The day began like any other.
The sun was out. People were going to work.
But EMİRHAN... was still ignored. Still forgotten. Still jobless.
He had built dozens of projects in his lifetime—
A jet resembling the Su-57, unmanned drones, devices inspired by sci-fi games.
All created with his bare hands.
But no company ever listened.
No institution ever opened a door for him.
To the world, he was nobody.
"I f*cking hate these people…"
"The scumbags always win…"
His rage had reached its peak.
He walked, lost in thought, spiraling deeper and deeper into darkness.
He didn't even see the truck.
A crash.
Then—darkness.
Nothingness.
Silence.
Then a voice echoed:
System initialized. Welcome, Commander.
His eyes flew open.
A white ceiling.
On the walls:
Posters of TAF, SAT, SAS, Su-57, F-22, Typhoon, Delta Force, GIGN, Spetsnaz…
A single bed—clean, military-like.
An old desk with a dusty laptop.
His high school phone beside it.
It was… his old room.
And this body… was sixteen again.
He rushed to the mirror.
The boy in the reflection—was him.
"This… This is my room."
"I'm… back?"
A digital screen appeared:
Main Mission: Build the technology of your dreams. Resources will be provided.
Side Mission: Form loyal forces. Remain hidden.
New missions will unlock.
🔧 Production Menu Opened
[Workshop Setup] – Cost: 10,000 Resource Points
[Loyal Unit – Tier 1] – Cost: 5,000 Resource Points
Current RP: 50,000
Emirhan took a deep breath.
Then smiled.
"This time… I build. I command."
"And this time… I'll be the world's worst nightmare
Looks like... I really did come back."
Emirhan took a deep breath, staring up at the bright white ceiling of his room.
"And this system... maybe I really got lucky."
The room was quiet—too quiet.
Normally, his family was noisy, always arguing or watching something loudly.
Silence meant one thing: they weren't home.
"Perfect. I'm alone."
His eyes scanned the room: his bag, his phone, the posters on the wall—everything was in place.
School would start in about a week. 11th grade.
But school didn't matter right now.
What mattered… was understanding the system.
"System, show me your functions."
A voice responded instantly:
Greetings, Commander.
My functions include instant facility deployment, advanced workshop creation, and industrial-level technology replication.
I can reproduce complex machinery based on existing real-world technologies or pre-loaded templates.
All processes require Resource Points (RP).
My strongest feature is the Organization System.
You can build custom scenarios, establish covert factions, and operate black ops missions.
To clarify: a facility like Black Mesa from Half-Life can be recreated in the real world.
Estimated cost: 150,000 – 200,000 RP.
Emirhan's eyes lit up.
Additionally, many advanced technologies from games are available as blueprints.
But turning them into reality is up to you.
To earn RP:
Present your inventions to the world or make sales. Establish a covert organization and build its reputation. Complete secret missions. Earn RP per elimination.
Emirhan smirked.
"So this system isn't just about building…
It wants me to play the game."
Emirhan grabbed the house keys and stuffed all his tools and gear into a single heavy bag.
He stepped outside and looked at the Nissan Qashqai—the family car.
"I don't have a driver's license… but my dad's a cop. There are perks."
Some time ago, his father had installed a police surveillance app on his own phone.
If Emirhan remembered right, he had cloned that app to his own device.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the folders.
Yes. It was still there.
"Perfect. Let's roll."
He pressed Start on the dashboard. The engine purred to life.
The car eased onto the road.
"80 kilometers per hour. That's average danger level on Turkish roads…
One pothole, and I might take off with the car."
The city faded in the rearview mirror.
For almost two hours, he drove nonstop, finally turning onto an unmarked dirt path off the highway.
Trees thickened. The terrain roughened.
Eventually, he brought the car to a stop.
He grabbed his bag, stepped out, and continued on foot.
The forest thinned slightly. He found a clearing—grassy, dry, and surrounded by old, twisted trees.
"This... This is the perfect spot."
He opened the system interface.
"System. I want to construct a workshop and base at this location.
Underground if possible."
The system scanned for a few seconds.
Then a soft tone confirmed his request.
Valid location confirmed.
Underground base construction initiated.
The ground trembled softly.
A low mechanical hum came from deep below.
In front of him, a holographic interface appeared, showing a 3D layout of the base.
The design was massive:
Hydraulic Blast Door Hidden Beneath GroundPersonal Recreation & Living QuartersEnergy Core and Backup ReactorAdvanced Workshop Facility: CNC mills, laser cutters, autonomous arms, industrial-grade 3D printers Command Center: A massive system of 24+ monitors and one ultra-wide master screen Living Suites: Sleeping pods, private bathroom, kitchenette Weapons Testing Zone: Firing tunnels, target drones, armored training halls
Emirhan stood there, stunned.
He took a few steps back. Then forward again. He couldn't take his eyes off the display.
His heart was racing.
"I think… I just fell in love with a
A circular, nearly invisible metal hatch opened silently in the middle of the grassy field.
From below, a lift platform rose—cold, clean, and quiet.
Emirhan slung the heavy bag over his shoulder and stepped in.
The elevator began to descend into the darkness.
Soft lights flickered on along the walls.
Blue neon lines pulsed faintly with each passing meter.
"This place... is my kingdom."
The platform came to a smooth stop.
The doors slid open.
Emirhan's eyes widened.
In front of him stood a vast underground base, alive with light and humming with quiet energy.
The corridor stretched out before him.
To his left: embedded data panels and glowing readouts.
To the right: a clear glass wall revealing massive machines behind it.
Every step echoed on the metal floor like a countdown to destiny.
He entered the command center first.
"Twenty-four monitors... and a giant master screen above. Tactical maps, security feeds, production stats…"
He sat in the chair.
Took a deep breath.
Everything was at his fingertips.
Next: the manufacturing zone.
As the door opened, warm air hit him—thick with the scent of oil and precision.
Autonomous robotic arms hung from rails, motionless but waiting.
To one side, laser cutting stations hummed faintly.
To the other, heavy-duty 3D printer turrets lined up like artillery.
CNC machines rested in silence, like sleeping titans ready for war.
"I'll build missiles here…
Drones. Weapons. Maybe even tanks."
He moved on.
The living quarters.
A private suite—soundproof, insulated.
Inside: a bed, a desk, a personal shower, a smart wall-screen window.
On the wall, a glowing inscription:
Owner: Emirhan – System Role: Commander
He stared at the room for a moment.
Then kept walking.
His final stop: the testing range.
An underground firing tunnel.
Moving targets. Automated turrets. Reinforced panels.
"This base... isn't just a facility.
It's a world I control.
And this time... I'm going to become the nightmare this world deserves
Enough dreaming... It's time to build."
Emirhan stepped into the heart of the workshop.
He dropped his gear bag onto the floor and scanned his surroundings.
Step one: the body.
He looked around and spotted a set of 50-kilogram steel blocks stacked against the far wall.
Raw, industrial, untouched metal.
"Not ideal... but I can work with this."
He headed straight for the nearest CNC machine and activated the design interface.
His fingers moved fast—precise, confident.
He modeled the missile body from scratch, carving in internal servo compartments for directional control.
If done right, the servos would allow in-flight adjustments — small, rapid course changes.
With the design finalized, the CNC started its job.
Sparks flew. Metal screamed under the blade.
Within minutes, the rough shell of KARTAL-3ML took shape.
Next: target detection and guidance.
He grabbed his Arduino components from the nearby crate.
Wires, sensors, a basic camera module — quickly soldered and connected.
He pulled up the coding panel and began writing.
Line by line, he shaped the missile's "brain."
A simple yet effective target recognition and lock-on AI.
"This little piece of silicon... will decide who lives and dies."
He moved to the glass fabrication unit and created a rounded, transparent nose cap.
Inside it, he mounted a laser tracking sensor, and fixed the whole assembly onto the missile's tip.
Then, for more advanced tracking, he set up a second Arduino board — this one dedicated to coordinating the servos and flight corrections.
"Now... the core. The fuel and engine."
He entered the chemistry section of the lab.
Measuring, mixing, balancing — he prepared a batch of solid rocket fuel using what he had on hand.
Once done, he set it aside to dry.
With the fuel curing, he focused on the engine assembly.
KARTAL-3ML would have a 4-nozzle directional thruster:
Left, right, top, bottom.
Each nozzle linked to a servo, capable of delivering precise mid-air adjustments.
Hours passed.
And when the work was done, it stood there on the table:
KARTAL-3ML —
a sleek, lethal, hand-built ATGM prototype.
"This isn't just a missile.
This… is the beginning of something far greater."
Deep inside the underground base, the massive test chamber doors slid open with a mechanical groan.
Emirhan stood at the launch control console — surrounded by monitors, buttons, and safety locks.
Suspended from a ceiling rail, KARTAL-3ML was carefully lowered onto its launch ramp.
Its glass nose glowed faintly, scanning the surroundings.
"System, generate target."
Across the room, a heavily armored target unit rose from the floor.
Robotic arms bolted thick steel plates onto its frame.
TARGET TYPE: ARMORED VEHICLE (STATIC)
DISTANCE: 430 meters
ELEVATION: 12°
Emirhan approached the terminal.
KARTAL-3ML systems came online.
Laser tracking, servo stabilization, AI guidance — all blinking, all active.
The targeting HUD flashed:
TARGET ACQUIRED – LOCKING...
The missile trembled softly.
The laser fixed on the target.
Then—
LOCK COMPLETE. READY TO FIRE.
He placed his hand on the launch button.
Paused for a moment.
Took a breath.
"Let's begin…"
FIRE!
KARTAL-3ML launched like a bolt of light.
Its engine roared to life, flame trailing behind.
In just over a second, it reached the target.
And then—
BOOM!
The steel plates exploded apart.
Fragments flew in every direction.
Smoke filled the air. Echoes bounced across the chamber.
On the screen:
TARGET DESTROYED.
MISSION COMPLETE.
Emirhan didn't speak.
He slowly pulled his hands away from the console.
And smiled.
"This... is just the beginning
KARTAL-3ML had passed its test with flying colors.
Emirhan sat quietly in the control room, the words "MISSION SUCCESSFUL" still glowing on the screen.
He exhaled slowly.
"This isn't just my project anymore.
It's a system… and systems need structure."
He launched the terminal and began preparing for patent submission.
He downloaded all relevant data:
Body design schematics Servo mount architecture Laser tracking circuits Arduino source code Fuel composition and safe-production protocol
All of it compiled into a secured PDF dossier.
The system helped package it into a formal project document—ready for submission to the Turkish Patent Institute.
"But before that… I need a company."
He opened the registration module.
Entered the name:
GÖK YILDIZI TECHNOLOGIES INC.
Sector: Defense, autonomous systems, aerospace, AI-driven targeting.
The system confirmed.
His company was now formally established within the system — and all real-world documents were ready to be downloaded and submitted.
"I'm no longer just a builder...
I'm now the CEO of a defense firm."
Just then, the system pinged:
Detected: KARTAL-3ML production method.
Resources available: 5 units remaining.
Commence automated production?
Emirhan tapped Yes.
The workshop came alive.
Robotic arms, CNC machines, and laser cutters all moved in unison.
The process was flawless.
"1.5 kilograms of fuel left... just enough for five missiles."
Hours passed.
Finally — on the polished metal rack stood five newly-built KARTAL-3MLs.
Perfect.
Deadly.
His.
"Next mission… not marketing.
Show of force."
The company was officially registered — on paper, it looked just like any other tech startup.
But in truth, it was the facade for a rising underground empire.
"Normally, you'd need licenses, inspections, defense permits... and you'd hit a wall.
But me? I've skipped all of that."
Emirhan had done it through the system — digitally, cleanly, quietly.
"In Turkey, regulatory bodies don't even inspect for the first year.
By then... I'll already be too big to stop."
Even the company's registered address pointed to a nonexistent office in a forgotten industrial zone.
And as for government support?
"They won't help me.
They won't stop me either.
He decided to stay at the base tonight.
Crossed the workshop, entered his private suite beside the firing range.
Opened the terminal. Left himself a note:
"This entire week, I'm going to mass-produce.
I'll stock up materials. Build what I know.
And I'm going to create an official website."
The website would be the gateway to the world.
A clean face. A bold name.
Gök Yıldızı Technologies.
Because if you want the world to take you seriously...
you first have to give it something to fear.
The week had flown by.
Exhausting. Focused. Productive.
By the seventh day, 689 KARTAL-3ML ATGMs had been completed.
Emirhan entered the underground garage.
Opened the trunk. Carefully placed ten missiles inside specialized crates.
"This is it.
I'm no longer just a builder.
I'm walking into the lion's den."
He opened the system terminal.
Adjusted his age to 19 — matching his mature appearance, boosted by hormonal growth he'd had since age 13.
"They won't question the beard. They'll see a prodigy."
He straightened his suit.
Gray jacket, subtle Gök Yıldızı lapel pin.
Loaded his presentation into a USB drive.
Destination: Ankara Military Command Base.
He arrived at the gate.
Security performed a digital check.
The system had generated a fully verifiable identity — nothing fake, just advanced.
The gates opened.
Waiting for him was a man in uniform:
Brigadier General Selim Geçoğlu.
They shook hands.
"So, you must be the head of Gök Yıldızı Defense Industries...
You're quite young."
Emirhan replied calmly:
"Youth contains time, Commander.
And technology knows no age."
Selim smiled.
The boy's posture and precision made him seem twice his age.
He gave the signal.
Soldiers began unloading the crates.
Ten KARTAL-3ML missiles were rolled into the inner field, bound for the test zone.
Emirhan plugged into the terminal.
Uploaded the firmware.
Confirmed chemical safety.
Checked system diagnostics.
"This test... will be the beginning of everything.
Or the first wall I slam into."
Permission granted.
All eyes on the missiles.
All pressure on the mind that built them.
The military test field was silent, tense, and watching.
Soldiers lined the perimeters in perfect rows.
Officers stood with engineers, analysts, and skeptical expressions.
No one truly believed a 19-year-old could bring something real to the table.
But Emirhan wasn't here for their belief.
He was here to destroy doubt.
Brigadier General Selim stepped forward with a mic:
"Today, we are witnessing a unique test in Turkish defense history.
Gök Yıldızı Defense presents the KARTAL-3ML missile —
now preparing for live demonstration."
Emirhan approached the terminal.
One military software expert stood beside him, but didn't interfere.
This was a closed system — coded by Emirhan himself.
Unhackable. Direct. Efficient.
One missile was mounted onto the rail.
SYSTEM ONLINE.
TARGET: Armored Threat – Type II Tactical
DISTANCE: 620m
LOCKING...
The laser eye lit up.
Target lock engaged.
The onboard AI analyzed every environmental variable —
wind, movement, temperature.
LOCK COMPLETE.
READY TO FIRE.
All eyes turned to Emirhan.
He didn't hesitate.
Thumb pressed down.
FIRE.
Launch.
The missile surged forward with a blast.
Low altitude, direct trajectory.
Glowing like a dart of death.
1.4 seconds later —
Impact.
The target shattered.
Steel fragments rained down.
High-speed cameras recorded every frame.
For a few seconds… silence.
Then—
Applause.
From soldiers. Engineers. Even the skeptics.
Some officers whispered to each other.
Others took notes in hushed excitement.
General Selim approached.
His voice lower now.
Serious. Impressed.
"That was no gimmick...
Tell me, did you really build that missile?"
"Every bolt."
The general nodded, slowly.
"Then we need to talk.
Not just about sales.
About partnership… long-term."
Emirhan smiled —
Not arrogantly. Calm. Certain.
"This is just the beginning, Commander
Silence reigned in the classified meeting room.
Until Emirhan calmly declared:
"I accept your terms.
Gök Yıldızı will integrate with the Turkish defense structure…
but it will remain in the shadows."
The generals exchanged glances.
Selim nodded, finishing the thought:
"Then…
Gök Yıldızı becomes an unofficial black-ops entity under the Turkish Armed Forces."
"Codename: GÖK YILDIZI SYSTEM.
Status: 'Top Secret – Strategic R&D Cell.'
Not to be listed in public records.
Mentioned only when necessary."
Emirhan stood straighter.
He was no longer just a rogue inventor.
He was now a ghost in the machine.
🔔 System Update:
TOP-SECRET AGREEMENT CONFIRMED
New Facility Online: Ankara Joint Production Site
Gök Yıldızı Status: Off-Record, Coded Presence
Threat Level: REDUCED
New missions and projects now available.
Emirhan now had:
🏭 A hidden state-backed production center in Ankara 🧬 Unlimited classified project clearance 🔐 Military satellite and protection coverage 🚫 No public trace of his identity or company
A shield… and a leash.
But Emirhan wasn't here to be seen.
He was here to reshape the world from the shadows.
"I won't be visible.
But my work…
will be undeniable."
Everything was in place.
The state-backed missile tests were a success.
A secret agreement was signed.
Now came the next stage:
Grow the empire. Stay invisible
There are certain types you need to watch out for in Turkish high schools.
Especially those with:
Buzz cuts, thick skulls, always lurking near trouble… but never getting caught.
Statistically?
85% chance they're tied to something criminal.
Either they're taking orders from someone, or they are someone's pawn.
Emirhan sat quietly, eyes narrowed, watching three of them from across the classroom.
He didn't speak.
He observed.
And in the background… his system was already running simulations.
"Every neighborhood has a criminal web.
Some go as deep as the high schools.
No one sees them—but I will."