My Mom is a Maternal Slime

Perhaps it was naive of Lecia to think she could keep digging in secret for so long. Anyone would eventually notice a hole in the ground. From there, the person digging could be buried alive with little hope of escaping at the behest of their uncertain discoverer.

The Stonehenge leader already felt she'd gone too far since she realized the green fire was more. Without recourse, however, she had to keep digging a slope to get out, and in her haste, she probably was digging areas where she should've avoided.

An archaeologist doing excavation must survey their surroundings carefully. Where had she gone wrong?

Certainly, commissioning Daniel to celebrate such a magical moment was a lapse of judgment. As Mike warned, it may have also been too soon to reveal to the greater group the illusive movements of an unknown creature, although she still feels otherwise given the changes to the stars.

Regardless, there's little she can do now except push ahead as she walks through the hallways of the Sights Open office, trailing her secretary to meet with the unknown man who wished to discuss a certain Egyptian goddess. Specifically, he's interested in the company's technologies to scan potential ruins buried in Bigeh where the Egyptian Temple of Isis originally stood.

Given the relevancy and timing, there's clearly more to the arrival without prior notice.

"Here she is, Doctor Grayson. I appreciate your patience," the secretary announces as she opens the door to the meeting room for her boss.

Taking a small breath, Lecia follows through while forcing a smile.

"Welcome, Doctor Grayson," she greets, extending a hand.

Rising from his seat for a moment and lifting his lips, he takes in her hand shortly before settling back down.

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Bowden," he replies, his voice laced with a hint of rasp. "I apologize for taking your time on such short notice. Please, just call me Victor."

Victor Grayson.

Bearing streaks of grey, Lecia takes in the older man's slicked-back hazelnut hair and goatee that lines his rigid face. She hoped that his appearance might ring a bell, but so far, she still doesn't recall ever meeting such a person.

Her secretary sent over information on him: Victor is a former professor of history at Broughton International University, having moved and studied eight years within the branch in Cairo. Other than looking into mythologies and ancient Egyptian religion like others in his field, his work is surprisingly low-key.

Rather, it's suspicious.

After her secretary leaves them alone, Lecia straightens in her seat across, keeping up her smile.

"Can you tell me why there's such urgency? We've helped with many archeological projects around, but from what I've read, it seems you retired from academia. What could you possibly be involved in?"

Victor closes his eyes, chuckling. "In some ways, this old man can't seem to let go of the past. I'm sure you know the feeling."

The Stonehenge leader's smile falters as she narrows her eyes. It's pointless to continue formalities. "No. Who are you, really?"

Taking a sip of the bottled water provided, he hums sadly. "I agree the timing isn't ideal, Miss Bowden. It's certainly not my intention to grab your attention like this, either. It is true that I'm aware you had people in Egypt, outside your normal, looking into a very specific history that is unknown to most."

That confirms everything as Lecia clenches her hands, her heart racing. "So you're with the ones-"

"Not exactly," Victor corrects, raising his hand. "Please, relax. Like you, I also believe unknown corners of history needs to be explored. There shouldn't be any violence between groups wanting to seek out the truth."

"Yet, you're aware of them," Lecia maintains, her eyes unable to help but glare. Subsequently, she scoffs and crosses her arms. "I can easily guess that you found some enlightenment during your research days at University. Although I never dwelled on it too much, I should've been more aware there would be people who would also be looking into rumored elements. Everything is public, after all."

"Public, but not so accessible. In any case, the ones that attacked your members are from followers of Isis, who despise seekers of truth that do not completely devote themselves to their goddess."

Lecia had a feeling. In fact, she had read Layna Moore's analysis of her grandfather's journals a few years ago, which undoubtedly has blown up now. As such, the idea of modern-day believers in the Egyptian and pagan gods isn't so far-fetched.

"You say the 'ones', but aren't you also a follower?" she questions.

Victor stares in silence before the corners of his lips rise slightly. "Do you know what the problem is with followers?"

"..."

He continues, his gaze following the grains of the table. "Followers risk enforcing a narrow outlook on their lives and others the longer they devote themselves to someone...or something. Over time, they may even lose sight of who they were truly following, twisting their image to validate an aspect they wish others to see. Sadly, we constantly see this happening with various degrees."

He snorts, chuckling. "However, in this case, it doesn't help that such a goddess never held a consistent image of herself in the first place."

Lecia's brows furrow. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Shaking his head, Victor straightens his focus back to the Stonehenge leader. "To answer your question, I am a follower, but even now, I'm not sure what I'm following anymore. At the very least, I acknowledge that Isis existed in some form on this planet for many years."

Lecia's eyes widen. "Her...existence?"

Swallowing, she recalls Mike's findings regarding the last Egyptian throne. "Then, you're referring to Cleopatra's supposed revival?"

Victor hums. "What your group was seeking to confirm is the earliest written claim to an incarnation of Isis on Earth, but you mustn't think of it as a single revival. In reality, Cleopatra was simply a catalyst for one of the many forms that walked among us."

The Stonehenge leader's hands shake underneath the table, her heart rising with alarm as she thinks of Amy's missing body.

'...existing in some form...'

Realizing his words so far matched her underlying concern, it still seems insane, but...can it really be the case?

"How are you so sure?" she asks, her voice beginning to strain.

Victor lifts his chin a little, studying her features carefully. "Hard to really explain, but there's a saying: 'Seeing is believing'. It's a poor excuse, since I would doubt it even if I were to hear it from myself, even with my time. Still, Lecia, you have already seen evidence of this truth using one of the books."

Snapping her eyes wide, the Stonehenge leader slams her fist on the table as she rises to her feet. "Cut the bullshit! What do you kn-"

It's only a blink, but Lecia's heart drops, and her words are swallowed in such a fleeting moment of frustration. Just as fleeting, the man before her is suddenly gone now; there's not even a water bottle left behind.

As the former archaeologist grows increasingly pale from the seeming hallucinations she may have experienced, her secretary rushes in through the door.

"Miss! Are you okay? I heard shouting. Why are you alone in the meeting room?"

Lecia stiffens, her pupils contracting further. Without looking at her secretary, she continues staring at the empty chair that once seated Victor.

"...alone? I was...no, didn't you set up...?"

As her boss shakes, the secretary cocks her head. "M-miss?"

══════════ ∴ ══════════

Back at Daniel's apartment, Mary thins her lips to the side as she and Daniel are alone for a moment before her leave.

"So...when should we tell her?" she asks.

More specifically, the British artist is referring to the discovery within Anne's realm of the wailing source and caretaker they've yet to know the name of. Undoubtedly, Viviane is owed some explanation, even if it may bring up some trauma.

Daniel rubs his head before deciding. "Tonight, if it's not too late when you're done with work. Otherwise, you can let her know there's something else we skipped to be discussed as a group."

Mary hums. "That seems reasonable. Do you think she'll be able to handle it?"

"Possibly. While it may bring more questions, we can only hope it may bring her some peace too."

"Alright, here are some clothes!"

The motherly and slimy duo returns to the front door, with Anne holding a bag prepared for Mary.

Accepting it with guilt-ridden eyes, Mary sighs. "Oh, love, I'm really sorry to be borrowing some of your clothes."

"Hey, don't be sorry! If anything, I'm the one sorry here," the wavy-haired slime insists, taking the artist's hands in hers.

Mary still feels bad about it, but perks up a little. "Well, I have good news, at least. I managed to set up an appointment today! Hopefully, I'll get a better answer about whether there's anything wrong with me. If not, then..."

Letting her words draw, her pleading eyes say everything to her fellow fusion buddy.

Wiggling her lips, Anne sighs. "I guess after that, maybe I can try fixing you up."

The ebony beauty waves a hand. "Oh, I don't think I need fixing. Our dear son isn't honest, but he likes Mummy's ass."

"Oh, please, spare me," Daniel groans.

The three girls laugh before Viviane steps closer to Mary, her eyes twinkling. Prepared to leave with the female artist, she's already put on shoes and transformed into her less pale form.

"Mary, let's not forget you have me!" she chirps. "If you get a clean bill, I want to merge with you for the first time!"

Both artists flinch. Their thoughts immediately go to details of their excursion into her fog. It would be better to hold off any slimy connection before they're ready to share such memory.

Thus, glancing away, Mary chuckles lightly. "W-we'll see, but let's not rush it, okay? For now, I prefer your physical presence with me as my assistant."

Viviane gasps, then raises her arms. "Don't worry, I'll help you out so we have more time together!"

"Aw~"

Squealing, Mary hugs the lake dweller close, who titters and wraps back. This moment doesn't last long, with a clearing of the throat.

"Sorry to interrupt, but don't you have a client that's visiting in an hour?" Daniel reminds, grinning.

Mary flatly stares back with her cheek squished against Viviane.

"Ugh...so pushy," she grumbles with a pout. Reluctantly, she lets the lake dweller go and opens the door. As it squeaks, Daniel is reminded of something else.

"Oh, wait a sec!"

The two pause as their boyfriend and son rummages through his pocket. He then hands his counterpart a key to his apartment.

"I already have another copy in the drawer, so use this whenever," Daniel urges.

Breathing in silence, Mary holds herself for a moment before her eyes soften. If there's any bigger reminder that they're a couple again, this key is one of them.

"Thank you, love," she whispers, closing the key in her hand. With a tilt of her head back to Daniel, she steps forward and presses her lips against his.

Surprised, Daniel eagerly accepts her feelings in kind, holding her closely. After a few seconds of sweetness filling the air, they part with a shared smile until a cough wedges between them.

"Child, you mustn't forget about your Mother here!"

Harrumphing, Viviane steps forward as well, but this time, Daniel is more prepared to take her cool lips. As he takes her in for a few more seconds, he soon remembers that the door is open to potential onlookers.

Jerking away, he gasps. "Oh shit, um...let's be more careful, okay?"

The two girls giggle at his concern, but don't tease him further. Giving one last wave, the contrasting artist and assistant leave their fellow boyfriend and slime sister behind.

With his apartment becoming just a tad quieter, Daniel breathes out as he shuts the door, then thins his lips.

Maybe letting Mary have Viviane for the day was a mistake. At the same time, if the lake dweller can help his girlfriend with her workload, they can get to discussing magical matters sooner.

Amid his worries, Anne hugs her son from behind, rubbing her head against his shoulders. "Hu hu, yes! Mama is finally alone with you!"

'Scratch that. Will I be okay?' Daniel rethinks.

Regardless, he clears his throat. "Hey, Mom, let's not be creepy, okay?"

Gasping by such accusation, she huffs, pulling away. "Mama is happy, not creepy!"

"I fail to see the difference. Anyway, let me answer some emails-"

"Already done."

Daniel stiffens, then focuses her full attention on his unduly proud slime mother. "E-excuse me?"

"I forgot to tell you, but Mama went ahead and updated the status of the commissions on your behalf."

Considering Viviane offered similar assistance to Mary, it might not be a total surprise that Anne can handle the same for his clientele.

"N-no, but how would you know how I'd respond?"

Narrowing her eyes, Anne pouts by her son's doubt before clearing her throat. She lowers her voice a little.

"Hello, Mr. Johnson, your portrait is nearly complete and should be ready to varnish by the end of the day. Please let me know when you're ready to come by this week."

Her son gasps, his eyes widening. "Huh? Well... I mean, sure, that one is easy to respond to, but others-"

"Good morning, Craig," she begins with another response: "There's an issue with your provided reference photos regarding the lighting of your wife. So I can accurately use the right colors, would you kindly provide me with better photos? Preferably, it might be easier to just have your wife come in, so I can capture her complexion better."

At a loss, Daniel stares blankly at his slime mother. In response, she closes her eyes and sticks out her tongue silly.

"Hehe~ No problem, right?"

"Um...yeah, that's..."

Perfect.

Gulping, Daniel decides he'll certainly be reviewing his sent messages, but if it's anything like the examples she's thrown out, then she's read his mind.

No surprise, given she has a copy of him in the form of a lake—a normal-sized one, of course.

Anne leans closer, pressing her hands on his chest. "I know you're unlikely to take my word for it, so feel free to check your messages, but do put more faith in me. Mama knows best, after all~"

Case in point.

Sighing, the spoiled artist nods with a bitter smile. "Well, it seems the studio will run fine with you taking the lead. First, let's-"

"Breastfeeding time."

Humming, Daniel crosses his arms and nods. "That's right, you should breast...what?"

Catching himself too late, Anne giggles as she draws her blank-minded son away from the hallway and into the lounge before the workday can truly begin.