Then, her image shifted.
From the outstretched hand offering salvation, the vision slowly climbed upward—like a camera panning in a film—until it reached her face. The blur softened, then sharpened, the edges of the world folding inward into a quiet vignette that framed her like she was the only thing that mattered.
Her eyes.
They were kind. Deep. Wet with unshed tears that shimmered under the strange painted light of that world. She wore a smile—not the confident kind, not the heroic kind—but the fragile, stubborn smile of someone trying to convince a frightened child that everything would be okay… even if she wasn't entirely sure herself.
Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, subtle but warm, grounding her in a way that made everything else feel unreal. Her hair—wild, untamed, a blazing red—spilled around her shoulders and tangled into her dark green robes like it had a mind of its own. Messy. Alive. Human.
And those eyes—blue. Not just blue. The kind of blue that felt like it could see straight through you. Not in a threatening way. Just… honest. Like there was no hiding from them.
Yeah. Definitely a player, I thought. But not the usual kind.
The scene shifted again.
The young goblin—small, bloodied, trembling—backed away from her, retreating toward the fallen body on the ground. Panic. Confusion. Survival. She tried to lift an arm—literally an arm—from the lifeless goblin, dragging it, struggling with all the strength her tiny body could muster.
It didn't budge.
She pulled again.
Nothing.
Then—
Movement.
A baby goblin climbed onto the body, chubby, oblivious, smiling as if the world hadn't just fallen apart. It played, giggling silently, tapping at the unmoving form like it expected a response.
The wind whispered through the tall grass, the colors of the world swaying in soft waves—greens, yellows, faint streaks of red like watercolor bleeding across canvas.
It was beautiful.
And it hurt.
Like someone painted hope and grief on the same page and said, "Yeah, deal with it."
Man… if this was a movie scene, it would win awards, I thought. The composition alone? Chef's kiss. The emotional damage? Also chef's kiss… but like, the painful kind.
The young goblin noticed the baby.
Instantly, she dropped the arm and scrambled forward, throwing herself over the little one. She hugged it tight, baring her teeth, hissing—silent but fierce—placing herself between the baby and the approaching human.
Protect.
Even in fear.
Even in chaos.
She stood her ground.
"It's okay."
The voice returned.
Warm. Gentle. Like sunlight breaking through clouds.
The red-haired woman crouched slightly, careful, slow. No sudden movements. No threats.
"It's okay," she repeated.
Then she reached into her robe and pulled out… something.
Chocolate?
She extended it forward, palm open.
"You must be hungry," she said softly. "Here… yummy food."
The young goblin hesitated.
Every instinct screamed danger.
But the baby…
The baby reached first.
Tiny hands grabbed the offering, bringing it to its mouth, chewing, sucking—its face lighting up in pure, innocent delight.
The older goblin blinked.
Confusion cracked her fear.
The baby let go, waddled forward, and—of all things—grabbed the human's hand, smiling wide like this was the best day ever.
The colors of the world shifted.
Soft tones brightened. The washed-out hues gained depth, shimmer, life. Tiny flecks of light—like glitter caught in the wind—spiraled gently around them.
The young goblin's guard faltered.
Food.
Warmth.
No attack.
Just… kindness.
Slowly, cautiously, she reached out and took the second piece offered to her.
The moment her fingers touched it—
The scene accelerated.
Like someone hit fast forward.
Oh boy, here we go again.
The next image snapped into place.
The woman—Lilly—walking through a dense forest, carrying the toddler goblin in her arms. The older goblin followed close behind, still wary, but no longer afraid. The forest swayed in soft colors, the world alive but calm.
Cut.
A campfire.
Shadows danced wildly against the night. Figures—goblins, the woman—moving, laughing, singing… though no sound came. Only the crackle of fire, the whisper of wind.
Cut.
A river.
Water rushing gently over stones. The toddler—now older—held up a fish proudly, beaming with silent triumph.
Cut.
A bear.
Big. Brown. Angry.
Charging.
Everyone ran.
And somehow—
They were smiling.
Cut.
The same bear sat near the fire later, wearing a makeshift splint, two lumps on its head, tears in its eyes while the group danced around it like this was completely normal.
Okay, I'm not even questioning that anymore.
Cut.
Mountains.
Wide, breathtaking, stretching endlessly under painted skies.
The group—larger now—rode on the bear's back. Goblins. Other creatures. All together. Traveling. Living.
Cut.
More scenes.
Fighting monsters.
Walking along shores.
Quiet nights under endless stars, insects humming softly in the dark.
Each moment stitched together like memories pulled from a life actually lived.
The group grew.
More goblins. More beings. Different shapes, sizes, species.
A family.
Then—
Shift.
A tent.
The mood snapped.
Goblins in armor—angry. Aggressive. Shouting without sound. Bloodied weapons thrown to the ground. Accusations. Fear. Rage.
Lilly stood still.
Listening.
Urkap—younger—stood beside her, shocked, torn.
Cut.
A veranda.
Lilly stepped outside, overlooking a village far more advanced than the one I'd just seen. Structured. Alive. Thriving.
She looked up.
The stars stretched endlessly.
She breathed.
And for the first time—
I could almost hear it.
Cut.
Battlefield.
Chaos.
Heroes—different armors, different weapons—facing Lilly's group in the forest.
Lilly spoke.
No sound.
Then—
They attacked.
Everything exploded into motion.
Steel. Magic. Blood.
Cut.
Aftermath.
Bodies everywhere.
Friend and foe.
Lilly stood among the survivors—fewer now. Tired. Breathing hard.
More heroes appeared in the distance.
Endless.
Smiling.
Like this was a game.
Lilly looked back at her people.
They were losing.
No—
They had already lost.
The enemy surged forward.
Lilly reacted.
She hurled her staff.
A magic circle burst into existence, expanding rapidly, glowing with raw power.
Urkap—voice silent but desperate—ran toward her.
Then—
Everything collapsed inward.
The vision folded, pulled like fabric into a single point—
—and snapped.
I was back.
Walking.
Holding Kala.
Urkap beside me.
Like nothing happened.
"Rest, hero," Urkap said gently, her voice grounding me back into reality. "You will need it for what lies ahead."
I tried to speak.
"Hey—wait—what happened—"
Nope.
Cutscene rules.
My body kept moving on its own.
We reached a small shack.
Simple. Quiet.
I stepped inside.
Turned.
Closed the door.
Darkness swallowed everything whole.
And just like that—
I slept.
Or at least…
I think I did.
Because even in that darkness—
There was a lingering feeling.
A weight.
Like something unfinished.
Something watching.
But honestly?
I was too exhausted to care.
My last coherent thought drifted lazily through my mind as everything faded—
Oh man…
—and then nothing.