I was foraging. Nothing special.

  Berries, roots — the kind of quiet task I actually don’t hate.

  Then the goblins came.

  Three of them. Ugly, hungry.

  Their blades were rusted. Their eyes weren’t.

  They tried to surround me.

  I didn’t give them the chance.

  One burned.

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  One screamed.

  One dropped the body.

  That’s what stopped me.

  The body.

  Human. Young.

  Naked except for bruises. Definitely dead.

  I looked down at it, already turning to leave.

  It wasn’t mine to mourn.

  Just another tragedy in this cursed jungle.

  But then… I felt it.

  Not from the body. From somewhere beyond.

  A pull.

  Like heat behind my teeth. Like my mana had heard a name it wasn’t supposed to know.

  I turned.

  Didn’t think. Just followed it.

  And that’s when I found the camp.

  Dozens of them.

  Goblins laughing, dancing, drinking from skulls.

  And in the center—him.

  A boy in a cage. Beaten. Bleeding.

  But his eyes… his eyes were alive.

  Full of something savage and human all at once.

  He wasn’t like the corpse they’d been dragging.

  He was something else.

  Something the world hadn’t made peace with yet.

  And I—

  I didn’t ask questions.

  I didn’t give warnings.

  I set the world on fire.

  The camp went up like dry leaves.

  When it was done, only he was left breathing.

  I didn’t know his name.

  Didn’t know what he was.

  But the jungle had pulled me to him for a reason.