The Goblinth watched the human. The sunlight glinted off the strange, scaled armor. White scales, covering every inch of the human's form. It was unlike any human the little monster had ever encountered. But it wasn't just the appearance. An aura, a feeling of immense power, emanated from the human. This wasn't a hunter, stalking monsters for sport or survival. This was something else. Something more dangerous.

The Goblinth's jaw clenched. Just another human. The thought was a grim comfort. Humans were all dangerous, in their own way. It had witnessed it before: the raw brutality, the sudden death. It had seen, in a clearing, the aftermath of a human's demise. Torn flesh, the stench of blood, and blue wolves feasting on the remains. Even the strongest of humans could fall. So, what about this one?

A wave of apprehension washed over the Goblinth. It had never intentionally attacked a human before. But this one... This one felt different, stronger. The little monster had to weigh the odds carefully.

It took a slow, deliberate breath, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. The muscles in its legs tensed, ready. It placed a foot on a branch, testing its weight. The wood creaked ominously. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, it launched itself from the tree, the world tilting as it fell. The plan, a desperate gamble, formed in its mind. It would not be enough to try for a single blow. It needed to go further.

With a grunt it put all of its strength, all of its being into it. It threw the club.

The Goblinth expected the club to hit the human in the head. It was strong. Big. Spiked. It should stun the human. Then, the plan was to use the claw and stab the human right in the back of the neck. Yes, this was it.

But something went terribly wrong.

The human somehow heard it. The human turned. He used his long, scaly stick to hit the club. He hit it with so much force, the club was launched to the side. The club hit a tree and broke in half. Dammit, it didn't work. The monster saw its plan crumbling to dust, but there was still hope. It removed the long claw from its waist. It was ready to stab this human at a vital point right in the neck. The human was fast, but he can't possibly be-

Suddenly, the human jumped with a round kick. The strong leg of the human connected squarely with the monster's face, specifically in the nose. Pain that felt like an explosion in its body ran through its nerves and the force of the kick launched the little monster away.

The little monster smashed into a tree and the tree splintered. Then it smashed into another one, a two-foot-thick tree, and that tree splintered again. Then it hit another tree, and that tree splintered also. The raw power behind this attack was brutal and devastating. So much pain ran through this creature. It felt like it wanted to die.

The little creature fell to the forest floor. Finally.

It layed on its back, sprawled across the forest floor. It coughed, ragged and raw. It had never been this badly hurt before. Sure, it had once fallen from great heights, been mauled by wolves, even stabbed, but this kick… The moment it landed, every nerve ignited in excruciating fire. More than pain, it was a deep, burning, piercing agony that cut through to a new level the creature didn't understand.

Now, the pain dulled just slightly.

Green blood dripped from its cracked lips, staining the leaves beneath. Its small chest heaved, rising and falling with shallow breaths. Was this the end? Was it about to die?

That thought seared through its mind, and yet, a new resolve took root.

Its head smolted, fragile and trembling, as footsteps approached through the underbrush.

The human was coming.

The creature felt strength stir within, a spark of defiance. It had grown stronger since its last fight. It still had the broken weapon, even if it was snapped in two. That claw could still be used. It could craft a new one. If death came now, it would simply rise again. Start over.

The figure appeared in its vision.

The creature looked up through burning eyes. Its teeth clenched tightly as a groan escaped, a sound half plea, half determination. It tried to move, to rise, but something was wrong. Not a lack of will but a lack of strength , it couldn't move its legs. Pain radiated from its back where it had slammed against the trees.

The human's eyes narrowed, lips moving in low mutters, words unknown to the creature, foreign sounds it couldn't comprehend.

The little creature stopped trying. This was it. It was going to die. It was certain. It could still move its hands, but what did that matter? It couldn't do anything. It was going to respawn somewhere else and start this life all over again.

The human muttered something else, watching it with the air of an observer rather than an executioner. The little monster felt impatience, why didn't the human just finish it already? It rolled its eyes, a small gesture that seemed to surprise the human.

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Then an idea struck it.

Humans grew stronger from killing monsters; it, too, grew stronger from killing monsters, just like every monster in this zone. The human had defeated it, yes, but if anything, it wasn't going to let the human grow stronger from it. Its death would not come by the human's hand.

Tightly gripping the claw in its hand, it tried to drive the heavy load into its own neck, attempting to commit suicide.

Suddenly, the human moved with incredible speed. He swiftly closed the distance, grabbed the creature's hand, and ripped the claw away, throwing it aside.

What?

This wasn't supposed to happen.

It should have killed itself, preventing the human from gaining strength.

Tears filled its eyes. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair at all.

All the held-back pain, the emotions, suddenly unleashed. Tears, like a torrent, poured from its eyes and its mouth. It cried. The sound, thin and soft, like a toddler's wail, filled the air. It smashed its arms against the forest floor, pounding them in a furious rhythm. Its legs, which had been immobile, now began to flare up and down, like a small child throwing a tantrum.

Through the tears, through the emotional burst, the Goblinth saw the human. He grinned. Was he taking pleasure from this? Or did he find this funny? This wasn't funny. It was crying.

Suddenly, the human moved again. He crouched down and put his hand on its chest. This was it, the Goblinth thought. It was going to die. This human was going to crush it to death with his hand. It still flared its arms, but then he didn't.

Instead, the little creature felt something alien. A burn, a warmth, on its chest. But it wasn't painful. The soft skin of the human was against its chest. And no malice radiated from this human.

It stopped, letting out a confused, "Huh?"

The human then muttered something, a smile on his face. Not a grin, but a smile. Why? He stood up, and the creature looked at him, the human was saying something, something filled with... pity? It didn't understand. But what was going on? It felt like this human was trying to communicate.

Humans didn't do this. They killed. Monsters. But then, why was he...

The thought was cut short. The human vanished. No, not just the human, but the entire world. The Goblinth was in a blue space, like the sky, but with no ground. Up, down, and all around, just the blue. But...it was standing. Standing on the sky? Bizarre.

It catalogued sensations it had never experienced: a strange stillness, a sky that went up in every direction, and the feeling of being watched by something vast and indifferent.

No pain. No fear. Just curiosity. Where was this place? Had it died? Was this another monster zone?

It looked at its hands.

Across its chest, intricate circles glowed faintly, like a tentative map etched into flesh. It traced the markings with a careful finger, sensing them as both scar and symbol. A white, sun-like mote descended from the blue, suspended overhead. It hovered,the size of the creature's head, radiating a pale, almost holy light. The fear that had clung to the creature's chest drained away in a slow, almost refreshing current, leaving behind an odd sense of safety as the light began to wash over it.

The creature's skin brightened to a pearly white, its eyes taking on a soft luminescence. It felt as if a veil had been lifted, as if something long hidden was gradually being rinsed free. The light wasn't pain; it was a renewal, a quiet erasure of something the creature had carried for too long. What remained, whether it signified a new form, a new fate, or simply a shifting perception, felt both terrifying and enthralling.

The sensation persisted, stretching into what felt like a long moment. The creature stood, then drifted, as if it were hovering rather than standing. Its feet rested on something solid and smooth, yet the body felt weightless, suspended in a space that refused to conform to ordinary ground.

Then the vision shifted to a scene that appeared without warning: a sleeping human, lying in a dark room. The man seemed different here, bare from the waist up, chest rising and falling in quiet rhythm, the room devoid of all sight or sound except for the slow breath of the sleeper. The creature's memory flooded back: the green monsters that had rejected it, and the humanoids who did not reach out with warmth or welcome. It had always been the one seeking connection, never the one sought after. To embrace first.

Touch remained perilous for this being, a currency of life or death. The only times touch became real were when the creature found itself in a struggle for survival, when it fought, was struck, or was forced into contact by force. Those are the moments it learned to interpret touch not as warmth, but as a weapon, a means of defense, a way to endure.

In the current moment, the glow intensified as the vision shifted. It saw the sleeping human, the room dark and intimate, and it suddenly remembered the times it had sought contact and been denied. The creature's chest pulsed with a remembered rhythm the memory of contact that had once promised belonging but ended in coldness. The thought of reaching out now carried a dangerous lure: the possibility of a true connection, not born of violence, but of mutual recognition. Yet the scene also clarified what touch had meant for others in its past, a boundary, a barrier, a test, never a simple gesture of care.

The moment stretched, a patient, heavy stillness that felt almost like a heartbeat held in air. The creature hovered above the sleeping human, weightless and precise, its feet resting on a surface that looked solid yet seemed to resist gravity's pull. The glow along its skin glowed brighter in sleepy pulses, as if the light itself were listening.

The room came into focus in quiet, tactile detail: wooden walls, a dusty floor, and a bed meant for a single person where the human lay asleep, breathing even and soft. The creature's gaze lingered on the human, who appeared peaceful as the world receded to silence around them. The memory of warmth, a touch the creature had felt before, recurred with a clear, almost tangible sense of care.

It was not hostile; it carried the impression of acceptance, of being invited. Yet the truth of the past loomed: the human's kind contact existed within a larger, harsher truth about humans being capable of harm.

A soft ache pressed within the creature's chest, a question about whether such a connection could truly happen, whether the world would permit it, whether the human would allow it. The creature wondered if this moment could be more than a memory or a wish.

The thought flickered once more: perhaps the human could accept this, perhaps not. It felt like a joke to hope for something that might never come.

Then the vision sharpened. The intricate circles on the creature's chest glowed briefly, flickered, and disappeared. In that instant, a quiet certainty settled: this human might be the one who could accept it. The world outside the room seemed to pause, and in that stillness, the creature sensed a possibility opening, an unspoken bridge between two beings, a chance for a form of contact that did not exist before.

The Goblinth sensed itself falling. The glowing had vanished. Now, it settled slowly onto the human's body. Strange. It had wanted this, but never imagined it happening this way.

It rested, slowly, against the human's chest. Carefully. Fully. The human's skin was so soft. Unlike any other monster it had ever touched. Warm. It felt... pleasing.

It didn't know if the human would wake. Maybe the human knew something about this. It had thought it had died, only to find itself in another monster zone. But now...this. Humans often used unusual methods for unusual results. Perhaps this was one of them.

The uncertainty brought a small amount of comfort.

It spread its arms across the human's body. The human's eyelids fluttered, almost as if waking.

The goblinth spread its arms across the human's chest, each movement measured and respectful. The human's eyelids fluttered, hints of waking in a room that held its breath alongside them. Then the goblinth pressed its ear to the human's chest, not as a showy gesture but as a true listening, a private listening that belonged just to them both. Astonishment rose as it heard a heartbeat, the same.

The room was quiet enough to hear a single breath draw through the air, the kind of hush that makes a heartbeat sound like a drum in a hollow chest. It did not know why the moment felt so suspended, only that it wanted to hold onto it as long as the world would allow.

The creature studied the face in the dim light, the line of the jaw, the soft curve of the lips, the sudden stillness that made the room seem to tilt toward quiet reverence. There was a strange pull there, as if the human carried a warmth not just in skin but in something deeper, something that might welcome a gentler proximity.

As the minutes stretched, the creature's own breath slowed to match the human's measured rhythms. The warmth it had sought so long ago bloomed anew, not as a spark of danger but as a glimmer of possibility.

The human stirred, a sigh lifting from the chest, eyelids fluttering as consciousness returned. The room's shadows shifted with the slightest movement, and for a heartbeat the creature wondered if it had imagined the warmth, if the moment would vanish into the ordinary again.

They locked eyes.

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