They watched for over an hour.
The goblin was alone, carrying a bundle of twigs and bits of metal, muttering to itself in a low, growling language. It didn't seem particularly alert. It didn't need to be. This was its home.
That was its mistake.
Caleb waited until the creature stepped into a narrow gulley, out of view of the village.
Then he signaled.
Soren and Marek circled. Dina moved with him. Ellen stayed behind, watching from the rise.
The goblin bent to dig something out of the dirt.
Caleb pounced.
It turned, too late.
He tackled it. Fought past the stench and the scrabbling claws. It bit at him, snarling. But he had leverage. And Marek was there a second later, pinning its arms.
Dina struck. A rock. One blow to the skull. Then another.
Then silence.
The goblin twitched once. Then it didn't move at all.
Blood soaked the grass.
Nobody spoke.
Dina stepped back, panting. Her arm trembled.
"That's one," Soren muttered.
But Dina didn't move.
She stared at the body. Her mouth opened, then shut. She took a shaky step back, turned around, and bent over. The sound of retching broke the silence.
Ellen flinched. Marek looked away.
Caleb didn't say anything at first. He just watched her.
After a moment, he stepped closer, his voice low. "You okay?"
Dina wiped her mouth, nodding too quickly.
"I'm fine."
She wasn't.
"You did good," he said.
"It's not that. I just…" She looked back at the body. "It looked at me. Like it knew."
"It did."
Her jaw clenched. "Then why do I feel like I'm the monster?"
Caleb didn't answer that.
There wasn't one.
The interface flickered.
EXPERIENCE GAINED.
+2.7% EXP (Caleb)
+2.3% EXP (Dina)
+2.1% EXP (Soren)
+1.7% EXP (Marek)
They dragged the body into the underbrush and covered it.
Then they studied it.
It was male, or male-ish. Green-gray skin, rough and leathery. Big eyes. Teeth like needles. Its clothing was a mix of animal hide and what looked like torn human fabric—ripped jeans, maybe a belt. Its tools were crude but functional. The weapon had been a jagged piece of rebar tied to a stick.
"They seem to be primitive," Marek said.
"They don't seem to be very stupid either stupid," Caleb replied.
Soren nodded. "That weapon was sharp."
Dina didn't speak.
Ellen's voice crackled in over the link. "Anything?"
"It's dead," Caleb said. "We'll return soon."
They didn't take trophies. Just knowledge.
When they returned to the rise, the sun hadn't moved.
Time in the Tower was strange.
Caleb knelt beside a tree. "We can kill them. But not face-to-face. Not fifty."
"So what do we do?" Soren asked.
Caleb drew a crude map in the dirt with a twig. "We pick off the edges. Learn their routines. Find where they sleep. If they rotate shifts. How fast they respond."
Marek caught on. "You want to thin the herd."
"We make them paranoid. Fractured."
"And then?"
Caleb looked up.
"Then we burn their home down."