Byung's eyes fluttered open to the dim glow of the morning sun slipping through the cracks of his chamber door. His body felt heavy, like it had been weighted down with iron chains during his sleep. The room was quiet, the air stale with the scent of damp stone and bandages he was yet to throw away. He sat up slowly, wincing as his muscles protested—the evolution had remade him, but the bruises from Kraghul's fists lingered as it didn't heal the wounds during the evolution, his body still had to go through its natural healing state.

How long had he been out? The migraine from before had faded, but his head still throbbed with a dull echo. A soft knock echoed from the door. Byung wondered who it could be or if he should answer it all.

"Byung? You awake? It's Borkle. Good time to talk?" The voice slipped through the door.

Byung rubbed his eyes, swinging his legs over the bed's edge. His feet hit the cold floor with a thud, sending a jolt up his spine.

"Come in," he called, voice rough from just waking up. Byung was yet to adjust with his new form, he was small but he was a lot bigger than he was prior to it. He was also curious was the requirement to trigger the level up was.

The door creaked open, and Borkle slipped inside. The older goblin's face was smudged with dirt, eyes wide and worried. He knew there was something going on with Byung because how could he come back from that and remain sane, casting flickering shadows that danced across the walls like nervous spirits.

"You look... different. Taller. But like crap too. You okay?" Borkle questioned.

Byung waved it off with a bandaged hand, standing to test his balance. The room spun for a second, then steadied.

"I'm fine. Just slept longer than I liked. How long was I out?" Byung questioned because Borkle had been keeping an eye on him.

Borkle scratched his head in confusion as to why he was asking a question he knew the answer to already.

"Three days. We thought... well, we thought you might not wake up. Gribnox and Murkfang kept watch, but Maui shooed us off to work. Said you'd want the mine running when you came to," Borkle informed him.

Three days. Byung cursed under his breath upon realizing he had asked this question before.

"What's the state out there?" Byung questioned. He wanted the unfiltered truth because he could only estimate how many goblins had died. Borkle shifted his weight uneasy.

"We're holding. Orcs pulled back after the Chieftess showed. But we need to rebuild. The fences are down in spots, and supplies are low. What do you want done first?" Borkle informed him but Byung raised a brow, Chieftess? What was he talking about?

But this was the least important thing in what he had said. Byung paced the small space, mind already racing.

"Erect a higher metal fence around the main entrance. Use the iron from the forges—reinforce with spikes and barbed wire. We can't afford another breach." He stopped, turning to Borkle.

"But what do you want? You didn't come just to report," Byung picked up on it as there had to be something important if he was coming to him this early in the morning.

Borkle sat on the crate, fiddling with his fingers.

"It's... personal. I was scared, Byung. Really scared. You were messed up bad—face all swollen, blood everywhere. Thought the king himself had fallen. I stayed up nights watching, in case you needed water or something. You're... you're everything to us now," Borkle confessed.

Byung's expression softened for a moment, the cold edge in his eyes cracking.

"I appreciate it, Borkle. Really. But I've heard that a lot since waking up. Everyone's saying the same thing. I'm fine. We have to move on," Byung informed him. Borkle nodded, but his face stayed serious.

"That's not all. I... I did something. For the mine. For you."

"Something for me? Speak," Byung gave him the go ahead but he noticed this goblin seemed loyal to him even without being sired.

Murkfang and Gribnox was who he worked for so why was he suddenly reporting directly to him? Borkle took a deep breath.

"Vrognut. He's alive. I moved him that night, during the attack. Dragged him to the punishment cage down in the deep levels. Thought if the orcs came back and you were... gone... I could use him as a bargaining chip. Trade him for peace or something. But now you're awake, it's your call," Borkle informed him.

Byung froze, his sharper features hardening. The cage—his invention, meant for reforming troublemakers, hidden in the inaccessible lower tunnels. Vrognut, the cannibal who was responsible for this mess, alive?

"You kept that monster?" Byung questioned him. Borkle nodded quickly.

"He was half-dead. No healer—just his own stubbornness keeping him breathing. I figured... if Byung can convert Drekk, heal Gribnox, maybe he can work his magic on Vrognut too. And there's a bounty on his head from the humans. Alive means gold. Dead means nothing," Borkle informed him of his possible options.

Byung chuckled, low and appreciative, the sound echoing in the small space.

"Thinking ahead like that? You're smarter than you look, Borkle. Good work," He paced again, mind turning.

"Make sure no one else knows. Lock it down. I'll decide what to do with him later," Byung said with a smile on his face.

Borkle's eyes looked at him, momentarily confused.

"You mean... keep it secret?" Borkle questioned to which Byung nodded.

"For now." Strange—if he planned to convert Vrognut, why hide? Unless... the thought trailed off, but Borkle saw the calculation in Byung's eyes and didn't press.

As Borkle left, Byung sank back onto the bed, rubbing his temples. The migraine's echo lingered, but the secret felt right. Possibilities bloomed: Vrognut as leverage, as an ally, or as a tool. Either way, he knew if Vrognut was as bad as his reputation, there was no reforming him.

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