Humanity was the peak of existence. At least, that's what Revan Freeman believed with every fiber of his being.
Other people saw humans as ordinary, flawed creatures, just one race among many. But Revan? To him, being human was the greatest honor in the world. No race, no creature, no fantasy could surpass them.
And he hated anyone who dared suggest otherwise.
He couldn't stand comics or novels, especially the kind that portrayed non-humans as superior. Even something as harmless as a children's book about elves living in harmony with humans set his blood boiling.
The worst was the day he saw a comic in a bookstore window. The main character wasn't human, it was a slime. A slime lording over Humans.
That was the last straw.
Revan stormed into the shop, bought nothing, and instead burned the place down. He stood there, watching the flames consume the shelves, the counter, and every single copy of that comic. By the time the fire brigade arrived, it was too late.
That little stunt landed him five years in prison.
When asked why he did it, his answer was always the same.
"How dare they undermine humanity? How dare they exalt another race above us?"
People laughed at him. Some mocked him. Others cursed him for being insane. But Revan didn't care. In his mind, he was right. Even if those stories weren't real, the mere idea of humans being lesser was unforgivable.
It wasn't long before everyone turned against him. His obsession with human supremacy made him unbearable. His neighbors hated him. Strangers spat at him. Even his family wanted nothing to do with him.
By the time he turned twenty-five, Revan Freeman had become a pariah.
And then one night, the people who despised him most decided to put an end to his madness. They broke into his room, weapons in hand. No matter how much he screamed about humanity's greatness, no one came to help him.
They beat him to death in his own home.
That should have been the end of Revan Freeman.
But death had other plans.
---
When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was not a ceiling or the light of heaven. It was darkness. A void. And then… a cave.
He was reborn.
Not in his old world, but in a new one. A world called Thyrennor.
It was a land brimming with magic and danger. Elves, dwarves, giants, sea dwellers, and even monsters lived there, fighting and competing for survival and supremacy.
And of all the forms fate could have given him, Revan was reborn as… a goblin.
The irony nearly broke him.
---
From the very beginning, he loathed what he was. The thought of being a goblin made him want to end himself. If he'd had the strength, he would've killed himself right after birth. But as an infant, all he could do was cry.
His goblin mother did her best. Every time he wailed, she held him close, thinking he was afraid or in pain. But the truth was crueler.
Her very touch disgusted him.
He cried because her hands were not human hands. He cried because her heartbeat wasn't the rhythm of a human chest. He cried because he could feel the difference, because he hated it.
She never knew. To comfort him, she told him stories about the world. She spoke of the great races that lived in Thyrennor, the proud elves, the sturdy dwarves, the mysterious Iliodans of the sea.
To Revan, every word was salt on an open wound.
'Vermin. They should know their place.'
In those moments, as he listened to her tales, Revan formed a new vow. If this world dared place other races alongside humanity, he would fix it. He would crush them.
'They will kneel before humanity. They will tremble at our greatness. They will learn to worship us, not compete against us.'
It wasn't just a dream. In this world, strength ruled. Magic and power could make an individual greater than an entire army. If he could reach that height, he could make his vision a reality.
That became his new goal.
But first, he had to deal with the cursed fact of his goblin form.
---
Time passed quickly. Goblins aged faster than humans.
At just five months old, Revan could already walk and talk. His body was small, barely four feet tall, with green skin that cracked like dried leather. His eyes were a pale white that glowed eerily in the dark. He hated everything about it.
Even worse, goblins had short lifespans. Twenty years at most before death came.
"I wouldn't expect any less from an inferior race," Revan muttered one day, spitting on the ground.
"Are you okay?" she asked, a fellow female goblin his age.
Goblins were naturally pale, but she still worried about him. She sat under the shade of a tree, watching him with concern.
'Mind your business, worm!' he snapped. He stood and stormed away.
The goblin village wasn't even worth calling a village. Shabby straw tents barely held together by sticks swayed in the breeze. They lived deep in the woods, hiding from humans who hunted them on sight.
Revan couldn't even blame the humans.
"Of course they hunt goblins. They deserve to be hunted."
She ran after him. When she caught up, she leapt at him playfully, trying to hug him. But Revan noticed the shadow over his head and sidestepped. She crashed face-first into the dirt.
"Geez, not again…" she groaned, wiping her face.
"Like hell I'd let you touch me, you disgusting excuse for a living being."
She only pouted, brushing it off. It wasn't the first time he insulted her.
"Keep talking like that and I won't marry you when we grow up," she said with a laugh.
Revan ignored her. His eyes were fixed on the village ahead.
He saw the goblins walking around, their hunched bodies, their pitiful lives. He saw the children fighting over scraps, the elders coughing their last breaths in the dirt.
This was his life now. This was what he had been forced into.
And in that moment, he made a decision.
Enough was enough.
He would not spend his days living like this.
The foolish Goblins who dared to eve think they have a chance at life, he would end them all.