The only method to measure the passage of time here is using the dangerous expeditions they keep regularly sending us on. Terminal markers of little goblin epochs, they reliably carve notches into the muddy stick of ages in the otherwise dark, monotonous void. Undoubtedly an inconsistent tool, but it’s significantly better than nothing. With no sun, moon, nor clock, it’s so easy to otherwise lose yourself, succumbing to an empty, nihilistic leisure.

  First was that world of flames and lizards. Next came a world of ice and giant bats. Then a jungle and terrible, humongous cats. A barren asteroid where we had to hold our breaths while avoiding dangerous, oversized ticks the size of rats. I’d like to forget that one. In another, we were dumped deep under water. It was so, so dark that even our special eyes almost failed. However, we persevered and won against sharp, serrated eels that would entangle and tear apart my brothers for laughs. What did we win? I don’t really know. The ambiguous goal always relates to these dangerous creatures being dragged down via attrition and then banished into the secondary portals. I still don’t dare to get near. However, after several rearrangements of my gear outside the void, I did take occasional shots at the enemy.

  It’s a tremendously good exercise for Ha’koff as well. He’s learned all about the whispering songs, the danger that the portals lead to, and plenty of other new things. However, I always hold him back from the mindless charge into the fold that the other brothers embrace. The whispering songs are wildly effective on him and he rages to join, but it’s so much safer to only hide and observe for now. On the plus side, staying out of the way while sneakily sniping provides incredibly good practice.

  This Covering song is incredibly useful with Ha’koff in tow. In its earliest form, I can disguise him as a scraggly patch of dirt or a funny looking, big rock. It’s not much, but the wild creatures out there are anything but discerning. Well, that and they’re far more distracted by the ten to twenty thousand or so other brothers maliciously stampeding straight at them.

  Each new environment poses the ever present challenge of securing Ha’koff to a tree or other similar fixture, scouting ahead for a secure spot to camp, and then clandestinely settling in to participate. Obviously stealthiness is key on such a mission, but it also provides the perfect opportunity to hone my body and senses. Even my precious cartography comes into play as I plot around the throngs of brothers and plot my way back to my treasured teammate.

  Every fresh cycle feels as if I’m becoming a more and more practiced warrior. Scampering up into the trees is so effortless now. Even silently jumping between the distant branches is trivial. I’m not the tiny, fragile goblin that I used to be. Let it be known that I’m now the tiny, rugged champion of all goblinkind.

  In the downtime between dangerous voyages, I finally get around to fixing all my treasures. I even created new leathers from scratch for Ha’koff! It took a surprising amount of time and effort. However, it’s one less thing to worry about, given all the random odds and ends flying around during the battles. Even if it only saves a single return trip carrying him on my back to the pits, it’ll be worth it. It’s too bad that I can’t just shove him into a pocket.

  After intensive mixing, the cycles typically end with me sitting for prolonged communion with the slime in my head. It’s strange, he still manages to play the role of teacher even after merging with my skull. Maybe being closer to my brain helps? Regardless, regularly tangling with his tethers builds up my solidness, sensitivity, and ability to rapidly reshape my own in response to his playful motions.

  It’s a small miracle that these can still be practiced out in the void, given my spacial magic’s complete blockage. Yes, there’s the occasional spacial manipulation during the trips, but that’s not exactly disciplined practice. Occasionally rifling through my pockets before urgently fleeing barely counts at all. Therefore, the slime’s availability as a treasured instructor once again is invaluable. It’s time to finally accept that it’s not simply some hostile foreign parasite snacking on my brain. It’s a true and trustworthy addition to the team.

  On the other hand, Ha’koff is a disappointment. Whenever he’s not under the control of the whispering song, he does cower slightly less. That’s a win for certain. However, he hasn’t learned even one song! I don’t understand the issue. More often than not, showing him a flame or lightly poking at him with a dagger only terrifies him back into that annoying fugue state, falling flat on his back and frothing at the mouth. Even when I give him a weapon of his own!

  I’ve had to rebury him a few times after grievous injuries during the hunts. It’s annoying carrying him all the way back. I also get so many weird, judgemental stares from the brothers. However, it’s worth it. It has to be! He must remain a second mud. Any more, and this novel experiment will be invalidated.

  Maybe I can catch another first mud, but how often does that event happen? I’ve no idea. Besides, the dour, permanently melancholic little one grew on me, much as the slime did too. I can’t cast him aside simply because he’s become somewhat of a burden. I’m responsible for everything that he’s become, after all.

  Yes, yes, the team’s been formed. It’s official. We can’t change it again without a very, very good reason. For example, what if I find an even bigger, dirtier slime? No, no, it’s official.

  On the next outing, maybe I’ll switch over to a spear. Perhaps Ha’koff can be coaxed into using the bow? There’s no way that I’ll allow him near those enormous creatures while that hypnotic song’s playing. Maybe we’ll even find the opportunity to spy through the second portal to see what’s on the other side?