Interlude - The Nameless

The goblin blinked into existence in the damp, dimly lit dungeon.

His first breath was shallow, his eyes darting around the shadowy confines.

Why was he here? What was this place?

He had no memory, only fragments—flashes of dying, over and over.

Around him, other creatures stirred. Goblins like himself and bigger Dog-headed monsters all surged in one direction.

Why were they running?

What were they chasing?

The goblin's instincts kicked in, urging him to follow. Why should he? What choice did he have?

His feet moved before his mind could catch up.

Every step felt heavy, like trudging through thick mud. Was this real? Or just another fragment of some twisted dream?

The walls of the dungeon seemed to close in on him, dark and unyielding.

Was this all he knew? Was this all there was?

He joined the throng of monsters, each one driven by some unseen force.

What were they seeking? Prey? Freedom?

He couldn't tell. The path was winding, the air thick with the stench of fear and adrenaline.

Why did he feel this pull, this relentless need to chase?

The goblin's heart pounded in his chest, an insistent drumbeat that drowned out his thoughts.

Why did it feel so familiar, this rush, this chase? Had he done this before?

His mind flickered with images of battles, pain, and endless darkness.

How many times had he been here? How many times had he died?

There was no answer, only the ceaseless drive to move forward.

The creatures ahead howled and snarled, a cacophony of sound that echoed in his skull.

What was at the end of this path? Victory? Death?

Did it make any difference?

The goblin didn't know. He didn't understand the urge, the instinct that pushed him onward.

Alas, he still followed, lost in the tide of monsters, driven by questions that had no answers, trapped in a cycle he couldn't break.

Was this...his fate?

∞

The goblin followed the surge of bodies, the ground trembling under the weight of the horde.

Ahead, in the dim light, he saw the target: a human.

Two legs, two arms, standing upright, armed wi...no...empty-handed...weird.

Memories surged—countless encounters, flashes of battle, the sensation of tearing flesh.

Was this all he was meant for?

The other monsters lunged, teeth bared, claws outstretched.

The human fought back, but it looked like a futile struggle against the wave of snarling beasts.

The goblin paused, something holding him back.

Why did this feel different? What was this sensation that kept him from joining the fray?

He watched, feeling a strange detachment. He saw the human's muscles straining in a desperate fight for survival.

The goblin knew this scene well, and he remembered seeing it..many, many times.

Yet now, the thought of diving into the chaos, of feeling blood on his hands, felt... distant.

Why?

He remembered the thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of a kill.

But now, standing on the edge of the melee, those feelings seemed like echoes from another life.

Was he changing? Or was this just a cruel trick of his fragmented mind?

The goblin's instincts still whispered to him, urging him to join the attack, to be part of the horde.

But he remained still, a spectator to the violence.

Did it matter if he killed or not? The human's fate was sealed, the horde relentless.

He felt no pity, no desire to save the human.

Why would he? They were enemies, trapped in this endless cycle of death.

But as he stood there, watching the inevitable unfold, he realized that, for once, he could choose not to participate.

The human's roars echoed in the dungeon, a sound he had heard many times

The goblin felt that his urge to kill had finally faded, washed away by his newfound rationality.

What did it mean? Was he becoming something else, something more than a mindless beast?

The questions swirled in his mind, unanswered, as he prepared to walk away from the chaos.

For now, it was enough to know that he had chosen to be different, if only for a moment.

Alas, just as he was about to turn away, he saw something unexpected. The human, surrounded by the monstrous horde, simply...refused to die.

The goblin watched in disbelief as the human's lifeblood poured from countless wounds, yet he still fought.

How could this be? Was he seeing it right?

The monsters leaped on the human, snarling and biting, trying to tear his throat and gouge his eyes.

But the human...laughed.

The goblin saw the monsters tear chunks of flesh from the human, yet he bit back, savagely ripping into his attackers with teeth and hands.

The horde was relentless, a torrent of claws and fangs.

But so was the human, fighting with a grin in the face of what the goblin believed to be certain death.

What was this? Why didn't the human fall?

What gave him such strength, such will?

So much conviction, so much desire, so much meaning...

The goblin had seen many fights over its many lives, and he remembered countless humans fighting to the death with those birthed by the dungeon but...he had never seen anything like this...

What drove this human to fight so hard?

Why did he keep clawing against death with such fury?

The goblin, who had only ever known to obey his instincts, his hunger, his primal will to kill, felt a strange, unsettling confusion.

This felt impossible.

He should run.

He knew he should flee from this monstrous human, and yet his eyes remained fixed on the battle.

Why couldn't he look away? What was this feeling, this pull to understand?

The goblin's world had always been simple—hunt, kill, die, repeat.

Yet now, watching the human's defiant struggle, he felt a stirring of something new.

Curiosity? Admiration? Fear?

He didn't know. But as the battle raged on, the goblin realized he couldn't turn away.

What was this force within the human, this unyielding drive? Why did he fight with such passion, even in the face of certain death? The goblin's mind churned with questions, his instincts clashing with this newfound sense of wonder.

He stood there, transfixed, as the impossible played out before him. And for the first time, the goblin began to question the nature of his own existence, the purpose of his endless cycle of violence.

So he watched, even as the number of monsters dwindled, his awe only growing as the man refused to fall.

Each swing of the human's fists, each savage bite, and each laugh, only deepened the goblin's fascination.

What kind of creature was this, who fought with such relentless ferocity?

He was so transfixed that he didn't even see a smaller human figure peeking at the fight from a distant set of stairs...

.

The rationality he felt ever since having been rebirthed from the dungeon only seemed to return only as the monstrous man was on the cusp of killing the last monster.

The goblin's awe and wonder turned to fear in an instant.

Memories of his past lives screamed at him, warning that he would become the man's next target once the horde dissipated completely. What chance did he stand against such a force?

So the goblin did something he had never done before

Something he had only remembered from the humans he had hunted and killed in his past lives.

He sought a hiding place, because, for some reason, at some point, he had begun to feel the will to survive.

Where did this urge come from? Why now?

He watched over the battlefield of corpses, seeking a bigger one to hide underneath. His eyes scanned the fallen, finding a particularly large dog monster, its beefy body sprawled lifeless on the ground.

He scurried over, heart pounding, and squeezed himself beneath the monster's bulk, hoping to escape notice.

Would this work? Would he be found?

The goblin's mind raced with questions as he lay hidden, the weight pressing down on him.

He had never felt fear like this before, never felt the need to hide, to survive. What was happening to him?

Even from his hiding place, he continued to watch the human.

The battlefield was littered with bodies, the last monster falling with a final, desperate howl. The human stood amidst the carnage, breathing heavily, eyes scanning for any remaining threats.

The goblin held his breath, praying to the Dungeon who gave him life that he would not be seen.

His survival depended on it. He had no choice but to wait, to see if the human would move on, or if this strange new will to live would be crushed before it had even begun.

∞

∞

∞

He thought his life was over when he felt the corpse hiding him be thrown away.

"Well well well...what do we have here?"

The human's voice, soft yet menacing, was the most horrible sound to the goblin.

The nameless goblin watched the human looming over him like death itself.

Was this the end?

Why did he feel so fearful?

Hadn't he died so many times before? What was different now?

Why did he feel like this time...he wouldn't get another chance?

The goblin cursed himself for being weak, for not running when he had the chance.

Was this all there is to life?

Fear and death, over and over again?

He kept his eyes wide open, waiting for his end, glancing at the human's savage grin in what he hoped looked like defiance.

But death...refused to come.

The human looked down at him, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. The goblin's heart pounded in his chest, each second stretching into an eternity.

Why wasn't the human killing him? What was he waiting for?

The goblin didn't know what to say. He simply stared, his wide eyes locked onto the human's.

The thought of running didn't even enter his mind.

He stood frozen in fear as the human made a strange exhale from his nostrils, a sound the goblin couldn't name.

Then, the human turned around, ignoring him and beginning his...feast?

He watched in silence as the human began to devour the bodies of the monsters he had slain.

The sight filled him with a sense of wrongness as if knowing that what the human was doing should not be possible.

Was this truly a human, or something else entirely?

As he watched, the goblin felt a strange urge to attack, to stop this grotesque display.

But he wasn't a mere beast to be ruled by his instincts.

Not anymore.

Something had changed within him, something that gave him pause. He remained still, his mind a whirl of conflicting emotions.

The human tore into the flesh with savage efficiency, blood and gore staining his hands and face.

The goblin's stomach churned, a mix of fear and revulsion washing over him from time to time.

What kind of creature could eat so much? What drove him to such acts?

The goblin stayed rooted to the spot, watching in horrified fascination.

The human's actions were monstrous, yet there was a method to the madness.

 Alas, the goblin's mind struggled to make any sense of it.

As the human finished his grisly meal, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned his gaze back to the goblin.

For a moment, their eyes locked again, and the goblin felt a shiver run down his spine.

What did the human see in him? Why did he spare him?

The human didn't walk away as he had begun to expect, though.

Instead, he turned toward the goblin and spoke in the same manner he had earlier.

A weird gurgle emerged from the human's throat, a sound deeply familiar to the goblin...it was his own language, the one that came to him instinctually over his many lives as a mindless monster.

"Follow" the human commanded.

The goblin found himself obeying, moving alongside the human toward the unknown.

Why was he following this human instead of running as far as possible from the clearly dangerous man?

He didn't understand, but something compelled him to obey.

Many questions swirled through the goblin's mind as he walked. How could the human communicate with him?

He could never remember being able to understand the humans, even though he remembered the many growls they used to communicate with each other when hunting him and his kin.

Why had he been asked to follow?

A small part of him still urged him to run away, yet he silenced it yet again. Why? He didn't know.

He might have been able to run when the human was busy eating monster corpses earlier, but he did not.

The fear that had plagued his mind for the past hours was once more making way for the awe he felt before.

What was it about this human that held him in thrall?

What did the human have that he...lacked?

As they walked deeper into the dungeon, the goblin kept silent, afraid to disturb the human who had begun shivering and bleeding from his eyes at some point.

What was happening to this human? Why did he continue to move, to fight, despite the obvious pain?

The goblin glanced at the weird creature, searching for answers.

The human's steps were steady despite the blood that trickled down his face, despite the tremors that wracked his body.

What drove him? What kept him moving forward when any other creature would have fallen?

The dungeon around them grew darker, the air thicker.

The goblin's instincts told him to be wary, to stay alert.

Yet, he felt a strange sense of calm in the human's presence.

Was it madness to feel this way? Perhaps. But he couldn't help it.

Just like he couldn't help it as his growls echoed through the cave when the human finally stopped his march.

"Why?" the goblin asked, surprising himself with the steadyness of his own voice. "Why do you fight?"

The human's eyes, still bleeding, bore into his, and for the first time since he saw this monster in human skin...he wasn't afraid.

What lay ahead, he didn't know. But for the first time, the nameless goblin felt a strange sense of hope, a belief that maybe, just maybe, there was more to his existence than he had ever imagined.