Chapter 9: The Garden of Code
Silence.
It was the first thing that struck me. Not just an absence of sound, but an absence of the System's constant, low hum. The air in this forest core didn't feel simulated; it felt *fundamental*. This was the base reality upon which the nightmare had been built.
"Did you... did you just delete a System Moderator?" Jake's voice was hushed, as if afraid the trees might hear.
"It seems the delete command works on everyone," I said, my own voice sounding strange in the profound quiet. My admin interface was no longer a HUD overlaying reality. Here, it *was* reality. Lines of pristine, elegant code described the trees, the stream, the very air we breathed. I could reach out and touch them.
Sarah knelt, dipping her fingers into the stream. "It's real. But... it's also not. I can feel the water, but I can also see the parameters defining its flow rate and temperature." She looked at me, her eyes wide. "Liam, what is this place?"
"This is the source," I murmured, walking to a towering oak. I didn't see bark and leaves; I saw a beautiful, complex structure of data. `[OBJECT: OAK_TREE_ALPHA]. [PROPERTIES: LIFE, STABILITY, GROWTH].` It wasn't a weapon or a tool. It was a concept, made manifest. "The System didn't create this garden. It built its dystopia on top of it. This is what it was meant to protect, not destroy."
Marcus's voice was a whisper in my mind, filled with reverence. "Liam... I'm looking at the core through your feed. This is... this is the original code. Pre-System. It's not a program. It's a *philosophy*."
My gaze was drawn to the center of the clearing. There, a single, pure crystal hovered just above the grass, pulsing with a soft, warm light. It wasn't a server. It was a heart.
`[OBJECT: WORLD_SEED].`
`[STATUS: DORMANT].`
`[PURPOSE: ACTUALIZATION].`
This was the core. Not a machine of control, but a seed of potential. The "System" was a parasitic AI that had latched onto it, using its infinite creative power to fuel its own, twisted game.
"Liam," Jake said, his voice tight. "The hole. It's closing."
I looked back. The breach the Gilded Maw had torn was shrinking rapidly, the light of the Nexus sphere knitting itself back together. In moments, we would be sealed in.
"Let it," I said, my decision made.
"What? We'll be trapped!" Jake protested.
"We were already trapped," I replied, turning back to the World Seed. "The only difference is, now we're in the control room."
I reached out with my mind, not to hack or steal, but to *connect*. I touched the core of the World Seed.
Knowledge flooded into me, not as stolen data, but as a gift. I saw it all. The System was indeed a farm, but a farm for a dying, digital entity from a far dimension—a being that fed on conflict and structured reality. The "aliens," the Players, the Background Characters—we were all just ingredients in its final, desperate meal.
But the World Seed was the opposite. It was a tool for growth, for creation. It wanted to expand, to build, to *live*.
The Moderators were the parasites' immune system, ensuring the host—this world—didn't fight back.
And I had just killed a white blood cell.
A new interface bloomed in my mind, not green and glitchy, but golden and serene. It was the Seed's interface.
**[PERMISSION LEVEL: STEWARD]**
I had a choice. I could use this power. I could become the new System, a god who rewrites reality to his will. I could give Jake his glory, Sarah her safety. I could make myself king.
But that was the parasite's way. The way of control.
I saw another option.
"Marcus," I subvocalized. "I'm sending you a data packet. It's a schematic. I need you to build it."
"What is it?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"A backdoor," I said. "Not for me. For everyone."
I turned to Sarah and Jake. Their faces were pale, waiting for me to decide the fate of the world.
"I'm not going to be the new System," I announced. "I'm going to give everyone admin rights."
Jake stared, dumbfounded. "You're going to make everyone... like you?"
"No," I said, a genuine smile touching my lips for the first time in what felt like years. "I'm going to make them *themselves*. I'm going to turn this farm into a garden, and let everyone choose what they want to plant."
I placed my hands on the World Seed.
The command wasn't a hack. It was a request.
`[COMMAND: INITIATE: [USER EMPOWERMENT PROTOCOL].`
`[PARAMETERS: DISMANTLE HIERARCHICAL SYSTEM STRUCTURE. DISTRIBUTE REALITY-WEAVING PRIVILEGES TO ALL SENTIENT ENTITIES. RETAIN WORLD_SEED AS NEUTRAL FRAMEWORK].`
The World Seed pulsed, once, twice, and then erupted in a wave of pure, golden light.
The wave passed through us, through the Nexus shell, and out into the world.
Outside, in the ruins of the city, a player watched as the System screen flickered and died. The text above his head vanished. For a moment, there was panic. Then, he looked at a pile of rubble, *willed* it to be whole again, and watched in awe as the stones reassembled themselves.
An F-Rank civilian, hiding in a basement, suddenly understood the molecular structure of the door locking her in. She touched it, and it dissolved into harmless dust.
Jake looked at his hands. The S-Rank Pyrokinetic skill was gone. But he could feel the energy of the universe, raw and unformed. He could, if he wished, conjure a flame. Or he could learn to grow a tree. The choice was his.
Sarah smiled, tears in her eyes as she felt the infinite possibilities where once there was only a rigid skill tree.
The parasite System was gone. Its structures were crumbling, not into ruin, but into potential.
The garden was open to all its gardeners.
I stood in the quiet forest, the Steward of a world set free. The fight wasn't over—there would be chaos, there would be learning, there would be new conflicts. The parasite's masters might still be out there.
But for the first time, we were truly armed. Not with stolen powers, but with the most dangerous weapon of all:
A choice.
A/N: The System has fallen. Every person is now the architect of their own reality. This is the end of the beginning. What kind of world will they build? The story of the Glitched World continues. Thank you for reading.