The clearing was quiet in the aftermath of battle, the air heavy with the scent of acid, blood, and scorched earth. The goblins, battered and breathless, gathered around Ren—not with fear, but with awe and gratitude. They called him "savior," "tribe's shield," "spirit of vengeance." Some clapped his trembling form, others pressed crude tokens of thanks against his surface. Where once there had been suspicion, now there was only fierce loyalty. Ren was not an outsider; he was their champion.
Yet as the cheers faded and the tribe set about tending to their wounded and fortifying their camp, Ren drifted to the forest's edge, his thoughts swirling. He watched the sunrise filter through the branches, painting the world in gold and crimson. The system's interface hovered at the edge of his awareness, pulsing with the promise of new power—evolution, skill points, the next step.
But Ren's mind was not on power. It was on the memory of the humans' faces as they died—their pain, their terror, the way his acid had eaten through flesh and bone. He remembered the warmth of his old life, the laughter, the small comforts of humanity. He remembered the hope that maybe, somehow, he could find a place in this world without becoming a monster.
Now, he saw the truth. The world was not a game. There was no room for hesitation, no space for the old rules of mercy and compromise. Here, survival was everything. The goblins survived because they were ruthless, clever, and united. Ren had saved them not by clinging to his humanity, but by embracing his new nature.
He watched the goblin children play, their laughter ringing through the trees. He saw Grik, the leader, organizing the warriors, preparing for the next threat. He saw Lady Mirielle tending wounds, her hands steady and sure. They all looked to him—not as a curiosity, but as the pillar upon which their fragile hope rested.
Ren knew what he had to do. If he wanted to protect his tribe, if he wanted to carve out a future in this brutal world, he would have to let go of the last shreds of his old self. He would have to become what the world demanded: a monster, yes, but a monster with purpose—a guardian, a scourge to his enemies, a legend whispered in fear and awe.
The system's interface brightened, as if sensing his resolve.
Evolution Available
Skill Points: 4
Warning: Hostile Forces Detected Nearby
Ren opened the menu, the choices unfurling before him. Acidic Slime, Iron Slime, Healing Slime, Mimic Slime, Venom Slime—each a path away from the person he once was, each a step deeper into the world of monsters.
He did not hesitate. He reached for the power, feeling his core pulse with determination.
If I want to survive—if I want my tribe to survive—I can't be human anymore. I have to become something more.
As the first rays of dawn touched the clearing, Ren's body began to change. The goblins gathered, watching in breathless anticipation, not with fear, but with hope and pride. Grik raised his spear in salute, and the children cheered.
The world spun, light and shadow swirling as Ren's evolution began. He felt his old self slipping away, replaced by something stronger, fiercer—something that belonged to this world.
And as the system's power surged through him, as the forest held its breath for what he would become, Ren knew there was no turning back.