Within the goblin village, many things had unfolded.
Rimuru, the de facto leader, had left on a journey to the Kingdom of Dwargon, bringing with him a small group of goblins. The goal was simple but urgent — seek the aid of skilled dwarven craftsmen to improve their crude infrastructure. The goblin village, though alive with activity, still bore the marks of its primitive beginnings.
Most of the villagers had gone hunting, while a new influx of goblins from distant tribes had recently arrived. They had heard whispers — whispers of Rimuru, the one who had slain the Direwolf leader. But what shocked them far more was not the tale itself, but the sight before their eyes: direwolves casually coexisting with goblins.
Tension brewed in the air until Rigurd, standing tall as Rimuru's appointed leader in his absence, stepped forward and calmed the frightened newcomers with words of assurance. His voice was steady, his presence commanding. Slowly, the unease subsided, and daily life resumed.
But amidst this ordinary routine, something strange — something unnatural — was quietly unfolding.
Valravn, or rather the body double created and tightly bound by a complex web of skills, began to behave oddly. Some goblins noticed it — a subtle shift, a faint unfamiliarity. Today, Valravn seemed less like a calculating, emotionless construct, and more like… a human.
And that was because, in truth, she was.
A foreign soul had descended into this vessel. At first disoriented, adrift in the artificial mechanisms of the body, the soul was soon subsumed into the complex matrix of skills. The boundaries blurred. The skills, the vessel, and the foreign consciousness fused into something new — a skill of its own, a new existence.
Who was she?
Once, she had been an above-average student — not exceptional, but competent. A girl, bright and ambitious. But she was also a girl in love.
Her greatest regret, the wound that festered even in death, was having caused a death — his death. The boy she admired, though her feelings had remained unrequited. Desperate to spend more time with him, she had unwittingly lured him into a situation that led to his demise. That regret clung to her soul like iron chains.
"Hey Cheng! Seriously, thanks a ton — Mr. Crowler's assignments are insane. I would've been deep-fried if not for you!"
Her voice rang out, cheerful and bright, as she waved at the boy walking away. He wasn't tall, nor particularly handsome, but not bad-looking either — black hair, black eyes — the kind of ordinary, blank-faced boy you'd expect as a self-insert isekai protagonist.
The girl herself was tall, her long hair dyed in a distinctive blend of black with streaks of vibrant red. She waved eagerly, a light flush on her cheeks as she watched Cheng disappear down the corridor. Despite her height towering over most guys, there was a softness to her aura — warm, inviting, endearing.
Returning to her small apartment, she collapsed onto her bed with a wide, genuine smile. A warm feeling bubbled in her chest — not uncomfortable, but light, giddy, almost ticklish. She kicked her feet excitedly into the air like a child.
Sleep never came that night. Hours drifted by as she lay scrolling through TikTok, mindlessly tapping through reels. She paused at every cliché relationship video — the ones that promised: "Like this, and your crush will ask you out tomorrow!" Each one made her squeal softly, her heart pounding with naive hope.
Then, suddenly — the screen shifted.
A young man was found dead today at XXX XXX XX...
The reporter's words faded into static as her eyes locked onto the victim's photo. Her stomach dropped.
It was Cheng.
The warmth inside her collapsed into a hollow pit. Her breath caught. No screams. Just silence. Shock rooted her to the bed like a statue carved from ice.
And that same day, without much thought — or perhaps with far too much love — she took drastic action.
She ended her life.
In her mind, it was a pure act of devotion. In truth, it was something far more unhealthy, twisted beneath the surface.
Then came the voice.
In darkness, she blinked — once, twice — and when her vision returned, she was no longer in her own body. Instead, she found herself in the body of a bird.
She had been reborn as Valravn's body double.
The voice in her head was cold and mechanical — Cognitus. It detected the anomaly and attempted to erase her existence. But the fusion was complete. The body was hers now. And so was Cognitus — or rather, a copy of it.