In a world woven with magic and mayhem, where knights clashed with dragons and sorcery lit up the night sky, Kevin had been just another face in the crowd. A die-hard fan of fantasy comics, he had spent his days lost in stories of heroic quests and epic battles, where brave warriors triumphed over evil and dragons were tamed or slain. But Kevin's life was uneventful, bound to the mundane reality of modern life, where fantasy lived only in the pages of his favorite books. That all changed one fateful night.
Kevin had been deeply immersed in his latest obsession, a graphic novel about a legendary knight slaying a vile dragon. The panels were vivid, almost alive with energy, and the ink seemed to pulse beneath his fingertips as he turned the pages. Suddenly, the world around him warped. The ink began to swirl, lifting from the pages in smoky tendrils that wrapped around him. Panic seized him, but before he could react, the room dissolved into darkness.
When Kevin awoke, the world was no longer familiar. His heart pounded as he took in his surroundings—a dim, rancid cave, its stone walls slick with moisture. A fire sputtered in the corner, casting faint light across the space. He was surrounded by hunched, snarling figures, their green skin glistening in the firelight. The realization hit him like a sledgehammer: these were goblins.
Kevin tried to rise, but his body felt strange. His limbs were shorter, his hands clawed, and his skin—his skin was a mottled green. Horrified, he stared down at his reflection in a nearby pool of water. He was one of them.
Disgust churned in his stomach. Goblins were nothing but vermin, cannon fodder for heroes in the stories he'd read. They were weak, pathetic creatures, barely worth a mention. And now he was one of them? The thought sickened him, but something else stirred beneath the horror. A spark of something primal. The realization that this was no dream, no hallucination, but his new reality. And in this world, he could either cower like the goblins around him or rise above them.
Kevin clenched his fists, the claws digging into his palms. No. He would not be weak. He refused to be a mere goblin. The stories he had read flashed through his mind—heroes, villains, monsters. Power was the currency in this world, and if that was true, he would find a way to seize it. His mind raced, already calculating. He might have been reborn as a goblin, but he still had one advantage: knowledge. Knowledge of how these worlds worked, of how creatures like him could ascend if they were cunning enough.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to look around the goblin den with clear eyes. There were at least a dozen goblins in the cave, squabbling over scraps of food and snarling at one another. They were dirty, their eyes dull, their movements clumsy. They were everything he hated about goblins in the stories. But there was something he noticed now, something he hadn't considered before. They weren't just vermin. They were survivors. These creatures, weak as they seemed, lived in a brutal world, fighting every day to stay alive.
If they could survive, so could he. But not just survive. Kevin's jaw tightened with determination. He wouldn't just live in this world; he would conquer it. Goblins may have been lowly, but he would not remain one for long. He would evolve, grow stronger, faster, smarter. He would find power and bend it to his will.
The thought ignited something deep inside him—a hunger for power, for control. He could feel it, like a dark flame burning in his chest. He had always been fascinated by characters who clawed their way to the top, by any means necessary. Now, he had the chance to become one of them. To rise from nothing, to seize everything.
Over the next few days, Kevin observed the goblins, learning their ways. They were crude, relying on instinct and brute force. But there was potential here. He watched the hunting parties go out, watched them fail more often than they succeeded. They were disorganized, fighting among themselves even as they faced enemies. They lacked strategy. Kevin knew he could do better.
He started joining the hunts, keeping a low profile at first, but gradually taking more initiative. He suggested ambush tactics, positioning the goblins in ways that made them more effective against the humans and beasts they hunted. Slowly, the others began to notice his ideas worked. They didn't understand why—they weren't thinkers—but they respected results. And Kevin's results were undeniable. The raids became more successful. They brought back more food, better weapons. And with each victory, Kevin felt the flame inside him grow.
Then came the day that changed everything.
It had been a routine raid on a small human village. The goblins were supposed to loot and retreat, but the humans had been prepared. A band of raiders ambushed them, and chaos erupted. Goblins fell quickly, overwhelmed by the armored men. Kevin's mind raced. They were losing. The raiders were too strong, too organized.
But Kevin refused to die here, on some nameless battlefield, as just another goblin. He shouted orders, his voice cutting through the din of battle. "Circle around! Draw them into the trap!" The goblins, in their panic, obeyed. They followed his commands, retreating just enough to lure the raiders into a narrow pass.
That's when Kevin struck.
Using the terrain to their advantage, Kevin led the remaining goblins in a counterattack. They overwhelmed the raiders with sheer numbers, hitting them from all sides. One by one, the humans fell. And with each kill, Kevin felt it—the surge of energy inside him, growing stronger, pushing against the limits of his body.
When the last human dropped, Kevin staggered back, his chest heaving. The battlefield was quiet, the goblins panting in the aftermath of victory. But Kevin was focused inward, on the power rising within him, ready to burst free.
The change came suddenly. His muscles rippled, his bones cracked and reformed. His body expanded, stronger, faster. His claws sharpened, his senses heightened. The goblins stared at him in awe as his form twisted and shifted. This was it—his first evolution.
When it was over, Kevin stood taller, his green skin gleaming with newfound strength. He flexed his fingers, feeling the power coursing through his veins. He was no longer just a goblin. He was something more—stronger, faster, smarter. And this was only the beginning.
He glanced around at the surviving goblins, now looking at him with a mixture of fear and respect. They had seen his transformation. They knew he was different. Kevin grinned, a cold, calculating smile. Good. They should fear him. They should respect him. This tribe, these creatures, would be his first tool, his first step toward true power.
As the sun set on the bloody field, Kevin looked out at the horizon. He could feel it now—the hunger, the drive to conquer. This world was full of creatures more powerful than goblins, but he would surpass them all. He would evolve again and again, until nothing could stand in his way.
He was no longer just Kevin. No longer just a goblin. He was a predator, a monster in the making.
And the world would soon learn to fear his name.