The wind howled like a beast clawing at the sky, sending a shiver through Omar's bones as he trudged through the thick blanket of snow that stretched out in all directions. His breath clouded in the frigid air, and each step felt like a battle against the unforgiving cold. The mountains loomed around him, towering like silent giants, their snow-capped peaks hidden behind dark clouds. The sound of the wind was the only thing that broke the silence, a constant reminder that the wilderness was as inhospitable as it was beautiful.
It was a cruel irony that the place Omar had chosen to hide, to build his sanctuary, was the same place that had been deemed uninhabitable by the rest of the world. Alaska. The Great Awakening had brought forth untold changes, and humanity had been forced to adapt. Towers pierced the sky, magic surged through the air, and monstrous beasts roamed the earth. But here, in the middle of nowhere, there was only snow. And Omar was the only one who knew the truth about this place—the hidden power it held.
His footsteps crunched in the snow, the weight of the journey pressing down on him. The Master of Production class that had chosen him wasn't a gift. It was a curse. While others awakened to combat classes, healing classes, and support classes, Omar had been burdened with the power to create. To produce, to forge, to build. And worst of all, it came with the ability to generate infinite resources.
He had come to realize just how dangerous that power was.
"Damn it…" Omar muttered, looking around at the snow-covered trees and the winds that howled through the branches. "I really need to upgrade these damn golems." His voice was quiet, but the frustration was clear. Behind him, the large stone golem lumbered, its enormous sword cutting through the air as it swung, aiming at a tree that had caught its attention. The tree splintered under the force, but the golem's movements were clumsy. Omar shook his head, sighing.
It wasn't the golem's fault. It was his. He had designed the golem himself, after all, with the limited knowledge he had. But sometimes, the lack of sophistication in his creations frustrated him. Every time a new golem lumbered out of the workshop, Omar couldn't help but feel like it was just a slightly better version of the first. Still, it did the job. The golems were his only help in this frozen wasteland, where the weather would tear apart any human who dared to venture in.
He glanced down at the holographic screen that flickered to life in front of him, the interface only visible to him. The light from the display illuminated his face as he pulled up the status of his golem army. He tapped a few keys, eyes scanning the data.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION:
Welcome back, Master of Production.
Your inventory has been updated.
You have 4,000,000 Gold Coins.
Would you like to spend them now?
Omar gritted his teeth. The system. It was both a blessing and a burden. When the Great Awakening had struck, everyone had awakened to the system. But Omar, the only one in the world, had been granted the rareMaster of Production class. The system didn't just give him abilities—it gave him access to a bank account that was infinite. If he wanted a house, it was there. If he needed weapons, they were in his inventory. If he needed resources? It was all at his fingertips.
But no one else knew.
No one could know.
He dismissed the screen with a flick of his fingers, the interface vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. The temptation to use the wealth at his disposal was always there, always gnawing at him. But he had learned the hard way that revealing his powers would only lead to disaster.
He couldn't risk the world knowing. And so, he did what any person with infinite resources would do: he built.
The domain—his sanctuary, his hidden city—had taken years to construct. It was hidden deep within the mountains, shielded by the very storm that raged around him. Only one path led to the heart of it, and that path was treacherous. If anyone ever tried to follow him, they'd be swallowed by the snowstorm before they even got close. Omar had designed the path himself, using his system to control the environment and ensure that only those he allowed could reach the heart of his domain.
As he climbed a steep incline, the stone walls of the mountain beginning to press in on him, Omar's mind wandered back to how it had all started.
The Gamble.
Omar had always been an orphan. No parents. No family. Just him and the streets. He learned quickly that in the world of the weak, the only way to survive was to be stronger than the rest. And then, the world had changed.
It had come without warning. The Great Awakening. One moment, life had been mundane—nothing but a struggle for survival in a world that didn't care. The next moment, everyone had awakened to a system. The game-like interface had appeared before everyone, and with it, the power to level up, to gain new abilities, to grow stronger.
Omar had been no different, at least at first. But then he had gotten a gift.
A system with infinite resources.
He had thought it was a joke. A fluke. But when he realized the full extent of what the system had given him, he knew he had to act fast. A chance opportunity—an unlikely gamble—had led him to win 500 acres of land in the most isolated part of Alaska. At first, it had seemed like a curse. But with the system's help, he turned that barren wasteland into a sanctuary.
And now, here he was.
He finally reached the entrance to his domain. The hidden gates, designed to blend into the surroundings, were nestled into the stone. With a single tap on his wrist, the gate slid open, revealing the warm interior of his city.
Inside, the temperature was always comfortable, regulated by a complex network of enchanted golems that kept the massive space warm. The city was far from perfect, but it was his. It was the only place he felt truly free.
His golems moved efficiently, performing their tasks without a word. Their stony faces were expressionless, their movements mechanical, but Omar had grown fond of them. They were his creations, and they were the only ones who knew the full extent of his power—if only because they had been born from it.
But for all the resources he had, for all the wealth he could access with a mere thought, the loneliness was still there. The emptiness.
The golems were not enough. Omar needed something else.