The wind blows, carrying with it the warm scent of the summer air. It tugs playfully at the golden strands of grass that permeate the forest.

*plop*

Insects can be heard singing their songs, wings beating frantically in their flight. The river roars, rushing towards the mountains. These mountains are weighed on a scale of their own, as they seek to cleave the very heavens like the teeth of a great beast.

*plop*

This land, inhabited by beings capable of such wide scale destruction that the very soil trembles upon their passing

*plop*

And indeed, these creatures are no legends, for the land is scarred by the traces of their passing. Plains filled with white fire, that still burn despite the earth beneath having long since turned to ash and glass. Swathes of barren sand in which nothing but the most resilient of creatures can survive, feeding on the traces of death that escape through the unnatural cracks created by means long lost to the sentient creatures of this place.

*plop*

Yet though these gods walk the earth, they do not walk here in this idyllic glen. This place of tranquil beauty, untouched by the ravages of time, unmarred by the wars of giants and monstrosities. It is here, surrounded by the imposing mountains of rock, those white crested caps looking down upon the ground they protect. It is here where life has slipped through the cracks, here where the weakest of creatures may roam, unmolested by man, free to grow unchecked until...

*plop*

... Until the day comes that this creature, like so many other before it, may seize its true potential.

*plop*

A slime. A creature so weak, other species use them as training for their young. Amalgamating from the dense clouds of mana these poor creatures are forever denied their rightful opportunity.

*plop*

Killed immediately upon sight, eaten for the vast benefits such calm mana can bequeath predators, made into potions by the humanoid creatures of this land, how could such a creature possibly show its true worth?

*plop*

And so they are massacred. And yet in this special place, where the threads of fate have crossed and aligned, have knit themselves into a new legend, behold. A slime

*plop* *plop* *plop*

Of course this is no ordinary slime. Tucked away in this forgotten paradise, protected on all sides by behemoths of rock and stone, in this place one slime exists. Indeed, has existed for millenia.

... *squelch* *crunch*

And on this unassuming day, a day like any other, the mana has decided to gift her child for its perseverance.

*ding*

*required mana accumulated. Congratulations on achieving sentience*