CHAPTER 89: AND INTO THE SLIME CAVERN THEY GO!

Stareeeee.

Chestelle and Lickthorn locked onto Finn like predators spotting fresh meat. Especially Chestelle—her eyes were wide, unblinking, and laser-focused straight into his soul.

Finn gulped. He already knew where this was headed.

He stomped his foot down with resolve. "I’m not interested in your slime snacks."

"You sure?" Chestelle asked, already skewering more slime onto her nails like some grotesque appetizer tray.

"I am very sure." Finn’s face was deadpan. Stoic. Determined.

But then...

GGGGRRRRRRWWWWLLL.

His stomach growled again—louder this time. Betrayal. Complete and utter betrayal.

Finn winced. His dignity hung by a thread.

He looked at the slime.

Then at the pain in his gut.

Then back at the slime.

He didn’t want to eat it. Every part of his soul screamed no. But the other parts—the pathetic human survival parts—were slowly breaking down his resistance.

Chestelle smiled warmly. "Your stomach is yearning... for the slime delicacy."

"Just... give it to me," Finn muttered, defeated.

Chestelle extended her hand like she was bestowing a sacred relic. Three gooey chunks of slime sat stabbed on her nails, jiggling ominously.

Finn stared at them with the expression of a man about to sign a pact with a devil.

He leaned in... opened his mouth... and bit down.

Softly.

Gently.

It was like biting into jelly. A weirdly lime-flavored jelly. Sweet, juicy—and unsettlingly fresh. Too fresh. Knowing where this slime had come from... what it had touched... what it had absorbed... made chewing it feel like a sin.

But it wasn’t... bad.

In fact, Finn could kind of imagine it mixed with something else. Like... tossed in a salad. Or deep-fried. Slime could actually be a real culinary ingredient if society was insane enough to regulate it.

And in this world? That felt likely.

He swallowed. Slowly. Painfully.

And the moment he did, he turned—to find Majestria staring at him with raw disgust. Like he’d just confessed to kissing a corpse for a sandwich.

"What?" Finn said, his pride already gone. "I had to eat something. Don’t you eat too?"

Majestria crossed her arms with divine judgment. "I do not eat... that. That sludge is beneath me."

"But... you were eating grapes when we first met."

"THOSE GRAPES WERE SACRED AND I STILL HAVEN’T FORGIVEN YOU FOR TAKING ME FROM THEM!"

"...but you ate food. Isn’t that below you?"

She paused. Narrowed her eyes. The gears visibly jammed in her goddess brain.

Then she scowled. "Do not question my divine statements!"

And then—

GGRRRRRGHHHHLL.

Majestria’s stomach growled.

Everyone froze. Slowly, mechanically, their heads turned to her with unblinking, deadpan expressions.

Majestria blinked, glanced down at her own belly like it had just betrayed her in court, then looked back up with haughty defiance.

"It’s nothing," she said, waving a hand. "I’m not hungry. My stomach is just... being weird."

Stareeeee.

Chestelle, Lickthorn, and Finn didn’t move. Their eyes burned into her like the judgment of ancient gods.

Majestria backed up a step. Then another. "Why are you all staring at me like that?!"

They looked at one another.

Nodded in eerie synchronization.

Finn’s eyes narrowed. Lickthorn cracked her knuckles. Chestelle casually licked slime off her finger.

"...What are you doing?" Majestria asked, voice now teetering on panic. "Hey! Don’t you da—"

Too late.

Lickthorn lunged like a beast and tackled Majestria to the ground.

"NOOOO! GET OFF OF ME—WAIT—WAIT—WHAT IS THA—ACK—BLRRGHH!"

They shoved the slime into her mouth with zero mercy. Fists full of gooey fragments squished past her lips as she flailed and screamed in divine protest.

"STOP! I’M A GODDESS! THIS IS—GHLRK—THIS IS DEGRADING—MMFFFF!!"

But the trio showed no mercy.

By the time it was over, Majestria was on her knees, trembling, mascara probably running even though she wasn’t wearing any. She wiped tears from her face as if she’d just lived through the finale of a tragic opera.

"This is... this is blasphemy," she sniffled. "A divine being... reduced to slime ingestion. What’s next? Public transit?"

Meanwhile, Finn tapped his foot impatiently. "Alright, enough suffering and stupid nonsense. We’ve wasted too much time."

He glanced toward the cave.

And just then—like a delayed slap from reality—he remembered something important. The other people. The ones Chestelle mentioned. The ones already inside.

His eyes widened.

"Oh. Crap."

And with that, Finn jumped into action.

Gathering the girls, Finn led the way toward the cave.

Majestria trailed behind, a tired, torn-dress-wearing, yet somehow still breathtakingly beautiful narcissistic goddess. Her impossibly well-maintained hair shimmered with every step, and her two radiant eyes burned with a divine glow — like the arrogant twin suns of some celestial empire.

Lickthorn practically bounced with excitement, her short mint-green hair catching the sunlight, emerald eyes with those strange slit pupils dilating hungrily. She was licking her lips already, clearly plotting something that did not bode well for Finn.

Then there was Chestelle. Her chestnut-brown and deep mahogany hair fell perfectly, highlighted by the sun and giving off a subtle reptilian sheen, her scales glinting like a basking lizard. Her sharp almond eyes tracked Finn’s every move with unsettling intensity, as if she was studying the behavior of some rare god.

Three hot girls — emphasis on hot — but all equally, spectacularly, catastrophically mentally unstable. And absolutely lacking anything close to normal social awareness.

And then there was Finn: short, messy brown hair, dark eye bags under tired brown eyes, rocking his ever-cool white wizard hat. Beaten down, exhausted, probably one ill-timed sneeze away from a mental breakdown thanks to this world’s endless nonsense.

He desperately needed a vacation.

Still, together they formed the so-called "Majestic Wiggles" — a party so dysfunctional it was basically a cosmic joke — and they marched onward into the yawning mouth of the slime cavern.

Unprepared, yet somehow kind of prepared, for the twisted, nightmarish adventure awaiting them.

Awaiting them.

...Mostly awaiting Finn.

"If I see a slime with abs," Lickthorn whispered darkly, "I’m mating with it."

Finn stopped mid-step.

"Please don’t."

"No promises," Lickthorn whispered, licking her lips again.

Finn sighed, already hoping something would just happen and kill him immediately. Take him out of this miserable situation.

And now entering the cavern...