He could hear it.
Clear as day, Tyberius could hear it.
A booming echo, a solemn whisper, the voice of the world reverberated inside his mind. It welcomed him to the ranks of the Beyonders, declaring truths about himself that no one else could have known, that even he had no knowledge of.
His true name, his race, his Existential Value (EV), the measure of his worth in this cruel world. It informed him of his rank, his Unique Ability, and even the racial trait he possessed, inherited by blood yet tinged with something... unusual.
He heard it all, every word of that divine message as his eyes stared forward, locked onto the chaos unravelling around him.
> "The world has turned its back on us."
Gaius's voice came back to him. The grizzled elder, one of the few goblins who dared to dream beyond their station.
> "We are the forgotten kin. Never shall we hear the voice of the world."
But Gaius was wrong. Entirely, utterly wrong.
Because Tyberius heard it. In this moment, amidst fear, confusion, rage, he heard the world's voice call to him, declare him awakened.
His blood surged with clarity, understanding of what needed to be done.
A thunderous yell shattered his thoughts.
A tall, broad-shouldered human wielding a brutal iron mace had spotted him standing apart from the other goblins. Without hesitation, the man walked, weapon raised.
Tyberius jolted out of his thoughts. Panic surged through him like a cold current.
'What do I do?!'
Fight? Or flee?
Logically, fleeing made the most sense. He had awakened, but so what? He wasn't some battle-hardened warrior. Becoming a Beyonder didn't make him invincible. No divine power had descended to protect him in this moment.
The only thing he'd gained was a chance, a right to walk a path of power, one that might one day elevate him above all others. But only if he lived long enough to walk it.
Right now, he was just like the others, the goblins being butchered like vermin.
No... not quite.
There was a difference.
Tyberius was now a Beyonder.
He had heard the voice. He had awakened to an ability, a unique one it says, accessible only to those chosen. According to Gaius, that ability would be his beacon of power.
Desperate, he tried to summon his profile.
'Status! Character Profile! Window!' he thought with frantic urgency.
None of those commands worked, not in the way he imagined. Yet, his will alone seemed to activate something within. A response stirred in his mind, and his information appeared, clear and concise, displayed in a way that he instinctively understood:
[Tyberius Gribnakh] – Origin
True Name: Ngth'rel Varkhud (Lifespan: 30 years)
Race: Goblin (Unique Monster)
Existential Value (EV): 1,000 (F-) Prey
Unique Ability: Force Reclun (Fundamental Stage) (0%)
Racial Trait: Limitless Evolution (Unique)
"No…" he muttered.
This wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. Not against the six-foot-tall brute barreling toward him with murder in his eyes.
And so, Tyberius turned and ran.
He bolted into the thick underbrush, shoving branches and foliage aside as he sprinted deeper into the woods. His only hope now was to escape.
For now, he was still prey. If he stood his ground, he would be slaughtered. And that... he couldn't allow.
Not after everything.
He hadn't clawed his way out of death, hadn't reincarnated from a lifetime of corporate slavery just to die here like a disposable enemy NPC. Not like this. Not for a sin he didn't commit.
"The prey thinks he can run from me…"
The human's voice oozed malice, added to it is excitement, a sadistic thrilling sensation, so it appears.
"Keke... This should be fun."
The hunter was enjoying this. He chased after Tyberius, his laughter echoing through the trees.
"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" Tyberius hissed under his breath, his legs burning, heart pounding.
What had he done to deserve this?!
Was simply being a goblin enough to earn him a death sentence?
He wanted, needed to believe there was more to it. That this world wasn't as cruel and unjust as it seemed.
He barely remembered his parents. They'd died not long after his birth, victims of yet another human raid. In goblin society, that wasn't even unusual. Many goblins never even knew their parents' names.
But Tyberius had been different.
Though newly born into this monstrous form, he retained the consciousness of a man who had lived four long decades on Earth. A life filled with submission to bosses, landlords, and deadlines. A lifetime of bowing, scraping, and surviving.
So no... he didn't cry over lost parents. That wasn't what hurt.
What hurt was the familiarity of it all.
Still the underdog. Still the weak. Still, the one running.
Was it not enough?
Was a lifetime of humiliation in the corporate hellscape of Earth not enough punishment?
And now, in this second chance at life, must he suffer the same fate?
"No…"
The word echoed inside him with finality.
No. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
He refused to live this life the way he had lived the last one.
Tyberius gritted his teeth, his resolve hardening more than ever.
CRACK!
A blinding pain shot through his spine.
Something slammed into his back, hard, sending him flying face-first into the dirt.
Agony exploded across his shoulders and down his legs. He let out a strangled cry, air escaping his lungs as he gasped against the soil.
His mind reeled. His vision blurred.
Behind him, heavy footsteps thudded closer. A shadow loomed.
"Thought you could run, huh?" the human jeered, voice low and gloating.
Tyberius's fingers clawed weakly at the earth. He tried to rise, but the pain held him down like an anchor.
Was this it?
Was he about to die, again, so soon after being given a new life?
No… no, he couldn't accept that.
The unfairness of all of this was just too much to accept it as it is, the difference in hierarchy was nothing to joke about.
Death for the simple reasoning that he was a Goblin?... As it stands, he might as well just give up!