I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

The reddish glow pulsed again, spreading tendrils of light along Mara's palm, curling outward like living veins. Both Cassandra and Mara stared in stunned silence, the only sound the faint hum of the slime itself.

Mara was the first to break the silence, her voice trembling. "What... is that?"

"Mara... I think—I think it's slime." Cassandra replied, her voice trembling.

"Slime... How?"

Mara turned her hand slightly, watching as the substance shifted with her movements, forming into a small, quivering sphere. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Cassandra's heart skipped a beat. The memory hit her like a thunderclap. She'd seen this before, and only from one person.

"Red slime," Cassandra whispered, her tone urgent. "Zafron." Her eyes locked onto Mara's, searching for some confirmation. "You know this, don't you? You remember Zafron's powers. I have green but he has red!"

Mara blinked, confused for a moment before she remembered seeing the slime around his hands before she was stabbed. "Yeah... Yeah.. but why is..." She stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning in her expression. "No, no, Cassandra, I don't have powers. I've never had anything like this! Since I woke up, I've felt strange, yes, but... nothing like this."

Cassandra's brow furrowed as she began circling Mara, her eyes narrowing in thought. 'What is this? Why is it happening now? Is there a connection between this and Zafron, or is this something else entirely? Could it be... a signal?' Her thoughts raced, leaping from question to question as she tried to make sense of it.

Mara followed Cassandra's movements nervously, her palm still raised. "What are you doing? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Cassandra didn't answer immediately. Then, she noticed it—the slime wasn't just glowing; it was pointing. The sphere's pulsing light stretched out, elongating faintly in one direction. Cassandra froze mid-step, her breath catching. "Mara," she said carefully, her voice low. "It's... pointing."

Mara's eyes darted to her hand. She turned slightly, and the slime shifted, its tendrils straining toward the same direction like a compass. "What does that mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cassandra's thoughts quickened. 'Could it be leading to Zafron?' She shook her head. "It might be a locator," she said aloud, "but those typically only work at close range. And we're too far—Zafron must be much farther down, maybe in the city below." Her gaze shifted to the structures visible in the distance—ramshackle buildings and dimly glowing signs that marked the sprawling settlement.

Mara's face lit up with sudden excitement. "Then it's him! It has to be! He's calling us. We have to go."

Cassandra hesitated, her instincts warning her against blind faith. She studied Mara, who looked more eager than ever, her hope written plainly across her face. Despite herself, Cassandra felt a flicker of doubt. But there was no denying the direction of the slime. It wasn't random. She knew how wild abilities varies. For one, the slime was the reason Mara was alive in the first place...she thought?

She had skipped explaining that part to her because she understood very little of it. All she knew was that not long after dropping Mara at the morgue where it was customary to drop off the dead for a period of purification into the afterlife, she had gotten a call one day that something strange had happened. Mara had it the worst. Having to be looked at in a strange way everytime someone recognized her hence why she was far from the happy, excited girl always to the now timid one.

"All right," Cassandra said finally. "Let's follow it. But we have to be cautious. We have no idea what this place truly holds."

Mara nodded quickly, already moving forward with her palm outstretched. She tested it as they walked, tilting her hand to one side and watching the slime shift in response. "It's working," she murmured, more to herself than to Cassandra. "We're on the right path."

Cassandra trailed close behind, her eyes scanning their surroundings. The wasteland grew busier as they approached the city's edge, the air filled with shouts and bartering calls. Makeshift stalls lined the pathways, and scavengers hawked their wares—crystals, broken machinery, purified water, all displayed like treasures.

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"Crystals for air! Best purifier in the wasteland!" one vendor shouted as they passed. Another, more desperate, pushed toward them with a crude device. "Water filters! Guaranteed clean water. 25% efficient! Try it, ladies, you won't regret—"

They brushed past him, but Cassandra caught the way his voice faltered mid-pitch when he spotted the slime on Mara's hand.

His gaze lingered, his expression darkening before he quickly turned away. Mara barely noticed, her focus entirely on the slime, but Cassandra didn't miss it.

And he wasn't the only one. As they moved deeper into the bustling market, more eyes turned toward them—furtive glances that lingered just a second too long. Whispers followed in their wake.

"Isn't that... a red slime?"

"Spot on, identical to Slime Boy. Who is she? Maybe it's his sister. Maybe it's —"

"Shut it. Don't draw attention."

Cassandra's unease grew with every step. She touched Mara's arm lightly. "Lower your hand," she urged in a low voice. "Don't let them see it."

Mara hesitated, glancing at Cassandra. "But the slime—"

"Just do it, I don't like the looks they are given us." Cassandra snapped, her voice sharp with tension.

Mara turned round and noticed it as well. She lowered her hand until it was almost at her side, the glow partially obscured. They picked up their pace, weaving through the crowd with purposeful strides.

The whispers faded as they left the market behind, entering a quieter section where goods were exchanged in haggling tones rather than shouted pitches.

"We need to get some new clothes to blend in."

Cassandra stopped abruptly at a stone slab that served as an improvised counter. She pulled a gem from her hidden stash and smashed it against the edge, breaking it into two jagged halves. She tucked one piece back into her pocket and held out the other, her expression calm but guarded.

A wiry man behind the slab looked up, his sharp eyes narrowing. "What d'ya want?" he asked, his voice gravelly.

"Two overalls with hoods," Cassandra replied evenly, placing the half-gem on the counter.

The man picked it up, his brow furrowing as he turned it over in his hands. His eyes widened slightly. "Where'd you find this?" he demanded, his tone shifting to suspicion.

"On the far end of the wasteland," Cassandra said smoothly. "Took days of digging through trash heaps to get to it."

The man's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, then his lips curved into a greedy grin. "This is good stuff. Real good stuff. If there's more where this came from, I'm closing shop right now." He tossed two worn overalls onto the counter, barely sparing them another glance before rushing off, muttering to himself about treasure.

Cassandra handed one overall to Mara, but neither of them put them on. They moved away quickly, not wanting to linger. Mara glanced back at the now-empty stall and shook her head. "Everyone here is insane," she muttered. "That guy looked like he was ready to dive into a trash pit just for a shard."

Cassandra snorted softly. "That's the wasteland. Everyone's desperate. And desperation makes people dangerous."

They continued walking, the slime still faintly glowing in Mara's hand. She kept it low, but Cassandra couldn't help but notice the flickers of eagerness on her face. "You really think it's Zafron?" she asked after a while, her tone skeptical.

Mara nodded without hesitation. "It has to be. Who else could it be? And why else would it point like this?"

Cassandra didn't answer. Her instincts still told her to be cautious. 'Hope makes people blind,' she thought. 'And blind people make mistakes.'

They turned a corner, the crowd thinning out as they entered a section lined with stalls trading in gems and other valuables.

Cassandra glanced around warily, her eyes catching on a figure in the distance. He was nondescript at first glance, dressed in patched wasteland gear like everyone else. But something about his movements—a little too deliberate, a little too close—set her on edge.

She turned away, pretending not to notice, but her mind was already racing. 'He's following us. How long has he been there? Why is he—'

"Cassandra?" Mara's voice broke into her thoughts. "You okay?"

Cassandra slowed her pace slightly, leaning close to Mara. "Don't look now," she murmured, "but someone's following us."

Mara stiffened instinctively, but Cassandra caught her arm. "I said don't look," she hissed.

Mara swallowed hard, her excitement from earlier replaced with nervous tension. "What do we do?"

Cassandra's jaw tightened. 'First, we figure out what he wants. Then, if we have to... we deal with him.'