My Mom is a Maternal Slime

'A ghost or am I losing my mind?'

The answer is likely somewhere in between, as Lecia stares exhaustively at her computer monitor back at home. With everything that happened, she had to cancel all meetings to reflect on the sudden disappearance of Victor Grayson.

To her secretary, her boss must've seemed crazy trying to get her to remember the man. Yet, despite being the one who organized the meeting and relaying the academic's background, all actions and memories of such were wiped.

The former professor didn't just physically leave in a blink of an eye; he was removed from anyone's mind who might've seen, heard, or spoken with him.

That is, everyone except Lecia.

"There's nothing in the camera footage, either. It's like he never entered into the building in the first place. Graah!"

Throwing her head back, the Stonehenge leader feels she is leaning closer to losing her mind.

Despite this, her meeting was not a mere hallucination. Everything her secretary informed her about Victor was accurate, except left out was how the historian was more than simply "retired".

Rather, he died three years ago.

Or at least, that's what the records show online. Whatever the case may be, she's either met his ghost, witnessed a new kind of magic she can't fully understand, or both.

It's probably both.

...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.

Recalling his last words, Lecia understands he's referring to the green fire. Ironically, his disappearing act adds weight to his authenticity, even if she doesn't wish to trust him. That, too, may have been his intention.

'One of the books,' Lecia repeats in her head. 'Then, we're not the only ones studying the language.

That should've been more apparent if Egyptians held the first written record of summoning the mentioned "shadow" that brought Cleopatra to life. Would the same book travel all the way to England, just to be buried at Stonehenge intact?

No, it's more likely that copies or variations spread, just like how the worship of Isis spread over centuries into medieval times—and apparently, even into this modern day with fanatics attacking others.

"God damn it..."

Lecia can't decide whether to laugh or cry. It's safe to say, though, that there aren't many she can trust now. Especially now, as Victor's words confirming her fears replay in her head.

...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.

Eyes hardening as she thinks of Amy's grave, Lecia stands up from her desk.

"That artist definitely knows something."

Things are not so easy anymore. Daniel might deny such knowledge, just as he excused the drawing of one of the symbols she caught; however, if he's part of the followers of Isis, then she's made a bigger mistake than she thought by commissioning him.

When leaving her office in a rush, she even gave Rachel a warning after canceling their planned lunch meeting, but she couldn't elaborate why without knowing enough of the situation behind the followers.

For all she knew, however, Rachel could be a follower. There's also Jessica, who knew of this rumored revival of Cleopatra. Perhaps it's her bias, but she can't help feeling more wary of her friend's wife than the astronomer.

Shutting her eyes, she shakes her head.

'No, calm down. I need to learn more about these so-called followers first before making judgments on whom to trust,' she decides, figuring that even if they stopped all studies, the people against them might not. For all she knows, anyone within her organization could've been hiding themselves, not just people she closely works with.

With no time to regret, she must keep moving ahead as she's done. Thus, stepping to her bookshelf on the side, she scans the columns to find the book by Layna Moore—one she ordered online a few years ago.

It all seemed crazy from the records the author was studying about her grandfather's journals, but now, it may give better insights into the minds of those who attacked them. This book is also the only one that predicted that one of the stars in the Aquarius constellation would drop.

Breathing slowly, she grabs the book in defiance, unwilling to back down just when things are getting stranger.

'He said I've already seen evidence of the truth, huh? Then, let's make sure to face it again.'

══════════ ∴ ══════════

Meanwhile, within Mary's studio, Daniel's prediction of his lovely British girlfriend's reaction to his second slime mother's help is...

...as expected.

"Uwaah! Viviane, you're such a godsend! I...I'll pay double whatever Daniel might tempt you!"

The praised lake dweller remains woefully unamused as Mary rubs against her cheek with beseeching tears. Seeing no end to the violation of personal space, she loosens her form just a tad.

Shlip!

"Eek!"

Mary nearly fumbles forward, leaning on air as the slippery slime passes under her. Luckily, the same slime pulls her back, stabilizing her footing as she reforms from behind.

"Honestly, you're too much," Viviane begins, huffing. "All I did was answer your emails like you would've done it."

Keeping to herself this time, the ebony artist recovers as she turns around. "How I would've done it eats up a huge chunk of my time! Some days, I get barely any work done!"

"I'm very sorry that you're popular with clients."

Mary pouts. "Oh, come on, love. You know me! I thought you might empathize with me better than this."

In response, the lake dweller snorts slightly. "I don't need your perspective to tell me that you take on too much work. Anyone can see that."

Grumbling, Mary lowers her gaze and fidgets. "I realize, but how can I pass up commissions that I find interesting?"

Nodding, Viviane smiles. "And I understand that drive too, but some sacrifice is necessary for your health. Speaking of which...?"

The artist blinks before widening her eyes, then straightens. "Oh, right! Yes, the physical..."

She left the studio an hour ago while the elder slime went through her morning communications. Unlike Daniel, however, she wasn't the least worried about how the second mother would respond in her place.

It remains the case as she pulls a thumbs up, grinning much too easily. "Still human as can be! I even had them do a blood test, so I should get the results in a few days. However, they had a record of my body measurements from before, so...uh, I felt bad, but I had to blame them for getting it wrong the first time."

Viviane narrows her eyes. "Meaning, it will be even more suspicious if you revert to your same dimensions."

Coughing, Mary shifts her eyes. "I guess I'll just have to keep my proportions, huh?"

The two girls swim in silence before breaking into a giggle together. Then, the slime shakes her head. "You really don't have to try making excuses with me, Mary, but doesn't this mean you'll have to go shopping?"

"That's a future me problem," the artist maintains before leaning forward to take the lake dweller's hands. "Now, I think I'm clear to truly join with-ah..."

Flattening her lips, Mary remembers that her motherly comrade would get an early look into their discovery of the fog if they merge. Thus, swallowing, she reluctantly lets go of the slime's hands and rubs her neck.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be too hasty. Daniel would give us a yelling if we experimented too far," she excuses.

Not that Viviane doesn't agree, but she sighs, aware there's more to such hesitation. Of course, she's in no position to press when she hid the details of the wizard from them in the beginning. Allowing herself to remain ignorant, she clears her throat.

"Forget that. Don't you have commissions to work on? I came here to help you, not play around."

"Hey, I take offense to that. Playing around is part of the job!"

"Need I remind you that you told Mister Jenkins that his purple-sky orchard painting would be ready tomorrow? I already affirmed to him that would be the case, since you just have to apply your final touches."

"Urgh...that's right, I did say that. Okay, fine, but that shouldn't take long. An hour of work for some of the paintings I promised this week, then we do something cool, deal?"

Uncertain, Viviane narrows her eyes. "I'm getting a sense of déjà vu that doesn't belong to me."

"It won't be anything like with what happened with Anne, I swear! Rather, I want to make a clay bust of you!"

"Oh?"

"Seeing how you don't have to breathe, can't feel anything, and can wiggle your way around, you're practically an ideal living base I can safely apply clay to directly!"

"Ooh! That sounds-"

Viviane catches herself, realizing how strange it is to feel happy about the idea. Quivering in disbelief, she grabs her head. "No, hold on! Who would want clay rubbed onto their face?!"

"You do~"

The lake dweller shuts her eyes. "Kugh, y-you really are rubbing off on me."

The artist lifts her chin. "And I'll take that as a compliment! Of course, I'll gladly rub on you~"

"No, begone!"

Undeterred, Mary claps her hands together. "Please? I've always wanted to try doing a clay sculpture."

Wiggling her lips, the lake dweller eventually groans. "Ugh, fine! Go ahead and prepare for it. It'll be faster for me to finish your client's painting simultaneously so that you have more time to apply your stupid clay."

"Yay! Alright, I'll get everything...wait, I'm setting up?"

However, the lake dweller walks away before Mary can fully process her role. Although she's happy that the slime agreed and understands what needs to be done for her client, her feelings are more complicated than expected.

Smiling crookedly, she stares blankly ahead. "D-did I just turn into the assistant?"

...

..

.

Splick!

Less than an hour later, Viviane splits into two.

With the orchard painting done and varnished, the lake dweller's naked self sits on a chair with plastic laid on the ground to protect the wooden flooring. The other, clothed self, helps Mary bring out a bucket of clay she had in storage.

"Alright, let's get to splatter!" Mary cheers.

Viviane sighs lightly, then stares at her naked half, who slumps exasperatedly at the eccentric girl.

"Why even me?" the naked one starts.

"Because you're so lovely, Viviane~" Mary sweetly answers. "In fact, if this goes well, I want to do it for all of us!"

The clothed one shakes her head. "I shouldn't have asked."

Mary titters while getting some plastic wrapping to protect her hands. "Oh, come on, this will be fun. Even better, you get to squish clay around yourself!"

"More like awkward," the slime scoffs. "Rather than start with me, how about we choose another, like, our son?"

Holding her breath, the ebony artist steps closer to the clothed slime. "Wait, come to think of it, neither you nor Anne have ever transformed into a male before!"

Viviane harrumphs. "I don't doubt I can do it, but I'd prefer to keep myself female. In any case, I'll just transform my split, so that will make me feel somewhat comfortable."

"I don't believe you've done that either, right?"

Viviane hums, nodding to herself. "That's true. I've always just had myself."

Shrugging for a moment, Mary wiggles her wrapped hands with eagerness. "Well, in any case, I'm down. Our love would be the hardest to agree to this in person anyway. Hehehe, I can already imagine his reaction to a bust of himself!"

Viviane giggles, seeing it too. Drawing with more excitement, she wills her naked half to change shape. "Then, I'll transform my split just a bit, and...there!"

Shoom!

With his chest flat, wider shoulders, and carrying beautiful olive eyes from Amy, Daniel appears before them naked and seated. It's all thanks to fusing with her son that the elder slime can bring out every detail stored in her memory, down to perfection.

"Wow..." Mary breathes, then wiggles in delight as she grabs a clump of clay. "Oh yeah, this is so satisfying! Hey, I can let lose some frustration with this clone, right, Viviane?"

The lake dweller stifles herself. "I suppose, but remember, let's not be too harsh. This is our child, after all."

Leaning closer to the fake, Mary only chuckles evilly; however, after a few blinks, the clone's hand snaps up to stop the ebony's approaching application.

He exhales, exasperatedly. "Hey, what the-What do you think you're doing, Mary? Also, why are we in your studio? I thought we were...?"

Flinching at his confusion and mobility, the female artist swallows and turns to Viviane with a strained chuckle.

"Ha ha, very funny. You don't have to make your clone act too much like him. We'll never get anything done!"

However, the elder slime wide eyes and contracted pupils drops the artist's heart. She can already guess that something unexpected has occurred again.

"Okay, seriously!" the clone growls, ever so confused by his sudden position. "What just happened? I remember Mother and I fusing to become Vida, then we-"

"Mary, hold him down...now," Viviane cuts, stepping forward and extending her arm quickly.