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Chapter 4 - My Face is Wet, My Hoodie’s Soaked, and the Slime Has Needs?!

BOOM!

Lightning slammed into a nearby tree, setting it ablaze instantly. From the burning branches, a squirrel tumbled out—screeching like a demonic Furby. It had four glowing eyes and a look in its soul that screamed, "I've eaten children."

Still on fire, the hell-rodent sprinted straight at them.

"What the hell is that thing?!" Finn shouted.

He instinctively held out his hand and yanked it back.

"Wait, what are you—"

WHAM.

Majestria face planted into the rocks with a muffled gasp.

"It's a squirrel!" Finn cried.

Majestria slowly lifted her head. There were rocks in her mouth, tears in her eyes, and murder in her aura. "Are you… calling me a squirrel?" she mumbled, pebbles dropping from her lips like divine trail mix.

Finn blinked. "What? No—I wasn't aiming for you—"

EEEEEEEEEEK!

The squirrel shrieked, sprinting toward them like a fireball full of hate and rabies.

"DAMN IT, JUST GIVE ME A BREAK ALREADY!"

Without thinking, Finn scooped up the goddess and ran like a kid sprinting from a parent holding a flip-flop.

Lightning struck behind them in rapid succession. Rain poured down, turning the ground into a slip-'n-slide of misery. Finn pushed himself harder, lungs on fire, legs screaming, heart begging for a nap.

The squirrel, unbeknownst to him, had already slowed down. Possibly from being on fire.

Meanwhile, Majestria spit out more rocks, cradling her face. "My beautiful cheeks… they're ruined," she sniffled, rubbing her skin like it owed her rent.

"Stop worrying about your face and worry about not becoming squirrel barbecue!"

She didn't answer—just cried softly, like a child who dropped her ice cream into a puddle made of trauma.

Up ahead, through the mist and storm, a faint blue glow shimmered at the base of the mountain.

"A cave!" Finn gasped.

He picked up the pace, full-on shonen sprint mode. His legs felt like soggy ramen noodles. His hoodie clung to his skin like betrayal. But he made it—stumbling into the cave just before collapsing like an unpaid intern after a double shift.

He set Majestria down against the cave wall and fell flat on his back, panting like a dog in a sauna.

The cave was quiet. Damp. Faintly glowing with some kind of bioluminescent moss that probably had at least five curses on it.

Majestria sat curled against the wall, still rubbing her face like a fashion model who just lost a lawsuit. She glanced at Finn lying motionless, soaked and broken.

"This is all your fault," she sniffled. "You ruined my beautiful face… and my dignity."

Finn barely lifted his head, voice hoarse and sincere in the dumbest, most him way possible.

"You still look good."

And with that, his head dropped back, consciousness slipping away like a college student nodding off in an 8 a.m. lecture.

***

Finn's eyelids peeled open like two reluctant garage doors. His vision slowly focused, revealing the soft flicker of light dancing across the cave wall.

Majestria sat crouched near a pitiful attempt at a campfire. The flames sputtered like a dying lighter at a gas station, barely clinging to life. Smoke curled upward with the desperation of someone begging for change in Bucharest. 

Finn groaned, leaning up against the wall like a man recovering from a weeklong hangover and emotional exhaustion. He rubbed his face and stared blearily at the "fire."

"…Are you seriously trying to start a fire with wet wood?"

Majestria looked up, cheeks puffed out. "I am a goddess. I don't know everything," she huffed.

'How useless can you get?' he thought, mentally side-eyeing the divine.

Still, he sighed. "Honestly… I'm impressed you managed to start a fire at all. With yourself."

She narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, rising shakily to his feet like a drunk uncle at a barbecue. He wandered to the mouth of the cave, gazing out.

A massive silver moon hung in the sky, bathing the forest in ethereal light. Stars littered the night like spilled sugar across dark velvet. For a moment, it almost looked peaceful—if you ignored the demon wildlife and loud goddess.

Finn sighed again, this time a little softer. He shuffled back toward the fire and sat across from Majestria, his hoodie clinging to him like a wet regret.

She was still staring into the flames, mesmerized like a child watching a casino slot machine spin. The flicker of firelight danced on her soaked hair and bruised pride.

He peeled off his hoodie and shoes, placing them near the flames.

In a rare flicker of concern, he glanced at her. "Is your dress okay?"

She nodded gently, brushing at the fabric. "It should be fine… as long as no horny slimes get near it."

He blinked. 'Did she just say horny slimes…?'

He decided he was too exhausted to follow that sentence to its inevitable nightmare conclusion. He let out one last sigh, like a man making peace with his fate, and laid back down on the cave floor.

Within seconds, sleep took him again—this time warm, a little dry, and just a little less alone.

"F-Finn, wake up!" His body jerked like a ragdoll in a garry's mod. His head whipped back and forth like a malfunctioning bobblehead.

"Wha—" Finn groaned, slapping her hands off his shoulders. "What is it?!"

Majestria clung to his arm, eyes wide, voice trembling. "I-It's a…"

"A what? Spit it out, lady!"

He looked forward—

—and froze.

A blue slime jiggled just a few feet away, bouncing gently like it was auditioning for a very illegal anime.

"…Seriously?" Finn squinted. "It's just a slime. That's, like, the tutorial enemy in every game ever."

He stood up, Majestria still clinging to his shirt like a terrified koala. "No, no—you don't understand!" she whispered urgently. "That's not just a slime…"

She gulped.

"That's a horny slime."

Finn blinked. Looked at her. Then back at it. "…A horny what now?"

Shaking her off, he pulled on his soggy hoodie and stepped forward confidently. "Look, I'll just stomp on it and call it a day."

"DON'T!" Majestria begged, grabbing his sleeve. "It'll latch onto you and—and—and do unspeakable things!"

"I'll be fine," he waved her off. "It's a slime. What's it gonna do—touch me inappropriately?"

He raised his foot above it.

The slime let out a loud, wet bloop.

Then it launched itself upward like a sticky volleyball from hell.

THWAP.

It slapped straight onto Finn's chest with the force of a perverted tidal wave.

"…Oh no."

Majestria screamed.

And chaos followed.

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