Marcel and his mother sat on the veranda, watching the rising sun. They didn’t do this often, but Marcel loved these morning breakfasts together. He’d be still slightly muddled with sleep, his mind treading the fine line between the waking world and dreamland.

“Eat up, Marcel,” his mother said, passing him a cream puff generously sprinkled with red berries.

“These are called ferberries,” she pointed at the little fruits. “Your father has managed to convince a travelling merchant to bring some back from where I grew up. They used to be my favorite thing in the whole world when I was your age.”

A faint smile arose on her lips as she reminisced. “Me and my sisters would even sneak out to pick them in the forest when our parents weren’t looking. Though they could always tell by the red juice on our faces.” she added with a chuckle.

Marcel put one of the pastries in his mouth. The delicate crust instantly crumbled, releasing a rich filling of whipped cream. It was absolutely delicious.

The ferberries were even tastier. They gave a satisfying crunch when bitten and squirted with syrupy juices. Marcel thought they were even sweeter and more delectable than the candied cherries their cook prepared come fall season.

The treats were so tasty that Marcel briefly forgot about everything else and simply stuffed himself like a hungry puppy.

The rising sun continued its steady climb. The veranda was bathed in its glow. Rays of soft light fell on Marcel’s body, wrapping around him like a warm blanket. The air was perfectly still and only the sound of crunching berries disturbed the otherwise serene morning.

After who knows how many treats had disappeared down Marcel’s throat, he finally noticed that his mom was no longer speaking.

For a moment he stopped chewing to look at her. She was still there, but completely motionless, sitting perfectly still like a living sculpture. The gentle smile he knew so well was frozen on her face.

“Mom…?” Marcel asked hesistantingly, but soon his jaw started working again. The pastries were just too tasty, and he simply couldn’t help himself.

His mother didn’t reply. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that there were rivulets of some red liquid running down her forearm. It looked like the juice from the ferberries.

His eyes followed the red trail. But when he looked up at his mother’s hand, he noticed that her ring finger was missing, replaced by a bloody stump. A large paw gripped her hand, its claws piercing the delicate skin.

“Mom?” Marcel asked again, smacking his lips the same time. A sense of terror was slowly building in his mind, but even so, his mouth didn’t stop moving. His tongue continued slurping down more of the sweet juices.

His mother didn’t reply. She remained completely motionless. But in her eyes Marcel saw a mix of revulsion and horror that shook him to the core.

“Mom!” Marcel tried to say, but no words would come out. He could only hear the sound of his teeth, vigorously crashing and smashing the delicious food in his mouth.

“Mom!” Marcel finally managed to shout, spraying warm juices everywhere. “Mom!”

There was no reply.

But her face was steadily getting closer.

“Mom! No!”

His mother was so close they were almost touching. Marcel could even smell the light aroma of the perfume she loved to wear. He realized it smelled a bit like the puff pastries.

“NO!” Marcel shouted, horrified. He tried to push his mother away, but the claws of his hand only pierced the skin of her face. The more strength he employed, the deeper his claws sunk in her flesh.

“No! Mom! I’m-” Marcel tried to say, but the beautiful face of his mother was already gone, ripped apart by his claws.

Only a single eye remained.

It continued to stare at him.

In its reflection, Marcel was able to see a monster.

The beast opened its jaws, ready to take the last, final bite.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Marcel screamed at the top of his lungs.

A terrified shriek echoed within the core area of the dungeon.

The noise alerted some of the goblins who rested on the floor in preparation for their next hunt. They opened their eyes and stared curiously at Marcel, but he wasn’t in a state to register it.

His heart was racing so furiously, it felt like it could break at any moment. A layer of cold sweat covered his body.

“Mom… No... I...”

Curled up on the floor in the fetal position, Marcel sobbed quietly. His small frame shook as an unending stream of tears ran down his cheeks.

It was the third day since he had chosen to awaken his memories.

The members of his team were nowhere to be seen, having already left to patrol the maze.

While they were conditioned to instinctively follow their captain, there was an even more basic, more fundamental directive that they could never disobey.

Fulfill your purpose.

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Defend the dungeon.

Of course, even in the absence of such a directive, there was little chance that the goblins under Marcel’s command would choose to stay with him, instead of going out to hunt.

A deep rumble arose from Marcel’s belly.

“Please, no…” Marcel begged.

Scenes from his nightmare flashed in front of his eyes. He saw his mother again, the loving smile he knew so well, replaced by the look of deepest revulsion. But this time the sight of her face didn’t inspire a feeling of dread in Marcel. Instead, he felt…

“NO!”

The vision changed, replaced by a cauldron bubbling with thick stew. Succulent meats chopped up into little cubes floated on the surface. A terrible thought crossed his mind, If only I’d eaten the stew before awakening my memories, I wouldn’t be so hungry...

“Stop, just make it stop…” Marcel whimpered as a torrent of conflicting emotions and desires raged inside his mind. Fear, hunger, self-loathing, despair. It felt like his whole body was on the verge of breaking apart, unable to contain its inner turmoil even a second longer.

And then it stopped.

A much calmer part of himself had emerged to take over the reins.

The goblin that survived the fights in the nursery and rose above his comrades to become a captain. The one who single handedly slayed the intruder hoping to defile the dungeon.

He closed his eyes and focused on the rhythm of his chest.

His heartbeat slowly calmed down and resumed its steady pulse. The feral energy coursing through his body didn’t disappear, he could still feel the call of the beast, but the meditation was enough to prevent it from completely taking over.

He could even feel that every time he drew a breath, his body grew a little stronger.

[Progress towards the mana core: 23%]

He stared at the familiar walls of the dungeon and the goblins around him without a shred of fear.

Initially, Marcel tried to convince himself that “he” truly was a separate being. That while “he” was a goblin created by the dungeon, Marcel was just a simple boy whose soul was grafted onto this creature in some bizarre accident.

But he couldn’t lie to himself any longer.

There was a sense of connection between them. Or rather, there wasn’t any sense of a boundary separating them. The memories of his human life felt just as real and intimate as the scenes of gruesome battles he fought over food in the nursery.

They might’ve gone through a completely different set of experience, but deep down, Marcel knew that the very essence of his being was the same one as that of the nameless goblin.

They were one.

He let out a long sigh.

Marcel could switch between the two points of view almost at will.

It reminded him of the times he and his parents would sometimes picnic on the grounds surrounding the mansion and cloudwatch.

“Look, mom! It’s a duck!” Marcel would point at a passing cloud and exclaim.

“No, it’s clearly a bunny,” his mother would reply with a smile. “Can’t you see how fluffy its ears are?”

And then Marcel would look again, and realize his mom was right. What he thought was a beak, would change into a pair of long ears. And if he blinked again, the bunny would once more transform into the image of a duck.

But no matter how hard he tried, he was never able to see both the duck and the bunny at the same time.

Sometimes the question of which one was it would bother Marcel so much, that he’d run around the mansion and ask everyone for their opinion. Still, no one knew. Only his teacher, master Credio, seemed to have an inkling, but instead of explaining, he’d pose Marcel a question of his own.

“Perhaps, you should start with asking yourself, what is a duck?”

But that only left Marcel even more confused than before.

What he experienced now, was very similar to the duck-bunny dilemma.

If he wished so, he could escape the dread that the dark walls of the dungeon inspired in him at any moment.

He’d just blink his eyes and the groups of terrifying monsters would transform into his kin. His brothers and sisters, all sharing one parent, and one purpose.

There wouldn’t be any need to suffer the ravages of hunger any more. He’d once again become a warrior of his tribe, qualified to partake in the communal pot.

He could spend the rest of his life this way.

But it would mean giving up on ever seeing his parents again.

The thought made him turn his attention to his status window.

He wasn’t sure if it had changed due to the skill or if his consciousness grew, but he could now glean a lot more information from it.

STATUS

Name: Marcel Deschain

Titles: Goblin Captain, Reincarnator

Species: Goblin (dungeon bound)

Level: 1 (35/200)

Force: 8.4

Mana: [-] (Progress towards the mana core: 23%)

-Attributes-

Strength: 8

Agility: 11

Stamina: 7

Constitution: 9

Intelligence: 14 [+9!]

[0 unspent attribute points remaining]

-Skills-

Empowered Thrust (lvl 1)

Awaken Past Memories (lvl 1)

Falric Meditation (MAX)

[0 unspent skill points remaining]

He directed his eyes towards the cursed skill.

[Awaken Past Memories (lvl 1)]

[Return the memories of your previous life.]

There was an option to upgrade it further, but…

[Awaken Past Memories (lvl 2)]

[Cost: 10 skill points.]

[Minimum Required Level: 20]

It was impossible. No matter how many times Marcel had tried to unlock it, the same message would appear.

He lowered his head as fresh tears ran down his cheeks. He couldn’t forget the look of disgust on his mother’s face. The coldness in her eyes when she looked at him.

“Mom, dad… forgive me...”

All she saw was a monster.

“But I need to see you again.”

He stood up.

Armed with the dagger marking him as captain, Marcel Deschain stepped into the dark maze in search of the trespassers who dared to threaten the dungeon.