The sun fell gently over the mountaintop.

In the cave, the air smelled of ripe fruit, damp earth, and fresh leaves.

Nol and his slime worked together, loosening roots without breaking them.
The middle goblin organized seeds by color.
The youngest—who was no longer so small—carried baskets with pride.

And I… watched them from the entrance.

I smiled.
Not much.
But truly.

I realized I had built a home.
And I would protect it.

Let me tell you it was a few days ago when I discovered it for the first time.

I was cutting sweet bark near a low hill when the air shifted.
A metallic hum.
A burnt smell.
The ground trembled…
And then it opened.

A crack.
Thin at first.
Then wider.
Black.
Alive.
As if it bled darkness.

From it emerged the Okais.
One.
Three.
Five.

Disorganized.
Confused.
Just stumbling out of the void.

I watched from the shadows.
Didn’t attack. Not yet.
Just watched them march.
And etched the place into my memory.

Because now… I knew where they came from.

Days later, I found another crack.
Not the same.
But it vibrated the same.
It felt like a heart yet to be born.

This time…
I didn’t hesitate.
I hid among branches and waited.

The air trembled.
The earth whispered.
And the crack opened.

First a boot.
Then a leg.
Then a voice:
—«Despejado. Avancemos».

One of the Okais walked out.
Without looking back.
Carrying something on his back.

—«Bien. Revisa el perímetro».
—«Sí, sí, ya voy…»

I didn’t understand the words.
But I understood the rhythm.
The carelessness.
The confidence.

The dagger flew.
Silence.
An open throat.

The body collapsed, not understanding what had just happened.

Second step.
—«¿Eh? ¿Qué—?!»

A knife.
Straight to the eye.
Blindness.
Collapse.
Final blow with a rock.
Hollow. Skull. Silence.

The third turned his head.
—«¡Contacto! ¡Cont—»

I threw the arrow.
Through his teeth.
The rest of the word got caught in his tongue.
Silence again.

Fourth and fifth came out together.
Laughing.
—«Te dije que no era—»

I leapt on them.
A jump from the mud.
From the underbrush.
From the shadow.

I landed on one.
Drove him to the ground.
The other tried to draw his weapon.

But I was already on him.
I bit him.
Yes, I bit him.
Like a beast would.

I drove in one of my stolen daggers.
And when the scream started to rise…
I silenced it with his own arm, cleanly cut across the throat.

The last one, still emerging from the crack, saw it.
—«¡Atr—!»

He couldn’t finish.
I was already running.
Already on top of him.

The broken spear, held tight.
Straight to the back.
Between the black plates.
Inside the body.

The Okai fell to his knees.
Didn’t die immediately.
But he didn’t rise again.

The crack, still open, only quivered.

I breathed through my mouth.
My body covered in blood.
The slime on my chest stirred, dense and hot.

But I was alive.
And they weren’t.

No one else came out.

I stepped closer.
Cautious.

The crack was a wound.
A hole that shouldn’t be there.
A door.
Not made by this world.

And then I knew:

If I wanted to protect my cave,
my three goblins,
my world…

I had to close the wound.
Cut the root.
Hunt the source.

And for the first time,
I didn’t feel like a survivor.

I felt like a hunter.