Life in the jungle was steady for Jannet and the group. The mansion, now a sprawling network of rooms and features, continued to grow with each passing season. Despite its grandeur, the den had remained functional and practical for their reptilian needs. The group itself had grown closer, especially Rose and #1, whose cozy shared room symbolized the success of #1's persistent courtship efforts. Their bond was a source of amusement and warmth for Jannet, though he often teased them through subtle memetic nudges to make their affection less awkward for the rest of the group.

For the past year, however, an unusual pattern had begun to emerge. The sound traps and alarms scattered around their territory frequently triggered—not from hunters or local fauna but from a new, strange presence. These intruders weren’t humans but short, green-skinned goblinoid creatures. Jannet hadn’t seen anything quite like them in his previous life, though he couldn’t help but recall the creatures from Labyrinth.

Unlike the goofy puppets of Earth movies, these goblins were very real. They moved in frantic packs, carrying sacks of belongings and looking over their shoulders as if pursued. Occasionally, one would trip a trap or get caught, only for its companions to work together and free it with surprising efficiency. They weren’t here to fight; they were fleeing. Something was driving them south, and their numbers were growing.

Jannet had been mulling over the implications of this migration when #1’s unusual behavior pulled his attention back to the present. Usually energetic and focused, #1 was oddly lethargic today, barely touching his food. He sat near the den’s edge, staring off into the distance. When Jannet nudged him with memetics, trying to communicate concern, #1 didn’t respond. Instead, a faint glow began to shimmer around him.

“#1?” Jannet hissed, alarmed.

The glow intensified, becoming a blinding flash of light that forced everyone to shield their eyes. When the light faded and Jannet looked back, the familiar #1 was still sitting there—but he was different. Larger, with thicker limbs and scales that gleamed with a deeper hue. Above his head, a new identification floated in Jannet’s vision.

Varanus priscus

Level: 1

Size: 15 feet from snout to tail

Name: [Unnamed]

Stage: Mature

Age: 8 years

Gender: Male

Jannet blinked, struggling to process the change. Just moments ago, #1 had been a Varanus komodoensis at level 33. Now, he was something entirely new—a different species altogether. By the looks of it a primitive, more powerful version of their kind.

Jannet's mind raced. This was evolution, an undeniable transformation, and it wasn’t just his system at work. The others were growing, changing, evolving. It hit him like a thunderclap: the system wasn’t unique to him. The others were experiencing it too, in their own way. He wondered if they had achievements—hidden milestones of their own—but his thoughts were interrupted by a more immediate concern.

“This house isn’t going to be big enough anymore,” Jannet muttered, glancing around. “We’re going to need… upgrades.”

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The following day, the group moved with precision to check the latest alarm trigger. Jannet, Rose, and the now-larger #1 blended seamlessly into the underbrush, their camouflage skills honed by years of practice. The traps and alarms had been ringing out frequently, but this time felt different.

Jannet’s eyes narrowed as they reached the trigger site. There, crashing through the undergrowth, was a small group of goblins. It wasn’t a raiding party or a scouting patrol—this was a family. Adults, children, and even what looked like infants clung to scraps of cloth and each other, their eyes wide with panic. Their movement was frantic, bordering on desperate, as if whatever was behind them would give no mercy.

Jannet signaled the others to hold their position and watch. Rose and #1 stilled, their eyes locked on the goblins. Then, from deeper in the forest, an arrow whistled through the air. It struck a tree mere inches from one of the adult goblins, who yelped in fear. The group’s panic intensified, the children stumbling and crying as the adults tried to carry them faster.

Jannet’s claws flexed against the ground, his instincts warring with his thoughts. This was a level of desperation he hadn’t seen before. What could drive them so relentlessly?

Another arrow flew, missing by a hair. The goblins screamed louder, but Jannet noticed something odd. These weren’t organized fighters—they were terrified survivors. Whatever was hunting them wasn’t trying to drive them off; it was trying to kill them.

“Rose,” Jannet whispered, memetically nudging her to stay calm. “Stay low. Watch.”

Rose’s sharp eyes locked on the deeper shadows of the forest, where faint human shapes moved. Jannet’s heart sank as he saw the goblin children struggling to keep up. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t going to stop at the goblins. His home, his group—they could be next. But for now, all he could do was observe, his mind racing to piece together the puzzle of what lay to the north.

Joss knelt at the edge of the clearing, his bowstring drawn tight, an arrow nocked and ready. He watched the goblins stumble through the sparse undergrowth, their frantic flight making them careless. He smirked. These pitiful creatures had no discipline, no survival instincts worth a damn. It wasn’t surprising—they were vermin, after all, barely capable of thought.

“Moving kids and property like that,” he muttered to himself, spitting on the ground. “They’ve got to have a stronghold nearby. Stupid bastards.”

Behind him, his hunting group murmured in agreement, eager to strike. Joss felt his pulse quicken. The anger he carried for these creatures burned hotter with every breath. These weren’t just goblins to him—they were the reason Marn was dead. They’d used their filthy tricks, those damn lizards, to bleed and maim him. Marn had spent his last days delirious and fevered, raving about eyes filled with intelligence and cruelty.

Joss’s hand tightened around his bow as he signaled to his companions. “No quarter,” he hissed. “Take them all.”

The first arrow flew, striking one of the adult goblins in the back. It fell with a strangled cry, its sack of belongings spilling to the ground. The children screamed, their tiny legs scrambling to find cover as more arrows rained down. Joss watched with grim satisfaction as they fell, one by one, their small bodies crumpling like broken twigs.

The clearing reeked of panic and death as the hunters closed in, stepping over the bodies to retrieve their arrows. Joss crouched over the fallen adult, rifling through its belongings with disgust. Broken trinkets, bits of cloth, and worthless scraps—it was always the same with these creatures. He yanked his arrow free with a grunt, flicking off the blood.

"Nothing but trash," one of the hunters muttered, kicking a sack aside.

Joss’s stomach twisted with rage as he thought of Marn. These vermin didn’t even understand what they’d taken from him. His brother had deserved better than to die at the hands of these lizard-loving monsters.

Then, from the treeline, a low hiss cut through the air like a blade.

Joss froze, his hand instinctively reaching for another arrow. He turned his head slowly, his heart pounding as he saw movement in the shadows. Three massive lizards emerged, their eyes gleaming with a predatory focus that sent a chill down his spine.

The largest of the three was a monster, easily fifteen feet from snout to tail. Its powerful frame moved with a deliberate grace, its scales gleaming faintly in the dappled sunlight. Joss felt his throat tighten. It wasn’t just big—it was intelligent. The way it watched them, its head tilting slightly, reminded him of a commander surveying a battlefield.

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“Oh gods,” one of the hunters whispered, stepping back. “What the hell is that?”

The lizards didn’t attack, but they didn’t retreat either. The largest one stood between the hunters and what they now saw was the last remaining goblin, its tail swishing lazily through the dirt. The two smaller lizards flanked it, their bodies tense and ready to strike.

Joss swallowed hard, his grip on his bow tightening. His group outnumbered the creatures, but the sheer size of the largest one made his stomach churn. It hissed again, the sound low and rumbling, and Joss felt the primal part of his brain screaming at him to run.

“Back up,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Slowly.”

The hunters began to retreat, their movements cautious and deliberate. The lizards didn’t follow, but their eyes never left the humans, watching every step they took. Joss’s heart hammered in his chest as he retreated into the trees, the weight of the lizard’s gaze pressing down on him like a physical force.

When they were far enough away, one of the hunters exhaled shakily. “What the hell was that thing?”

Joss didn’t answer. He couldn’t shake the image of those cold, calculating eyes. That wasn’t just an animal.

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Back in the clearing, Jannet watched the humans disappear into the trees, his body coiled with tension. The hunters had come too close—too close to the goblins, too close to their home. He hissed softly, his tail flicking as he turned to look at Rose and #1.

Rose’s massive frame was a reassuring presence, her claws scraping against the dirt as she prowled the perimeter. #1 stood beside her, his size and strength now rivaling hers, his keen eyes scanning the forest for any signs of movement.

Jannet’s eyes fell on the remaining goblin huddled against a tree in the aftermath of the attack. The child trembled with fear. He didn’t care much for goblins as he looked upon it—they were outsiders, strangers—but he couldn’t deny the strange pull he felt to protect it. Maybe it was the system at work, pushing him to act as a guardian. Or maybe it was something deeper, a lingering fragment of humanity that refused to let him ignore suffering.

Whatever the reason, he knew one thing: the humans were a threat. And if they came back, they wouldn’t leave alive.

The little goblin clung tightly to Jannet’s back, its small hands gripping his scales for dear life as they moved through the jungle. Compared to Jannet and the other lizards, it was barely more than a speck, a fragile bundle of nerves and fear. Still, its warmth against his back was oddly comforting—a sensation Jannet hadn’t felt in years. The jungle’s shadows danced around them, but Jannet’s thoughts were elsewhere.

Memetically nudging Rose and #1, he communicated the gravity of the situation. We need to prepare. This is no longer about survival. If we’re going to hold this territory, we’ll need a plan. They acknowledged him with subtle gestures, their movements as silent as the rustling leaves.

Despite the tense thoughts swirling in his mind, Jannet couldn’t help but glance back at the goblin. It was clearly exhausted but also curious, its wide eyes darting around at every vine and branch they passed. The way it marveled at the world around it made Jannet pause. It was a stark reminder of how little the goblin knew of what lay ahead.

The den came into view, its entrance hidden among dense foliage and well-placed traps. Crawling inside, Jannet felt the goblin loosen its grip and slide off his back. The little creature stood frozen, staring at the enormous cavern that served as the group’s home. To Jannet and the others, the mansion was a comfortable, functional space. To the goblin, it must have seemed like a palace.

The goblin’s gaze swept over the kitchen, its wide eyes locking on the meat pile stacked near the cooking pit. Drool pooled at the corners of its mouth, and its little stomach let out an audible growl. The sound made Rose chuckle—an intimidating, throaty rumble that the goblin didn’t seem to register in its excitement.

It wandered deeper into the den, finding Rose’s artistic wall carvings in the dirt. The goblin reached out, tracing the patterns with its fingers before suddenly crouching on all fours. With an intensity that surprised Jannet, it began to draw its own pictures in the dirt floor.

Jannet tilted his head, watching as the goblin sketched a crude but clear scene: a small goblin standing alone. The goblin pointed at the drawing, then at itself, nodding emphatically. Jannet let out a soft hiss of amusement but stayed silent, waiting to see what came next.

The goblin continued, its tiny fingers scratching furiously at the dirt. It drew a towering figure—a lizard, unmistakably modeled after Jannet—and added a group of goblins bowing before it. Finally, it pointed at Jannet and mimicked the bowing motion from the drawing.

Jannet blinked in surprise. Worship? Me? He hadn’t expected this level of reverence, especially from a creature so young. Still, the humor of the situation wasn’t lost on him. With a flick of his tail, he joined the goblin on the floor, carving his own picture beside its work.

Jannet’s depiction was simple but clear: the goblin standing shoulder to shoulder with a group of lizards. He added a small heart above them, his tail dragging delicately across the dirt to complete the image. The goblin tilted its head, processing the drawing. Then, to Jannet’s astonishment, it gave a wide, toothy grin.

Using his tail and forelimbs, Jannet gently scooped up the goblin, placing it back on his broad back. The creature seemed delighted, clapping its hands as Jannet carried it toward the cooking pit. The rest of the group was already waiting, and the air was rich with the scent of roasted blade chicken.

Jannet set the goblin down beside the fire, where it immediately dove into the slightly charred meat. The little creature ate with abandon, tearing at the food with a reckless joy that made the other lizards tilt their heads in amusement. Lil’ Guy, always the most nurturing of the group, settled beside the goblin, nudging it affectionately with his snout. The goblin responded by hugging Lil’ Guy’s face, its tiny arms barely reaching halfway around.

Jannet watched the scene unfold, his thoughts briefly calm. The sight of the goblin’s rounded, contented belly filled him with an odd sense of peace. It reminded him of what family should feel like—warmth, safety, and togetherness.

Then, the familiar voice echoed in his mind.

Achievement Unlocked: Bound Beyond Blood

“By extending compassion and care, you have formed a bond beyond species boundaries, adopting and nurturing a being as your own. This act of unconditional love and commitment sets a precedent that will inspire future generations across both species.”

Rewards:

* Title Unlocked: Guardian of Kinship

+5 Charisma

+10% increase in ally loyalty and effectiveness with the adopted creature or its species.

* Skill Reward: Heartbond

* Empathetic Link: Sense the emotional and physical state of the adopted being.

* Shared Strength: +5-10% stat boost for both when working together.

* Kinship Aura: Nearby allies gain morale and stamina regeneration in the presence of the bond.

Before Jannet could process the implications, another notification followed.

Achievement Unlocked: Chains Forgiven

“In an unprecedented act of compassion and courage, you have guided a species to break free from an age-old cycle of hatred and slavery. Instead of vengeance, they chose love and acceptance, redefining their shared destiny.”

Rewards:

* Title Unlocked: Harbinger of Grace

+5 Charisma, +5 Wisdom

+20% effectiveness in peace-building actions or diplomatic negotiations.

* Skill Reward: Cycle Breaker

* Empathy Aura: Reduces hostility and fosters trust in conflicted factions.

* Unity Catalyst: +15% success rate for collaborative efforts.

* Chain Reversal: Converts fear and hatred into loyalty over time.

Jannet shook his head, a bemused hiss escaping his throat. He glanced at the goblin, who now dozed peacefully against Lil’ Guy’s side. Above its tiny head, a status bar floated into view.

Goblinoid

Stage: Infancy

Size: 1 ft (head to feet)

Age: 9 months

Level: 3

Gender: Male

“Looks like you’re part of the family now,” Jannet thought, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lizard mouth. The goblin stirred slightly, its contented expression unchanging.

Lil’ Guy shifted closer, wrapping his tail protectively around the sleeping goblin. As the fire crackled and the lizards settled in for the night, Jannet let himself relax. For the first time in a long while, he felt something resembling hope.