The world is large, larger than anyone can imagine, larger than our small brains can comprehend. Yet, in this vastness, we can't see beyond the lands that have trapped us. Monsters roam freely outside the walls, and we remain prisoners within them.
In this world, everyone has a dream they desire, hope for, something they can feel, something that brings peace and freedom. But can everyone achieve that dream? Can everyone truly taste it?
"Yawn!"
Yalamber woke from bed and stared at the cracked wooden ceiling. Spider webs clung to the corners, and droplets of water slipped through the holes, falling onto his face.
"Ahh… so hard to sleep," he muttered.
He lay on a wooden bed, without a pillow or blanket, his clothes soaked from the rain
. "Dammit!"
Seventeen years old, yet he had nothing—no family, no friends, nothing.
He got up, stepping onto the wet floor, and reached into his pocket. Two coins. Twenty Yang each. He placed them back on the bed and turned toward the doorway.There was no door.
Outside, sunlight touched the village. People were already awake, moving, preparing for another day of survival.
Nothing had changed.
Clothes hung in tatters. Some walked barefoot. Dust clung to skin like it belonged there.
Yet they laughed.
Men joked about being eaten by monsters and demons. Women chased their children. Faces were tired, but their eyes… their eyes held hope.
Yalamber didn't understand it.
Everyone knew their end would come. Their lives had no real meaning. So why struggle? Why not just lie down and let hunger finish the job? Why fight to live another useless day?
Was it hope?
Was it human instinct?
What was it?
Do I have hope? Do I have a dream? Or am I the only one who has accepted the reality that others refuse to see?
His heart beat rapidly as an old man approached.
"Let's go, son. We have to get to the mine before it's too late."
He handed Yalamber a slice of bread. The man was the village head, Gaku Mappa, a long scar running across his cheek.
"Thanks," Yalamber said quietly.
Around fifty villagers began moving toward the mine, a thirty-minute walk away. Murmurs spread through the crowd.
"Did you know the crystals we mine are worth over 100,000 Yang? One day, I'll take some and leave this place."
Yalamber said nothing.
Suddenly, the head shouted, "Everyone, to the side of the road! On your knees!"
Confusion spread.
"Why? What happened?" someone asked.
"Just do it!"
The villagers obeyed, but Yalamber remained standing.
"What are you doing, Yalamber? Kneel," the head demanded.
Yalamber stayed silent, staring at him.
"Don't you want to survive?" the head added.
As the smooth rumble of a golden buggy approached, Yalamber finally knelt.
The buggy stopped. The driver leaned forward, voice sharp.
"Are you the miners?"
"Yes, these are the miners, and I am their head," Gaku Mappa replied.
"Good." The driver gestured to the passenger. "This gentleman owns the mine. He's here to appreciate your work and inspect the site."
"We are pleased," the head said.
The passenger smiled at them.
"Move," the driver ordered, and the buggy rolled forward.
Whispers broke out behind them.
"Who was that guy?" one villager asked.
"One of the Gifters," the old man replied.
"Seriously?" Misha said.
"Bastards," Kappa spat. "Why do they get power? They make us their slaves and destroy our lives."
"He even smiled," Sammy added. "After everything, he dares to smile at us. Does he think we're pets?"
"Enough!" the head snapped. "Only the chosen receive power. Anger won't change that."
"So he is special, and we are worthless—born to live lifeless lives. I don't accept it," Kappa shouted.
"We can do nothing," the head said calmly. "Let's move. We're late."
The owner of the buggy heard Kappa shouting and turned back briefly.
Yalamber's mind raced with questions.
By the time they reached the mine, the golden buggy was parked outside, the driver resting. Villagers admired its beauty, but the head urged them inside.
Everyone moved—except Yalamber.
He kept staring.
The driver opened one eye. "What are you doing, kid?"
Startled, Yalamber bowed slightly. "Oh, sorry. It's nothing."
The driver laughed. "I know it's beautiful. Something you'll never own."
"No… it just feels familiar," Yalamber murmured.
"You must have dreamed it, kid," the driver mocked.
Yalamber clenched his fists.
"Yalamber!" the head shouted. "Come fast!"
He kept staring at the buggy.
"YALAMBER!"
Yalamber grew dark, bowed his head, and started moving toward the mine.
"I saw you back there, kid," the driver called after him.
Yalamber remained silent, moving forward.
"Sorry," he muttered as he entered the mine.
"Huff… this boy," the head muttered.
He approached the driver. "Was there a problem?"
"It's fine. Just keep your people in line."
"…I will," the head said.
The driver waved him off.
The head moved toward a large tree for shade.
Hmm… this kid. Something isn't right, the driver thought.