Bron stood outside the hospital, discharge papers in hand, squinting against the morning sun. The city of New Newark bustled around him—fortified buses transporting workers, Hunters in their distinctive gear striding with purpose, street vendors hawking supposedly Gate-enhanced foods.
The world looked the same, but Bron's perception of it had fundamentally changed. He could feel the materials around him in ways he never could before—the steel in the building supports, the various alloys in passing vehicles, even the trace minerals in the concrete beneath his feet.
"Material Insight," he whispered, recalling his newfound skill. He focused on a nearby bench, and immediately information flooded his mind:
[Standard Municipal Bench] [Materials: Recycled Aluminum Alloy (68%), Carbon Fiber (24%), Monster-derived Resin (8%)] [Durability: High] [Special Properties: Minor impact resistance, weather-resistant coating] [Crafting Difficulty: Low]
Bron shook his head in amazement. The level of detail was incredible. He'd spent years learning to identify valuable Gate materials, but this instant analysis surpassed anything he could have achieved through experience alone.
He hailed an autocab and directed it to his apartment building in the eastern district—a modest complex that housed mainly unawakened service workers. During the ride, he mentally organized his next steps. The hospital bill had been covered by his mining contractor's insurance, thankfully, but he had bigger concerns now.
His status as an SSS-rank Awakened would make him an immediate target if discovered—for recruitment, research, exploitation, or worse. The Association, the government, the major guilds—all would see him as an asset to be controlled. His parents had been low-ranked but had still been essentially conscripted during the Newark Breach. Someone of his potential rank would never be allowed true freedom.
No, he needed to establish himself first. Build a foundation. Gain strength and connections before revealing his true capabilities.
His apartment was exactly as he'd left it—small, sparsely furnished, but clean. Bron moved immediately to his computer, searching real estate listings in the commercial district. If he was going to be a blacksmith, he needed a proper forge.
"Computer, show me commercial properties with industrial zoning, preferably with existing forge facilities," he instructed.
Most results were far beyond his means, but one listing caught his eye—a former Hunter equipment repair shop on the edge of the Safe Zone, just three blocks from the commercial district's border with the Buffer Zone. The previous owner had died during a Gate breach, and the property had remained vacant for months.
The location wasn't ideal—too close to the Buffer Zone for most businesses to risk investment—but it had a reinforced structure, dedicated power lines, and most importantly, a small but functional forge setup. The price, while still steep, was within reach if he liquidated everything he owned.
Bron didn't hesitate. He called the listed agent, arranged a viewing for that afternoon, and began packing his essential belongings.
"As you can see, the main workshop area is quite spacious," the real estate agent explained, gesturing around the dusty interior. "The reinforced walls meet Association standards for Buffer Zone proximity, and the emergency shelter in the basement exceeds code requirements."
Bron barely heard her as he examined the forge setup. It was basic but well-maintained—a propane-powered furnace with electric backup generators, an anvil that had seen better days but was still functional, a modest quenching tank, and a small collection of hammers and tongs hanging on the wall.
But what interested him most was what he sensed beneath the surface—the foundation stones contained traces of monster materials, likely incorporated during rebuilding after a previous breach. This place had absorbed ambient Gate energy for years. Perfect for his purposes.
"What about living quarters?" Bron asked, already decided but unwilling to appear too eager.
The agent looked surprised. "You're planning to live on-site? Well, there's a small apartment upstairs—just one room with a bathroom and kitchenette. The previous owner sometimes stayed overnight during busy periods. It's not exactly comfortable..."
"It'll do," Bron stated. "I'll take it."
The agent's eyebrows rose. "Don't you want to negotiate the—"
"I accept the listed price," Bron interrupted. "I can transfer a deposit today and complete the sale by the end of the week."
After the surprised agent left to prepare the paperwork, Bron stood alone in what would soon be his forge. He approached the anvil, running his hand over its scarred surface.
[Standard Hunter-Grade Anvil] [Materials: Industrial Steel (92%), Trace Monster Iron (8%)] [Durability: Good, minor structural fatigue at corners] [Special Properties: Slight energy conductivity from monster iron content] [Crafting Quality: C-Rank]
This was just the beginning. With his abilities, he could create so much more. He activated his status panel with a thought, confirming that nothing had changed since his awakening in the hospital. Still level 1, still with basic skills.
"I need to level up," he murmured. According to everything he'd heard about class progression, crafting items related to his class would grant him experience, eventually leading to level increases and new abilities.
Closing his eyes, Bron placed both hands on the anvil and concentrated, trying to connect with his new class identity. What did it mean to be a Sovereign Forge Master? What did the "sovereign" part signify?
A warmth spread from his chest—from the embedded shard—down his arms to his fingertips. When he opened his eyes, his hands were glowing with a faint crimson light. The anvil beneath them seemed to respond, its surface briefly rippling like liquid before settling back into solid form.
[New Skill Unlocked: Forge Dominion (Active) Lvl 1] [Description: Exert control over forge equipment and materials, enhancing their capabilities temporarily] [Mana Cost: 10 per minute]
Bron smiled. This was just the first step on a long journey.
The next week passed in a blur of paperwork, moving, and preparations. Bron sold his apartment, liquidated his modest savings, sold most of his possessions, and channeled everything into securing the property and purchasing initial supplies.
When he finally closed the door behind the last delivery—basic metals, tools, and a few rare materials he'd kept from previous mining expeditions—Bron stood in his new forge and took a deep breath. The small living space upstairs was barely furnished, with just a mattress on the floor, a small refrigerator, and a few essential items. But that didn't matter. What mattered was here, in this workshop, where he would build his future.
He'd kept his Awakening secret through the required Association check-up, using careful timing of his mana usage to ensure no readings appeared on their instruments. The doctor had declared the shard "fully inert" and reduced his check-ups to monthly intervals.
Now it was time to begin in earnest.
Bron lit the forge, watching as the flames built to a proper heat. He selected a piece of standard steel—nothing special, just something to practice with. As the metal began to glow red in the fire, he activated his Forge Dominion skill, feeling the connection form between himself, the forge, and the metal.
The flames intensified, taking on a reddish hue that matched the glow from his hands. The steel reached proper temperature in half the expected time.
Bron worked methodically, hammering the metal, folding it, reheating it. His movements were those of an amateur—he had observed blacksmiths in mining communities but had never actually forged anything himself—yet his class abilities guided his hands.
Hours passed unnoticed as he worked, lost in the rhythm of the forge. When he finally quenched the finished piece in the tank, steam rising around him, Bron examined what he'd created.
It was a simple hunting knife—nothing ornate or complex for his first attempt. But even to his untrained eye, it was flawless. Perfect balance, edge alignment, and temper.
[Hunting Knife (Apprentice Work)] [Materials: Standard Steel] [Durability: Excellent] [Sharpness: High] [Special Properties: None] [Crafting Quality: B-Rank]
Bron stared in surprise. B-Rank quality on his first attempt, using basic materials and novice techniques? Most Awakened crafters took years to achieve such results.
A notification appeared in his vision:
[Experience Gained: 45] [Progress to Level 2: 45/100]
His tired face broke into a smile. This was just the beginning. Tomorrow, he would create a sign for his new business. A name that wouldn't attract too much attention, but would still honor what he had become.
"Black's Forge," he decided, testing the name aloud. Simple. Unassuming. Perfect for staying under the radar while he built his skills and reputation.
He placed the knife on a workbench and climbed the stairs to his sparse living quarters. Despite the hard mattress on the floor and the distant sounds of the Buffer Zone warning system, Bron slept better than he had in years.
He was, at last, forging his own destiny.