Primordial Slime Novels & Stories

The Primordial clutches its own head as if something inside it is speaking. “You introduce… contradiction,” it murmurs. Its eyes, those terrible, infinite eyes—shift. And then they focus on me. On me. Recognition flares. “You,” it says slowly. “You are origin.” The ground beneath my feet vanishes. I fall and the Primordial reaches down toward me with a hand that is no longer entirely alien. Its fingers are reshaping. Becoming smaller. Becoming human. And just before they close around me, the world goes completely, violently white.

As a monk and a scholar of the ancient ways, Zoran was the pack’s primary connection to the history of their kind. Zoran felt the weight of their collective gaze and let out a heavy sigh. "For the creatures to possess primordial energy... it is a grave omen," he said with a grave voice . "Primordial energy is not something that can be manufactured or conjured from thin air. It is the very essence of an ancient wolf.. It is a life force."

I whispered, the name tasting like cold iron. From the black-emerald light of the Ziggurat, a hundred figures stepped out—not shifters, and not machines, but Primordial Predators of the Zero Cycle, their fur a thick, violet-black stardust, their eyes glowing with the carnal, prehistoric hunger of the ones who first broke the world. "Welcome to the End of the Food Chain, Darlene," the Leader of the First Pack growled, his voice a perfect mirror of Eryx’s own primal instincts. "It’s time to find out if the 'Queen' can survive the Wolves who made the King."

“They may be awakening something dormant—something ancestral.” “Like what?” Tora whispered. Dr. Mira met her gaze. “There were rumors… old records buried in dragon sanctums and Lycan lore. About a time before the species separated. Of beings that were not one or the other, but both—perfectly balanced. Some called them ‘Primals.’” Jax’s eyes widened. “Are you saying our baby is…?” “I’m saying,” Mira interrupted gently, “you might be carrying the first true Primal to be born in thousands of years.”

"We don't have a choice. If it reaches full emergence, there will be nowhere to run. It will consume everything. Every world. Every realm. Every soul." The Primordial laughed a sound that shook the foundations of the world, that cracked the mountains and split the seas. "You cannot stop me, little wolf. You cannot even slow me down. I have been waiting for this moment since before your ancestors drew breath. I have watched you struggle, watched you fight, watched you sacrifice. I have watched you bleed for your hope, and I have laughed at your suffering."

They surrounded the concentrated ore unconsciously. Pairs of eyes were fixed on the fist-sized blue essence at the core of the concentrated ore from the deep sea. Everyone began to swallow unconsciously. The Primordial Concentrated Ore! That was a Primordial Concentrated Ore! The word "Primordial" indicated the simplest and earliest essence power at the beginning of the world. It was the essence of the concentrated ore from the deep sea. Even in the Sea Clan, this kind of essence was very rare. Basically, there might not be a concentrated ore that contained a Primordial Concentrated Ore in an ore vein that had tens of millions of concentrated ores in it.

It’s a dark purple, it’s so enormous and poisonous upon breathing the smoke it releases. Samael laughed insanely, like there’s no tomorrow. Evil like him doesn’t just give up so easily and he’ll do everything to conquer the entire magic realm. Alice and the sisters frowned. It was the first time they saw a powerful devil slime and they couldn’t identify its weakness because its body is not just slimy but it also becomes a poisonous smoke when Demonise tries to slice it and it will grow back like nothing happened. This type of slime is so dangerous because the smoke could kill when inhaled.

It lasted not for more than a minute as heavy cries sounded like hot water bubbling, extravasated in their ears. Ryley, who had jumped past them and was struggling to free Reyne from the cage of the cocoon, stood affixed in his spot because an end number of disgusting, wiggly woggly unidentified creatures rushed through the threshold. They were all green. Jiggling like slime. Although they had a pair of hands, legs, eyes and even nose, that did not remain as is. None remained in a set position for more than a second, and they kept shaking like jelly. Another disgusting thing was the path of slime they left behind them on the floor, like a snail.

We’re on our feet, about to shuffle into normal seating positions when Miles glances at Shane. “We’ve gotta do something about Dreadborn before it strikes again.” Rakim swivels toward him, his dreadlocks bouncing faintly. “But how the hell do you stop something like that? Something we can barely even see.” “Fucker looks like it’s made out of smoke.” Shane stands with both palms pressed to his desk, his head bowed in thought for a long moment. When he finally lifts his gaze, there’s sheer resolve in his eyes. “The folklore is real,” he whispers. “Which means at some point, Primordials truly took on the form of humans.”

Every page I turned whispered of forgotten gods and blood-pacts lost to history. Then I saw it — the same spiral mark etched faintly in the margin of a brittle manuscript. Bobby noticed my pause. “Found something?” I nodded slowly. “It’s a mark of the Primals.” “The what now?” he asked bemused. “Before wolves and vampires split, before magic was bound to the moon — there were the Primals. Beings of pure essence. The first-born of the old world.” Bobby frowned. “Those are myths.” “So were vampires until you met one,” I said dryly.