Emrah woke to silence.
Not the comforting kind, but the unnatural stillness that came after exhaustion so deep it erased dreams. His body felt heavy, as if gravity itself had doubled while he slept. For several long seconds, he simply stared at the ceiling of his room, breathing slowly, letting sensation return to his limbs.
Fragments of the night before surfaced—fire, wings burning, a blade splitting divine flesh, a white void beyond time.
He pushed himself up slightly, a hand pressed to his forehead.
"…Did I pass out?"
The question barely left his lips when the air in front of him rippled.
A familiar blue interface unfolded before his eyes, far more expansive than usual. It wasn't a notification or a warning.
It was a profile.
Lines of information stacked neatly, precise and merciless in their clarity.
Name: Emrah Aybeyli
Designation: Subject Infinity
Status: Alive
Synchronization: Stable
Stratum:9
Emrah's breath caught.
"…Stratum nine?"
His eyes locked onto the number beside his name as if staring harder might make it change.
"System," he said slowly, carefully. "What is this number next to my name?"
The system responded instantly, its tone neutral as ever.
[Explanation:]
Until now, Subject Infinity has been operating without strict limitation. This was a controlled exception.
Emrah frowned.
"A controlled exception?"
[Explanation:]
The God of Time temporarily removed your constraints in order to evaluate your true aptitude, adaptability, and subconscious potential.
Memories of the battlefield flooded back—the way time had bent around him, the fire that had answered his thoughts before he even understood what he was doing.
His jaw tightened.
"So… that wasn't my normal state."
[Confirmation:]
Correct.
The interface shifted. Several sections dimmed, grayed out, as if doors were quietly closing.
[Update:]
Your power has now been reset to Stratum 9.
From this point forward, you may only access abilities permitted to a Stratum 9 user.
For the first time since receiving the system, Emrah felt something close to unease.
"…How many stratums are there?"
There was a brief pause—so short it was almost imperceptible, yet deliberate.
[Answer:]
There are nine standard stratums.
Emrah exhaled slowly. "That means I'm at the highest one, right?"
[Correction:]
There exists a tenth stratum.
The words appeared larger than the rest, heavier somehow.
[Designation:]
Infinite Stratum.
The room felt colder.
Emrah leaned back against the headboard, eyes never leaving the glowing words.
"…Let me guess," he said quietly. "The lower the number, the higher the power."
[Confirmation:]
Yes.
Silence stretched.
Stratum 9.
Not weak. Not ordinary. But no longer untouchable. No longer unbound.
The fire he had wielded so effortlessly—gone, sealed behind a door he didn't yet know how to open. The time-freezing that had once bent reality—restricted. Controlled.
Measured.
Yet one thought refused to leave him.
The God of Time hadn't taken anything from him.
He had simply shown Emrah what he could become.
Emrah closed his eyes, a faint, tired smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"…Infinite Stratum," he murmured.
For the first time since this journey began, the path ahead wasn't about gaining power.
It was about earning it.
The interface shifted again, reacting to his lingering attention.
New lines of text appeared, this time framed in cautionary amber.
[System Notice:]
Subject Infinity was exceptionally fortunate during the Trial Period.
Emrah narrowed his eyes. "Fortunate how?"
[Explanation:]
You successfully bonded with four Infinity-class weapons while your system operated without enforced limits.
His fingers curled slightly against the bedsheet.
[Continuation:]
Under normal conditions, contract initiation with an Infinity Weapon places catastrophic strain on the body and soul.
At Stratum 9, further bonding is impossible.
"…Impossible?" Emrah repeated.
[Confirmation:]
Your current physical and metaphysical structure would not survive another contract initiation phase.
Attempting to bond with an additional Infinity Weapon would result in systemic collapse.
So that was it.
The door wasn't merely closed—it had been sealed until he climbed higher… or rather, lower.
"Until I reach a lower stratum," Emrah muttered.
[Affirmative.]
He exhaled through his nose, then opened the system's Information Tab again, this time with intent.
The page reorganized itself, presenting his abilities with ruthless clarity.
Base Abilities — Active
Future Vision
Future Dream
Time Manipulation:60 seconds maximum
Emrah stared at the time limit.
Sixty seconds.
Once, he could freeze entire moments, stretch them into eternities. Now—one minute. Enough to survive. Enough to act.
Not enough to dominate.
He shifted tabs.
Paired Weapons & Items
His gaze sharpened as the list expanded.
Infinity Blade — Legendary Grade
Infinity Gun — Legendary Grade
Infinity Vehicle (Bugatti Tourbillon) — Epic Grade Item
He nodded faintly. That much felt… right.
Then his eyes dropped to the final entry.
Infinity Watch — Mythic Grade Weapon
Emrah froze.
"…Mythic?"
The word carried weight even the system didn't try to soften.
A sub-panel unfolded beneath it.
[Description:]
Mythic-grade Infinity Weapons exist outside standard system constraints.
This weapon is capable of partially restoring restricted abilities previously accessible during your limitless state.
A quiet breath left him—slow, steady, real.
So that was why.
The watch wasn't just reacting to him.
It had been protecting him.
Not fully. Not recklessly. But enough.
Enough that his enemies couldn't simply erase him.
Enough that his family wouldn't be left defenseless.
For the first time since waking, the tension in his shoulders eased.
"…Good," he murmured.
He returned to the main information page, scrolling further down.
A new entry glowed faintly, as if recently engraved into reality itself.
New Ability Acquired
Hellfire
His expression darkened.
Memories of burning wings and blackened divine flesh surfaced uninvited.
He didn't click it.
Not yet.
Instead, his eyes drifted lower.
Passive Abilities
Immortality
That one, he opened.
The description appeared—short, precise, absolute.
[Passive Description:]
Immune to all poisons
Does not age
Cannot die from illness or sickness
Emrah stared at the words for a long time.
Immortal.
Not invincible.
Not untouchable.
But time itself could no longer claim him.
"…So this is what I am now," he whispered.
Stratum 9.
Restricted.
Measured.
Yet armed with Mythic leverage, legendary weapons, and a fire born not from the system—but from him.
He leaned back against the bed, closing his eyes.
The game had changed.
And for the first time, Emrah understood the truth beneath it all:
The system wasn't raising him to godhood.
It was seeing whether he could walk toward it without breaking.
Just as Emrah allowed himself to sink back into the mattress, the room filled with a sharp vibration.
His phone.
He frowned, reached for it, and the name on the screen pulled him fully awake.
Dr. Kerem Yalçın.
Emrah answered instantly.
"Kerem?"
"Where have you been?" Kerem's voice burst through the line, breathless and strained. "I've been trying to reach you since last night."
"I was asleep," Emrah said, rubbing his temple. "What happened?"
There was a pause—just long enough for anticipation to settle.
"I did it," Kerem said quietly. Then, louder, unable to contain himself, "I finally did it."
Emrah straightened. "Did what?"
"I replicated the chocolate."
Silence followed.
Kerem continued, words tumbling over each other now. "Not exactly as a solid—yet. It's in serum form. Stable. Identical effects. I can mix it with processed cacao and you'll have the Chocolate Serum."
Emrah's grip tightened around the phone.
"…Are you certain?"
"I wouldn't call you if I wasn't," Kerem replied. "You need to get here. As soon as possible."
The line went dead.
Emrah stared at the screen for a moment, then exhaled slowly.
"So it begins," he murmured.
He moved on instinct—shower, clothes, keys. It felt strange, preparing for something as ordinary as work after everything he had seen, everything he had survived.
As he stepped outside, sunlight cut across the driveway, sharp and real.
"It's been a while," he said to himself as he got into the car. "Back to the university."
The engine came to life, and Emrah drove off toward the other side of the city—toward research halls, sterile labs, and a discovery that could rewrite the rules of power itself.
Across the city, in a place far removed from lecture halls and ethics committees, Adem Yesari adjusted his coat in front of a darkened mirror.
His movements were precise. Unhurried.
Calculated.
He checked his reflection once more, eyes cold with intent, then reached for his briefcase.
Today wasn't about experiments.
Today was about initiation.
The first phase of his plan was ready to begin.
A plan so meticulously cruel, so deeply rooted in control and inevitability, that if the world had any sense at all—
It would have already begun to tremble.