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INFINITE GROWTH SYSTEM: FROM NOTHING TO ABSOLUTE POWER

Chapter 178 - 177 — The First Lie · Nov 12, 2026

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Chapter List (204)

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151 Chapter 151 - 150 — THE QUESTION BENEATH THE QUESTION 2026-11-12
152 Chapter 152 - 151 — The Council of Roots 2026-11-12
153 Chapter 153 - 152 — The Choice No One Could Make 2026-11-12
154 Chapter 154 - 153 — THE PATH BETWEEN 2026-11-12
155 Chapter 155 - 154 — THE DOOR THAT WAITED 2026-11-12
156 Chapter 156 - 155 — THE SHADOW THAT REMEMBERED 2026-11-12
157 Chapter 157 - 156 — The Garden Remembers 2026-11-12
158 Chapter 158 - 157 — What the Garden Remembered 2026-11-12
159 Chapter 159 - 158 — The Road Beyond the Garden 2026-11-12
160 Chapter 160 - 159: The Name Beneath the Roots 2026-11-12
161 Chapter 161 - 160 — THE MAN WHO REMEMBERED 2026-11-12
162 Chapter 162 - 161 — THE CHOICE THAT WAS FORGOTTEN 2026-11-12
163 Chapter 163 - 162 — THE COMMAND THAT REMAINED 2026-11-12
164 Chapter 164 - 163 — THE LOCKS THAT OPENED 2026-11-12
165 Chapter 165 - 164 — THE SECOND BEGINNING 2026-11-12
166 Chapter 166 - 165 — THE CITY THAT REMEMBERED 2026-11-12
167 Chapter 167 - 166 — THE PART THAT REMAINED 2026-11-12
168 Chapter 168 - 167 — THE WEIGHT OF WHAT REMAINS 2026-11-12
169 Chapter 169 - 168 — THE ROAD BEFORE THE WORLD 2026-11-12
170 Chapter 170 - 169 — THE WORLD THAT CAME BACK 2026-11-12
171 Chapter 171 - 170 — THE GOD WHO REFUSED 2026-11-12
172 Chapter 172 - 171 — THE WORLD THAT CAME FIRST 2026-11-12
173 Chapter 173 - 172 — THE WORLD BETWEEN MEMORIES 2026-11-12
174 Chapter 174 - 173 — THE WORLD THAT CHOSE ITSELF 2026-11-12
175 Chapter 175 - 174 — THE HOME THAT NEVER WAS 2026-11-12
176 Chapter 176 - 175 — BEFORE THE FIRST WORLD 2026-11-12
177 Chapter 177 - 176 — THE ONE WHO REMEMBERED 2026-11-12
178 Chapter 178 - 177 — The First Lie 2026-11-12
179 Chapter 179 - 178 — THE PERMISSION TO REMEMBER 2026-11-12
180 Chapter 180 - 179 — WHY YOU WERE WATCHING 2026-11-12
181 Chapter 181 - 180 — The Witness Beneath the World 2026-11-12
182 Chapter 182 - 181 — THE HEART THAT WAS NEVER BORN 2026-11-12
183 Chapter 183 - 182 — THE WORLD THAT HAD A HEART 2026-11-12
184 Chapter 184 - 183: The World That Remembered Him 2026-11-12
185 Chapter 185 - 184: The Thing That Never Remembered 2026-11-12
186 Chapter 186 - 185: The Dream That Remembered Nothing 2026-11-12
187 Chapter 187 - 186 — THE FACE BENEATH THE SHADOW 2026-11-12
188 Chapter 188 - 187 — THE COST OF LEAVING 2026-11-12
189 Chapter 189 - 188: THE ROAD THAT CHOSE HIM 2026-11-12
190 Chapter 190 - 189: THE MAN WHO STAYED 2026-11-12
191 Chapter 191 - 190: THE LIGHTS BEYOND THE HILLS 2026-11-12
192 Chapter 192 - 191: The Road That Answered 2026-11-12
193 Chapter 193 - 192: The Beginning Beneath the Road 2026-11-12
194 Chapter 194 - 193: THE CHOICE THAT WALKED AWAY 2026-11-12
195 Chapter 195 - 194: THE THING HE LEFT BEHIND 2026-11-12
196 Chapter 196 - 195 — THE WEIGHT OF WANTING 2026-11-12
197 Chapter 197 - 196: WHAT HE COULD NOT SAVE 2026-11-12
198 Chapter 198 - 197: THE ROAD ABOVE THE CLOUDS 2026-11-12
199 Chapter 199 - 198: THE ROAD ABOVE THE WORLD 2026-11-12
200 Chapter 200 - 199: THE CHOICE THAT WAITED 2026-11-12

The door slammed shut.

Auren flinched.

Not because of the sound.

Because the room changed.

The warmth disappeared first.

The small room with its wooden table, two chairs, window, and impossible book remained exactly where it had been, but something fundamental had shifted. The air felt heavier. The walls seemed farther away.

And the stranger was no longer smiling.

Auren stared at him.

The stranger stared back.

Neither spoke.

Then, from somewhere beyond the closed door, came another sound.

A fist striking wood.

Once.

Hard.

”Auren!”

The woman’s voice.

He turned immediately.

”Auren, don’t—”

The door shook.

Her voice broke apart.

”Auren!”

He reached for the handle.

”Don’t.”

The stranger’s voice stopped him.

Auren looked over his shoulder.

The stranger was standing beside the table now, one hand resting against the open book.

”You heard her.”

”I did.”

”Then why are you still standing there?”

”Because she told me not to let you remember me.”

The stranger’s fingers tightened against the book.

”Good.”

Auren narrowed his eyes.

”Good?”

”You listened.”

Another impact struck the door.

The entire room trembled.

Auren looked back.

Something scratched along the other side.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Then silence.

He turned again.

”What are you?”

The stranger didn’t answer.

Auren stepped toward him.

”I’ve asked you twice.”

”And you’ve received two answers.”

”You said you were the person who remembers the beginning.”

”I am.”

”You said the beginning was a lie.”

”It was.”

”Then tell me what the truth is.”

The stranger looked down at the book.

”That’s the problem.”

”What problem?”

”The truth existed before the question.”

Auren stopped.

The six marks beneath his skin began to glow.

Identity.

Truth.

Choice.

Remembrance.

Sovereignty.

Release.

The seventh eye remained open.

Watching.

The stranger noticed them.

”You’ve changed.”

Auren looked at his wrist.

”No.”

”Yes.”

”Into what?”

The stranger’s eyes moved to the seventh symbol.

”Someone who can finally witness without interfering.”

Auren’s expression hardened.

”You keep saying that word.”

”Witness?”

”Yes.”

”It frightens you.”

”It doesn’t.”

”It should.”

Auren stepped closer.

”I have seen worlds die.”

”I know.”

”I have watched people forget me.”

”I know.”

”I have stood before versions of myself who became gods.”

”I know.”

”I have watched the woman I loved die because of what I became.”

The stranger’s expression softened.

”I know.”

Auren’s voice dropped.

”So stop telling me what I should fear.”

The stranger looked at him for a long moment.

Then he said:

”You should fear what remembers you when you don’t.”

The room went still.

Auren stared at him.

”What does that mean?”

The stranger didn’t answer.

Instead, he closed the book.

The moment the cover touched the pages, every light in the room vanished.

Darkness swallowed them.

Auren instinctively reached for the stranger.

His hand passed through empty air.

”Where are you?”

No response.

”Auren.”

The woman’s voice came from behind him.

He spun.

She was standing there.

Not outside the door.

Inside the room.

Her face was wet with tears.

Auren stared.

”You said you weren’t coming.”

”I didn’t.”

”Then how—”

She looked frightened.

Not sad.

Not sorrowful.

Terrified.

”Auren, listen to me.”

He moved toward her.

”What happened?”

”You cannot let it remember you.”

”You already said that.”

”I know.”

”What does it mean?”

She looked toward the closed book.

”It means you cannot let it know that you know.”

Auren’s eyes narrowed.

”Know what?”

She shook her head.

”I can’t tell you.”

”Why?”

”Because if I say it, it will hear me.”

Auren looked around.

”There’s no one here.”

She stared at him.

”That’s what you think.”

The seventh eye on Auren’s wrist flickered.

The woman noticed.

Her expression changed.

”No.”

”What?”

”Close it.”

”I don’t know how.”

”Then stop looking.”

Auren froze.

”Stop looking at what?”

”Everything.”

The words made no sense.

Then Auren understood.

Witnessing wasn’t seeing.

It was attention.

Observation.

Recognition.

He had spent eternity believing that to witness meant to remain passive.

But witnessing something gave it existence.

He slowly closed his eyes.

The room disappeared.

The woman disappeared.

The table disappeared.

The book disappeared.

Everything disappeared.

For several seconds there was nothing.

Then—

A breath.

Not his.

Something was standing behind him.

Auren kept his eyes shut.

A voice whispered:

”Good.”

He recognized it.

The stranger.

Auren didn’t turn.

”You came back.”

”No.”

”Then who is speaking?”

”The part of you that still remembers me.”

Auren opened his eyes.

He was no longer in the room.

He stood somewhere else.

A vast plain stretched beneath a colorless sky.

No sun.

No stars.

No horizon.

Just an endless pale surface.

The stranger stood several meters away.

But he looked different now.

Older.

Much older.

His skin carried thin cracks of light.

His eyes were no longer calm.

They were tired.

”You wanted the beginning,” he said.

Auren looked around.

”This isn’t it.”

”No.”

”Then where are we?”

”Before.”

Auren stared at him.

”Before the First World?”

”Before the possibility of the First World.”

Auren felt something tighten inside his chest.

The stranger pointed downward.

”Look.”

Auren did.

There was nothing.

Then he noticed a tiny movement beneath the pale surface.

Something stirred.

Auren crouched.

A crack appeared.

Then another.

The surface opened.

Darkness lay beneath it.

Not empty darkness.

Depth.

Auren leaned closer.

Something was moving inside.

A tiny light appeared.

Then another.

Then thousands.

Auren slowly stood.

”Worlds?”

”No.”

”Then what?”

The stranger looked at him.

”Questions.”

Auren said nothing.

The lights continued appearing.

Each one pulsed.

Each one contained a possibility.

One contained fire.

One contained water.

One contained a single living creature.

One contained billions.

One contained nothing but darkness.

One contained Auren.

Another contained the woman.

Another contained both of them.

Another contained neither.

Auren watched them multiply.

”This is where the worlds came from.”

”No.”

The stranger shook his head.

”This is where the questions came from.”

”What is the difference?”

”Everything.”

The first light suddenly expanded.

Auren saw the woman.

Alone.

Not beneath the First Tree.

Not in the First World.

Not anywhere he remembered.

She floated in absolute nothingness.

There was no body.

No voice.

No name.

Only awareness.

She was the first consciousness.

Auren recognized the scene from Chapter 176.

But something was wrong.

The memory was different.

She wasn’t asking—

What if I wasn’t alone?

She was remembering something.

Auren’s heart stopped.

”That’s impossible.”

The stranger said nothing.

The woman looked into the emptiness.

And whispered:

”Auren.”

Auren staggered backward.

”She knew my name.”

”Yes.”

”Before I existed.”

”Yes.”

”How?”

The stranger’s eyes closed.

”That’s why the first world was never the beginning.”

Auren stared at the memory.

The woman whispered his name again.

Then something answered.

Not Auren.

Something else.

Something beyond the memory.

A voice so vast that the empty space itself seemed to bend around it.

”He has not been made yet.”

The woman looked up.

”I know.”

”Then why do you remember him?”

She smiled.

”Because I loved him.”

Auren stopped breathing.

The stranger whispered:

”There.”

Auren looked at him.

”The first lie.”

”No.”

The stranger shook his head.

”The first lie came after that.”

Auren’s eyes returned to the woman.

She was still smiling.

Then the memory changed.

Auren saw himself.

Not as a man.

Not as a god.

Not as the First Witness.

Not as anything.

Just a possibility.

A shape without form.

A consciousness without identity.

The woman reached toward it.

And the moment her hand touched the possibility—

everything exploded into light.

Auren fell to his knees.

The six marks burned.

The seventh eye opened.

The First World appeared.

The First Tree.

The city.

His wife.

His life.

Every world.

Every version.

Every choice.

Every death.

Every beginning.

All of it emerged from that single touch.

Auren stared in horror.

”It wasn’t a question.”

The stranger looked at him.

”What?”

”Her first thought.”

Auren slowly rose.

”It wasn’t What if I wasn’t alone?”

”No.”

”She remembered me.”

”Yes.”

”Before I existed.”

”Yes.”

”Then the question came afterward.”

The stranger nodded.

Auren’s voice became almost a whisper.

”So she didn’t imagine me.”

”No.”

”She remembered me.”

”Yes.”

”But how can someone remember something before it happens?”

The stranger looked toward the endless lights.

”That is the question.”

Auren stared at him.

”And you know the answer.”

The stranger didn’t respond.

”You know.”

Silence.

Auren stepped closer.

”Who are you?”

The stranger looked at him.

For the first time, something like shame appeared in his eyes.

”I was there.”

”Where?”

”Before the first world.”

”Doing what?”

”Watching.”

Auren’s expression changed.

”You were the first Witness.”

”No.”

”Then what were you?”

The stranger looked toward the memory of the woman.

”I was the one who watched her remember you.”

Auren felt cold.

”And you remembered it.”

”Yes.”

”Then why did you say you remember the beginning?”

”I remember the moment everyone else forgot.”

Auren’s heartbeat quickened.

”Who forgot?”

”Everyone.”

”Why?”

The stranger looked directly at him.

”Because you asked them to.”

Auren shook his head.

”No.”

”You did.”

”Before I existed?”

”Yes.”

”That makes no sense.”

”It doesn’t have to.”

Auren’s jaw tightened.

”Everything has to make sense.”

The stranger smiled sadly.

”That’s the lie.”

Auren stopped.

The stranger continued.

”You’ve spent eternity believing that reality must move forward.”

He gestured toward the countless lights.

”Beginning.”

One light appeared.

”Choice.”

Another.

”Consequence.”

Another.

”Memory.”

Another.

”End.”

Another.

”But reality doesn’t move.”

Auren watched the lights.

”They don’t?”

”No.”

The stranger pointed toward the darkness beneath them.

”It remembers.”

Auren’s breathing slowed.

”Reality isn’t a line.”

”No.”

”It’s a memory.”

”Closer.”

”What is it?”

The stranger looked at him.

”A wound.”

The word echoed across the pale plain.

Auren frowned.

”A wound?”

”The first thing that existed wasn’t a world.”

The stranger raised his hand.

The entire plain cracked.

Beneath it was not darkness.

There was something enormous beneath everything.

Something ancient.

Something that had no shape because shape had not yet been invented.

Auren felt it.

Not as a presence.

As an absence.

The place where existence itself had been damaged.

The stranger whispered:

”Something happened before the first world.”

Auren stared into the abyss.

”What?”

”I don’t know.”

Auren turned sharply.

”You don’t know?”

”No.”

”You were there.”

”I was watching.”

”Then you saw it.”

”I saw the aftermath.”

”What happened?”

The stranger’s voice became barely audible.

”The first memory.”

Auren looked into the abyss.

”What memory?”

The stranger didn’t answer.

The seventh eye on Auren’s wrist suddenly closed.

Auren froze.

The six marks went dark.

The world became silent.

Then the eye opened again.

But this time—

it was not on his wrist.

It was in the sky.

Auren looked up.

A gigantic eye stared down at him.

Not a symbol.

Not an image.

A real eye.

Ancient.

Wet.

Alive.

The stranger dropped to his knees.

”No.”

Auren stared upward.

The eye blinked.

The entire plain trembled.

And then Auren heard a voice.

Not from the eye.

From inside himself.

A voice that sounded like the woman.

Like the stranger.

Like Ethan.

Like Edran.

Like every version of himself he had ever encountered.

All speaking together.

All terrified.

”It remembers.”

Auren’s blood ran cold.

The eye looked directly at him.

And something began to emerge from the darkness beneath the plain.

Not a hand.

Not a face.

Not a god.

A memory.

A memory of Auren standing somewhere he had never been.

Holding the hand of someone he had never met.

Looking at a world that had not yet been created.

And saying:

”We have to forget this.”

Auren stared at the impossible scene.

The stranger began to cry.

Auren turned toward him.

”What did I forget?”

The stranger looked up.

His face had lost all color.

”You forgot why you wanted the world to exist.”

Auren looked back at the memory.

The woman appeared beside his younger, impossible self.

She was crying.

He was holding her hand.

And behind them stood something enormous.

Something that had been watching both of them.

Auren whispered:

”Who is that?”

The stranger answered:

”The thing that existed before you.”

The memory shifted.

The enormous presence leaned closer.

And for the first time, Auren heard its voice clearly.

”You promised you would never remember me.”

The seventh eye opened completely.

The plain disappeared.

The stranger vanished.

And Auren found himself standing alone before the thing that existed before the first world.

It had no face.

Yet somehow—

he knew exactly who it was.

Because when it reached toward him,

Auren remembered its hand.

And remembered making the promise.

Not to forget it.

Not to escape it.

But to hide it.

From everyone.

Even himself.

Then the thing whispered:

”Now tell me, Auren—who gave you permission to remember?”

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