Finn tugged, thrashed, tried to push forward—but his body finally betrayed him. Every muscle screamed mutiny. He had pushed past his limits, and now he was paying the price.
The creature was closing in fast, sludge flying with every step. Finn braced for the end—until suddenly…
He felt himself rising.
Not fast, not dramatic—more like a bunch of toddlers trying to pick up a couch.
Finn blinked down in confusion. A swarm of tiny slime figures had appeared, their little gooey bodies straining as they marched him away from the monster, inch by inch.
Finn didn't even resist. His body was toast, his mind fried. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Kidnap me. Put me in a jar. I don't care anymore," he mumbled internally.
Behind him, the monster slogged forward, splashing muck like an angry child in a bathtub. One massive step at a time, closing the gap.
And then Finn noticed. The little slimes weren't dragging him out. They were dragging him in.
Deeper into the giant slime mass.
