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Symbiosis

By Felsune

Adventuring is a dangerous job at the best of times, as it is lucrative, it never runs out of fodder for the grinder. Everyone's willing to give up their old life of toiling for bits and pieces, if it means a quick bit of money. And not just a little bit of money, no gold enough to buy empires if you survive long enough. But really, that's the hard part. Surviving long enough. All this ran through Iksa's head as she looked at her looming death. A mere level one adventurer, she was not supposed to see this, not for so many levels.

A giant slime was consuming her party, taking them bit by bit, as it surrounded them. Most Adventurers died when they got over ambitious, raiding locations to advanced for themselves. Or used as bait by other higher level adventurers. But on a rare occasion, like this time, a rare event occurred and it was just shitty luck. A cheap, easy, low level dungeon to get easy magical items. Not very powerful items, but magic none the less. There was a huge market for them, as they could be easily stripped of magic essence to power greater creations.

And the pay for this was good enough that even in a large party, you could make a profit. But on a rare occasion, a greater monster would be spawned. Formed by the defenses of the place, from the number of dead slimes before, it was known as the Party Killer. A level five slime, with the power to consume magical artifacts to increase its power level. And honestly, it would have been fine, they had a party of ten, with a good balance of classes. But there had been one unfortunate mistake made. The first to die hadn't been a party member. It had been the mule, carrying their store of loot, including all the magical items they had collected. Ten magical items, ten power levels that had given the monster a swell in power. And now, it tore through their ranks. Sizzling through armor, chewing through magical barriers, and destroying weapons stabbed into it.

Able to mutate forms by feeding on weapons, it sliced into flesh and dissolved through skin and blood. The sound of the dying overwhelming. Screams of pain, terror, and fear flooding the stone chambers, echoing endlessly as the cries of pain entered lulls then grew again, dying out one by one. She was the only one who had not tried to fight, knowing when a foe was too strong. She was a mere brawler after all, just a fighter who relied on the power of her gauntleted fists and armor to protect her. But what use was a metal fist against something that could eat through metal, and flesh with little concern. Not to mention blunt damage did almost nothing!

No, she had looked for an exit as soon as she knew what they were up against, only to find out that escape was impossible. The door was locked and made of stone. And no matter how hard she hit it, nor how much it dented her gauntlets, tore her flesh as her knuckles split. It did not budge an inch nor crack. Sobbing breaths tore from her mouth as she heard, or rather felt, the lack of sound behind her. No screams, no crying aside from her own, only a quiet bubbling and dripping noise. Slowly, fearfully, she turned her head around, looking at the scene behind her.

There was no blood, no bones, no armor, no sign of a battle, or her friends. Only a giant oozing slime, its original purple color stained crimson by the vast amount of blood it had consumed. Her knees felt weak, giving out from under her as she slid to the floor. Most adventurers never made it to level five. Most died for their greed or hubris. But she had been so careful, she had only taken easy jobs, only traveled with the strongest groups of newbies. And now, she was going to die, without ever seeing her sister again. Without telling her she was sorry...without getting the gold she needed to feed, house, and care for her sister.

She felt no shame as tears fell from her eyes, cries of despair wracking her body. She felt only that all consuming despair as she looked at the face of death. She closed her eyes and bowed her head to the ground, whimpering out the only thing she could think of. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." She couldn't stop the tears or the agonizing words that crawled from her lips. As if those words would somehow reach her sister, somehow comfort her sister in their final moments.

But slowly, her throat grew ragged, and the seconds ticked to minutes, and her tears dried up. Her voice gave out, and she finally looked up. The slime, the monster, the Party Wiper, it had not consumed her nor attacked her. In fact, it was frozen, arched over her. As if it were about to attack, but had stopped. And slowly, so agonizingly slowly, it began to change. Its crimson face twisting to become her own. And it spoke, in a voice that bubbled like a choked stream.

"I accept. Your apology."

Blood drained from her face, and hope flickered in her heart. Guttering and sputtering like a candle near water. But she didn't know what else to say. Even as it spoke again.

"I do...not want...to die." The head turned, looking at her as slippery slime dripped from the creature's mimicry of her head.

"You do...not want...to die. So we...will make...a deal."

Confusion and fear flickered through her, but she knew, without a doubt, she'd pay any price to escape this place. To escape the hell of the dungeon, and see her sister one last time. But nothing prepared her for what it asked next.

"You will...save me...from this...place. I will...escape through...you."

And with that, it surged forward again, slamming into her and pinning her against the wall. Driving her back hard enough she lost sight. Her body covered in a frigid, slippery cold, and she began to choke. As if she had fallen into a pit of water, and she knew without a doubt she was being covered by the slime now. And her insides burned! Burning agony spread through her veins before blackness consumed her mind.

When she woke again, it was to the sound of running feet, the ring of metal on stone echoing through the hall. Shouts, cries of surprise, and then something lifted her up. Well, just her head really, and water splashed across her. She gasped, sputtering, coughing, and gagging. Rolling over to vomit up something she had no words for. Whatever it was, it was bloody, and thick. Something patted her back, helping her to get it all out, before something was rubbed across her eyes. She could finally open them, and what she saw was...something thick and viscous and red...like...what she had 'seen' earlier. How had she known that was what it looked like?

Looking up, she saw the men, trembling as they looked at what had become of the room. Traces of slime and blood were everywhere, as if they had exploded out. A man waved a hand in front of her face, and she realized someone was talking. An orc, greenish grey skin, large thick tusks, and wearing platemail with a single serrated sword in one hand.

"Where are the others? Where is your party? Where is the Party Wiper?!"

She looked around, and then gagged, dry heaving as she remembered what had happened, and that was enough. Tears couldn't fall, but it was enough for the Orc. He snarled and spit, knowing they were dead. And thirty minutes later, when she was wrapped in a blanket, and the rest of the party returned, the questions started.

"Boss, it isn't here. We can't find any sign of it aside from...what is in this room."

She looked up, haunted eyes staring at the men in front of her, not really seeing them. At least, not until the Orc held out a hand.

"Let me see your sheet...."

Everyone went still, it was considered bad form to look at another's sheet, yet...she couldn't bring herself to do anything other than nod. Opening her palm, she focused on summoning the form that labeled her as an adventurer through an invisible mark on her palm. A dull black mark oozed to the surface of her skin, and formed into a dull yellowish paper with writing on it. The Orc carefully took the paper, and read over it, only to let out a gasp. The others crowded around, and a hushed muttering eminated from them. And it went on so long she finally couldn't take it.

In a rasping cough, she asked, "What is it? What does my sheet say?!"

Numbly, the Orc handed her back her sheet, and she looked it over. On it, under her class, where it had said 'Brawler' before, it now read, in purple ink, 'Symbiote Brawler'. And where her level had been '1' before, it now read '6 (1/5)'. As if she had multi classed. Numbly she let the paper fall from her fingers, not watching as it disintegrated back into nothingness. And the Orc spoke again.

"Congradulations, you are the only survivor of your party, and you just made it to the big leagues."