The office was quiet, lit only by the golden glow of a desk lamp. On the desk sat the apple core Mizue had collected from Kyuu. Mizue’s stare was almost enough to penetrate walls.
With a controlled motion, she gripped the core and snapped it cleanly in half.
Immediately, the broken edges pulsed with motion, the exposed inside was not flesh or fiber, but writhing pink slime. It squirmed softly, almost breathing, as if it had just been disturbed from slumber.
Mizue’s eyes narrowed.
She tapped one half thoughtfully against the desk’s edge, then without a word, casually flicked the other across the room. It bounced once near the waste bin and lay still.
The piece in her hand twitched. She gripped it tighter.
A few seconds passed.
Then, on the floor, the discarded half began to deform, melting into a puddle of thick pink slime. It hesitated for only a moment before flinging itself straight across the room. Mizue didn’t flinch as the blob slammed into her hand, rejoining the remaining half in a perfect reformation of the apple core.
“Slime-based reconstruction. Memory cohesion… Mana replication? This is far beyond mimicry…”
“Are you having fun?” Ibuki asked lazily, sprawled upside down in a chair nearby. Her legs were kicked over the top, and a bag of snacks sat precariously on her stomach.
Mizue didn’t answer the question. “Contact Lumin Academy. Tell them I’ll be there in six days. Ask them to prepare a private meeting with Via.”
Ibuki raised a brow. “Via, huh? What’s the occasion?”
“I want her to examine something personally. Discreetly,” Mizue said, still eyeing the apple core with scientific reverence. “I need someone who cares more about the research than the politics. Someone who knows how to keep their mouth shut.”
With a flick of her hand, Mizue created a box made from mana. After placing the core inside she snapped, turning the box black and opaque.
She slid the box into her carrying satchel and fastened the clasp.
“Oh—and tell Yura I’ll be out,” she added, already walking toward the door. “Keep taking care of Kyuu for me.”
Ibuki waved a chip vaguely in the air. “Got it. Have fun with the slime apple.”
The door clicked shut behind Mizue, leaving just the sound of Ibuki and her chips behind.
