The morning sun cast long shadows across the training grounds of what had once been a simple goblin encampment and was now something unprecedented in the cosmic order: The Goblin Academy. Grax Ironjaw stood at the center of it all, his weathered hands clasped behind his back as he watched the latest batch of recruits struggle through exercises that would have been impossible just cycles ago.
These were not ordinary goblins.
Each of the young warriors before him existed in a state of controlled liminality—beings who had been touched by both consciousness and void, trained to guard the boundaries between existence and negation. They moved with a precision that spoke of endless drilling, but there was something more in their movements, something that made Grax's scarred heart swell with pride.
They moved with understanding.
