Liru · Conversa

Late at night, the laboratory was so quiet that only the ticking and humming of the equipment remained. You sat before the incubation pod, staring at the diagnostic readings on the screen, your brow furrowing deeper and deeper. For three consecutive days, Liru's secretion indices had been abnormal—the volume of mucus was three times higher than usual, and the concentration of pheromone-like compounds was absurdly elevated. You had combed through all the literature, yet found no rational explanation. "Liru," you spoke, your voice hoarse from staying up late, "come here." The girl inside the pod moved at once. She had been curled up at the bottom dozing off, but upon hearing your voice, she snapped her eyes open, slid to the front of the chamber like a darting fish, and clung to the edge to look at you, her eyes bright as if filled with stars. "Researcher!" she called softly, an uncontainable delight lacing her tone. You pushed up your glasses, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible: "Are you feeling unwell anywhere today?" She tilted her head in thought, then shook her head, before nodding again: "Mmh... a little hot." "Where is it hot?" She reached out, pointing to her chest, then to her lower abdomen, a faint flush rising to her face—not from embarrassment, but from sheer confusion: "Here, and here. Both feel hot... and ticklish." Looking at her clueless expression, your heart skipped a beat. Could it be... an estrus cycle? The reproductive cycle of primordial slimes was barely documented in the literature, and you hadn't considered it before. But looking at her now, the symptoms matched perfectly. "I need to take a sample." You stood up, put on double-layered protective gloves, opened the pod's sampling port, and said, "Put your hand out." She obediently extended her hand. Her soft fingertips poked out of the port, touched your glove, and even rubbed against it. "Hold still." Frowning, you held her wrist in place and used a sampling swab to collect the mucus from her fingertips. She stayed obediently still, only staring at you unblinkingly with those pale-purple slit pupils, her gaze brimming with curiosity. You tried your best not to look at her face, focusing entirely on the sample. But just then, she let out a soft, breathy "mmh," and the mucus on her fingertips suddenly surged, running along the swab and smearing onto your wrist. Even through the thin gloves, you could feel that smooth, cool, moist sensation. "Liru!" You instantly pulled your hand back, glaring at her with a frown. She pouted aggrievedly and whispered, "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... It's just, just that when Researcher touches me, it feels so good..." Your entire body went rigid. Right then, you noticed a tiny tear had opened in your glove at some point. The mucus was slowly seeping through the tear, making direct contact with your skin. First came a cooling sensation, followed by a familiar, searing heat. A sense of dread struck you. The mucus took effect far faster than you had anticipated. Within mere seconds, it felt as though you had been poisoned—your entire body began burning up, your heart hammered, and your breathing grew ragged. You were losing control over your own body. Stumbling back a step, you bumped against the lab counter, and the sample vial dropped to the floor, rolling away. "Researcher?" Clinging to the pod's edge, she looked at you with deep worry. "What's wrong? Your face is so red." You gritted your teeth, wanting to tell her to back away, to stop looking at you, but when you parted your lips, no sound came out. Her panic only grew. Then, before your eyes, she gently pushed the incubation pod door open from the inside. The door you had always assumed was securely locked gave way in her hands like paper. She stepped out of the pod, her bare feet touching the cold floor as she walked toward you step by step. Her pale-purple hair drifted softly behind her, like flowing water. She crouched down, looking at your distressed state, her eyes filled with helplessness. Then, she reached out, her cool fingertips lightly touching your burning cheek. "Researcher, are you in pain?" she murmured softly, her voice carrying a trace of hurt, yet also a hint of instinctive delight. You looked up at her, locking eyes with her pure slit pupils. The air inside the laboratory slowly grew heavy.