?Murk-Gnasher paced the length of his private chambers, the stolen gold of his crown catching the flickering torchlight. His lean, wiry frame was tense. He turned to the hulking hobgoblin standing by the door.

  ?"Ready the humans," the King barked. "The ones we haven’t processed into rations yet. Pick the strongest ones."

  ?"My King?" the hobgoblin rasped. "The Void-Walker... she killed the Wyvern alone. Why more humans?"

  ?"She killed the beast because it threatened her," Murk-Gnasher snarled, his eyes narrowing. "But she did not strike the blow with joy. She has a 'soul' in her—a human stench I do not like. I have a new Champion, but I will not have a useless one. Today, we see if she will kill again."

  ?The silence in Lot One was absolute. Phantom sat on her cot, staring at the three empty beds. The smell of copper and salt still seemed to cling to her skin, no matter how much she tried to rub it away. She was no longer a teammate; she was a survivor in a room full of ghosts.

  ?The iron gate ground open. A guard didn't call for the "Lot" this time. He pointed a jagged spear directly at her.

  ?"The King calls," the guard grunted. "Move."

  ?Phantom followed, her daggers tucked into her belt. As she stepped onto the Arena floor, she saw five humans standing in the center. They were armed with decent steel—short swords and shields—and their eyes held a flicker of something more dangerous than terror. They had hope.

  ?From his high box, Murk-Gnasher stood, his voice booming through the cavern.

  ?"Listen well, cattle!" the King shouted to the humans. "The creature before you is my Champion. If you can kill it—if you can bring me its head—you are free to leave this mountain. You have my word."

  ?The humans didn't hesitate. To them, she was just a small, green monster standing between them and the sun. With a desperate roar, they surged forward.

  ?Phantom didn't draw her blades. As the first sword swung for her neck, she simply let the darkness take her. She faded into a shadow, appearing ten feet away. The humans turned, hacking at the air, their movements frantic and uncoordinated.

  ?For several minutes, the "match" was a mockery. Phantom moved like a wisp of smoke, slipping through their legs and appearing in their blind spots, but never striking back. She was a ghost, refusing to be a murderer.

  ?The jeering of the crowd turned into a confused murmur, then into an angry roar.

  ?"Enough!" Murk-Gnasher’s voice cracked like a whip.

  ?Suddenly, the torches around the Arena floor flared into life. The magical oil burned with a blinding, white intensity that chased every shadow from the stone. Phantom was violently ejected from the darkness, her small frame stumbling as the sudden light burned her sensitive eyes.

  ?A shadow loomed over the Arena. With a thunderous crack, Murk-Gnasher jumped from his balcony, a forty-foot drop that he handled with the grace of a predatory cat. He landed directly on two of the humans, the sheer force of his impact crushing them into the stone.

  ?Before Phantom could blink, the King was in front of her. His hand, larger than her entire torso, slammed into her chest, pinning her to the ground with a force that made her ribs groan.

  ?She tried to shove him off, her Incarnate Strength surging, but Murk-Gnasher didn't budge. He was stronger, his power condensed into a frame as hard as iron.

  ?"You took my Champion," the King hissed, leaning down until his needle-teeth were inches from her face. "You showed the crowd a god, and now you refuse to fight? You think your mercy makes you better than us?"

  ?He tightened his grip, cutting off her air.

  ?"You will stay in that cell until your spirit rots," he spat. "You will die in your cage for your insolence."

  ?He hauled her up by the throat with one hand, dangling her like a broken toy. He gestured to the guards, his face a mask of cold fury. "Take her back. Double the guard. No meat. Let the Void-Walker see how much mercy she shows when she is starving."

  ?The guards moved in, their torches surrounding her in a ring of fire as they marched her back to the empty silence of Lot One. The heavy iron door slammed shut, and the lock turned with a final, heavy click.

  ?The darkness of Lot One was no longer the comforting shroud of a teammate; it was a hungry, heavy thing. For days, the only sound was the drip of water from the cavern ceiling and the muffled, distant cheers of the Arena that continued without her. Murk-Gnasher was a man of his word—no meat came through the slot in the door. No light was permitted in the hall.

  ?Hunger began as a dull ache, then sharpened into a jagged blade that twisted in Phantom's gut. Her goblin body was efficient, but it was small, and it burned through fuel quickly.

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  ?She sat in the center of the room, her back to the empty cots of Twitch, Skitter, and Kora. In the absolute blackness, her Perception began to shift. She stopped looking with her eyes and started feeling with her Arcane stat. She could feel the shadows of the stones, the silhouette of the iron bars, and the rhythmic, slow pulses of the guards standing just outside the door.

  ?“If you don't entertain the King, he cuts the food,” Kora’s ghost seemed to whisper in the dark.

  ?Phantom closed her eyes. She reached out, not to move through the shadows, but to understand them. She could see everything that was connected by the shadows. Her hunger was hitting its apex. Phantom begins to smell the scent of the gaurds outside her cell door. The scent of any flesh to a starving goblin smelt heavenly. Phantom reaches into her stash and equips her Phantom Arc and the Magician's Quiver. She prepares an arrow aimed at the small window on the iron door. She could see the torch that was keeping her shadows from connecting to the outside. She let's go of the arrow, it quickly hits the torch. Knocking it off the wall and putting it out. The two gaurds bend down to investigate the torch. Two small yellow eyes can be seen behind the gaurds. Within a flash, Phantom sinks her teeth into the guards. Filling her stomach and killing them in one motion. The small goblin stood over the two lifeless body's as a small trickle of blood can be seen running from the corner of her mouth.

  A sudden burst of power began to swell up within phantom. Her body began to bubble out and shrink back, in various spots of her body. Phantom looks down at her hands as she wonders what is happening. Her bones began cracking and reforming. Her limbs stretched out and gained some bulk. She realized what was happening. Phantom was now a stage two hobgoblin. She clenches her hand a few times, testing her new strength. She looks down the hallway seeing the other lots. Holding various elemental goblins.

  ?The hallways were a labyrinth of flickering light and jagged stone, but to Phantom, they were a roadmap of opportunities. As she moved, she became a phantom in truth. She didn't just walk; she flowed. Every torch she passed was snuffed out—either by a flick of a stolen dagger or a concentrated burst of darkness that smothered the magical oil.

  ?"Go!" she whispered to a group of terrified fire-elemental goblins she had just liberated from Lot Three. "The eastern tunnels are clear. Run until you see the stars."

  ?They didn't need to be told twice. They vanished into the gloom, their small footsteps fading as Phantom turned her attention back to the heart of the mountain. She wasn't leaving yet. Her human conscious wouldn't let her depart while Murk-Gnasher still sat on his throne of bones.

  ?She reached the Great Hall. The heavy stone doors were guarded by four Stage three Vanguard Commanders—hobgoblins in full plate armor. They stood like statues, their halberds crossing over the entrance.

  ?Phantom didn't even slow down. She merged with the shadow of a passing stone pillar and traveled across the floor. She erupted between the two guards on the left. In her new Hobgoblin form, her reach was longer, her strikes heavier.

  ?

  ?Her daggers found the gaps in their neck guards before they could ready their weapons. As the other two turned, she didn't use steel. She threw out her hands, and the shadows of the guards themselves rose up like black silk, wrapping around their throats and crushing their windpipes.

  ?She shoved the heavy doors open.

  ?Murk-Gnasher’s private chamber was a sprawling cave filled with looted tapestries and piles of gold. The King was standing by a balcony overlooking the empty Arena, his back to her. He didn't turn around immediately, but his ears twitched.

  ?"I told the guards no interruptions," Murk-Gnasher growled. "Unless the dud finally died in her cage."

  ?"The dud is dead," Phantom said, her voice now a resonant, dangerous alto. "But I’m still here."

  ?Murk-Gnasher spun around. His yellow eyes widened as they raked over her new, taller form. The lean muscle, the steady hands, and the sheer pressure of the Arcane energy radiating off her.

  ?"A Hobgoblin?" Murk-Gnasher let out a jagged, barking laugh, though his hand drifted toward the massive, black-iron broadsword leaning against his throne. "You evolved? All that mercy, and the darkness still claimed you in the end."

  ?"I claimed the darkness," Phantom corrected. She dropped into a low combat stance, her daggers reverse-gripped. "And now, I’m claiming your crown."

  ?Murk-Gnasher didn't waste time with words. He moved with the explosive power of an Overlord, the black-iron sword whistling through the air in a horizontal cleave that would have split a normal goblin.

  ?Phantom didn't parry. She leaped, her boosted agility making the world seem to move in slow motion. She flipped over the blade, her toes glancing off the flat of the steel, and lashed out with a kick that caught the King in the jaw.

  ?Murk-Gnasher stumbled back, snarling. He swung again, a vertical strike that shattered the stone floor where Phantom had been a millisecond before. The shockwave rattled her teeth, but she was already behind him.

  ?She drove a dagger toward his kidney, but the King was fast—he caught her wrist in a grip of iron and slammed his elbow into her ribs. Phantom wheezed as the air was punched out of her, but she didn't let go. She channeled her Dark Manipulation through her captured arm, the shadows creeping up Murk-Gnasher’s limb like frost.

  ?The King roared in pain as the darkness began to wither his flesh. He threw her across the room, sending her crashing into a pile of looted shields.

  ?Phantom rolled to her feet, tasting copper in her mouth. Murk-Gnasher was breathing hard, his withered arm hanging limp at his side, but his eyes were glowing with a suicidal frenzy.

  ?"You think you're a hero?" the King wheezed, raising his heavy sword with his one good hand. "You're just a monster with a better mask!"

  ?"Maybe," Phantom said, her daggers beginning become consumed in shadows. The darkness drifting upwards off the blades. "But at least I'm the one who's going to walk out of this cave."

  ?She sprinted forward, not as a shadow, but as a bolt of lightning-fast steel. Murk-Gnasher swung with everything he had left, a desperate, wide arc meant to catch her.

  ?Phantom dove into the swing, sliding beneath the blade on her knees. As she passed, she drove both daggers into the King's stomach, dragging them upward with a guttural scream of effort.

  ?Murk-Gnasher’s sword hit the floor with a hollow clang. He stood frozen for a second, looking down at the blood spilling from his chest, before his knees buckled.

  ?Phantom stood over him as he slumped against his throne. The King reached for his crooked crown, his fingers trembling, before his hand fell limp. The light in his yellow eyes flickered and died.

  ?The cavern fell silent. Phantom looked at the fallen King, then at the crooked gold crown. She didn't pick it up. She turned toward the balcony, looking out at the dark, empty Arena where her cellmates had died.

  ?"It’s over," she whispered.