"Please, god...Please, Gandalf, do not let it be too late."
The prayer left my lips in a whisper, half sincere, half desperate.
In a blink, I appeared beside a moss-covered boulder deep in the forest. The air hit like a wall—thick, cold, and unnervingly still. Sothing about the forest had changed. It wasn’t just nightfall. It was sothing deeper. Wrong.
I crouched low, scanning the twisted treeline.
The forest was drenched in a haunting glow, lit by a moon far too large to be natural. It dominated the sky like a second sun—its pale light cutting through the canopy, casting elongated shadows that seed to shift even when I stood still.
Compared to Earth’s moon, this one felt... oppressive. Like a massive, unblinking eye watching everything below. I felt its weight in my bones.
A shiver ran down my spine, and I pulled my arms around my small, goblin-sized body. My instincts scread danger, but I ignored them. I had co here for one reason.
I had to find Zarah.
I took off running through the dense woods, ducking under low-hanging branches and hopping over gnarled roots. The forest floor was damp with dew and old leaves, muffling my footsteps. My heart pounded—not just from fear, but from frustration.
Why had Zarah co looking for ?
Sure, I understood her loyalty. Her system loyalty stat was maxed out at 100%, even if she often acted stubborn and proud. But this? Running off alone into nightmare-infested woods, risking her life?
It didn’t add up.
I exhaled sharply. Maybe I just didn’t understand goblins after all. I thought humans were hard to figure out, but these green-skinned weirdos had their own brand of crazy.
As I weaved between trees, regret began to gnaw at . Why hadn’t I placed a tracking sigil on her like I did with Narg? With that mark, I could’ve blinked straight to her location. Problem solved.
Instead, I was running around like an idiot.
ntal note: Sigil everyone. Clan mbers, gear, even spots around the camp.
I had an amazing power set. I just needed to start using it with so damn foresight.
Speaking of which... why the hell was I still running?
With an annoyed grunt, I activated Warp and blinked forward, cutting across several dozen ters in a flash of blue-green light.
***
anwhile...
Zarah darted between tree trunks like a shadow, a short recurve bow gripped tightly in her left hand. Her ears twitched at every sound. Her breathing was controlled, her eyes sharp and determined. The forest might have changed, but so had she.
Eli had changed her.
She moved quickly, but carefully. She knew these woods. And more importantly, she knew what ca out after dark.
No matter what... the new chief can’t die. That was her only thought.
She wasn’t just Flogga’s granddaughter. She was the daughter of the last goblin chief, before the hobgoblins wiped out their den.
She knew the laws.
The brutal, rciless ones.
If a goblin clan lost its leader and got found by another tribe? That was it.
The clan would be subjugated.
The n turned into disposable laborers or at shields. The won... her lip curled. She knew firsthand what happened to goblin females. Her own father had paraded captured won through the village like trophies. They were chained, broken, and passed around like tools.
She had watched the way her father’s warriors treated the prisoners—how they enjoyed it.
That’s why she was always cautious around Eli when he first showed up. She’d expected the worst. He was powerful, strange, and many signs pointed to "dangerous psycho."
But he wasn’t like the others.
He had spared Narg, even after defeating him in a leadership challenge.
He’d even sworn an oath not to harm him or a mber of the clan.
That had stunned her.
You didn’t swear to the one beneath you. You crushed them, proved your dominance, and moved on.
But Eli... he had restraint. Kindness.
She never expected it.
And because of it, her loyalty wasn’t just system-deep anymore.
It was real.
Then there was the fight against the trolls.
Eli could’ve fled. He could’ve used the weaker mbers of the clan as at shields, the way most goblins would. But he didn’t. He stood his ground and faced two forest trolls alone to buy them ti.
Trolls. Not just one—two.
Her respect for him had evolved into sothing fiercer, sothing more protective. She couldn’t let him die.
Not just for her clan’s sake, but for her own.
If Eli fell, the next leaders would be Narg or Zzok. Neither of them had the brains to lead a goat, let alone a clan. Their only strategy would be groveling to stronger tribes or throwing spears at anything that moved.
They were dood without him.
The sound of a distant roar made her freeze mid-step.
Her grip tightened on her bow.
The night was dangerous.
But she pressed forward despite the dread gnawing at her gut.
And then, just as she stepped into a clearing, the underbrush rustled to her right. She froze.
Then spun, nocking an arrow.
Her aim was steady.
Out from the trees lumbered sothing squat and pale. Its skin was a dull gray-green. Its eyes were small, filled with confused rage.
A young troll.
It stepped into view, growling low, yellow eyes fixed on her. Recognition flashed in its gaze. She didn’t know what it saw, but it seed angry.
Zarah didn’t release the arrow. She knew how tough troll hide was. One shot might not do the job, and if it scread—
The entire forest would hear.
She held her breath, and the troll did the sa, causing a tense silence to stretch between them.
Then it happened.
A sound broke through the stillness. Low. Drawn out. Not a roar exactly, more like the hum of an engine idling in your skull.
Zarah’s heart stopped.
The young troll whimpered and backed away.
And that told her everything.
It was close.
The Mooncat.
She’d never seen it before, but she’d heard stories.
A predator that hunted under nightmare moons. Silent, patient, unstoppable.
It didn’t roar or scream. It purred.
And in that haunting, bone-deep hum... was a revelation.
It had found its prey.
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