Zoe stared at the cave wall, all hope of ever being a normal human long since extinguished. The goblins' whispers about 'using' her again slithered through the darkness, and she felt the familiar dread settle over her like a shroud. This was her life now—an endless cycle of violation and degradation. She'd barely eaten, surviving only on the occasional scraps the goblins tossed her way when they remembered she needed sustenance.

Then came the screams. At first distant, then growing closer, the high-pitched wails of goblins in agony echoed through the caverns. Heavy footsteps approached, accompanied by the sickening sound of blade meeting flesh. The guards outside her cell fell first, their cries cut short.

Then the figure appeared in the entrance, weapon still dripping with goblin blood. Their eyes met, and Zoe could only stare lifelessly, too exhausted even to flinch. No hope flickered in her hollow gaze—just the vacant stare of someone who had witnessed too much cruelty to believe in salvation. Her mouth opened slightly, as if forming words long forgotten, then snapped shut again. Whatever she might have said was lost to years of silence and suffering.