The morning sun cast long shadows across Goblin's Hollow, though "Hollow" was no longer an apt description for what had become the fastest-growing sovereign territory on the continent. Where once stood crude wooden structures and muddy pathways now rose buildings of obsidian and silver, their architecture impossible by conventional standards—towers that twisted like frozen smoke, bridges that seemed to float without support, and walls that pulsed with a subtle rhythm, as though the city itself were breathing.
Reed stood atop the central spire of what his subjects now called the Convergence Citadel. His transformed body absorbed the sunlight differently than human flesh—not warming, but somehow charging, the silver veins beneath his obsidian skin glowing more intensely. Below him spread his domain, a sprawling metropolis that defied conventional understanding of what a kingdom should be.
