Hidden beyond the beaten paths lies the Slime Meadow—a lush, deceptively beautiful expanse of tall grass, wildflowers, and still ponds. But beneath its surface lurk the slimes: amorphous, semi-sentient predators that live to feed and breed.

They care nothing for gender, size, or species. To them, every warm body is simply a vessel—something to be engulfed, invaded, and milked of its vitality. Their techniques are endless: drowning, suction, penetration, grinding, and finally flooding their prey with sticky residue that marks them as claimed. Some slimes feed quickly, others keep victims inside their gelatinous bodies for hours or even days before puking them out, drained and leaking with slime essence.