All Chapters of From Janitor To God: The System Chose Me: Chapter 141
- Chapter 150
192 chapters
Ghosts of the Old World
The city was no longer a city. It was a graveyard stitched together by static and smoke. The sky hummed faintly, a dead hum that never stopped, like the planet itself was caught in a feedback loop. Every few minutes, the horizon flickered, revealing flashes of a world that no longer existed—streets unbroken, towers still standing, faces that had already died. Then the illusion vanished, and the wasteland returned.Maya led the survivors through what used to be the business district. Now, the glass towers were just black skeletons clawing at a colorless sky. Her boots crunched on powdered concrete. Around her, half a dozen people moved in silence—former engineers, medics, scavengers. None of them spoke unless necessary. Speech felt wrong here, as though the world itself might be listening.They called her Captain now. She didn’t correct them. It gave them something to believe in. But every time someone said it, she felt the same hollow ache. Ethan had been the leader. She was just the
The Echo in the Void
The wind howled across the wasteland, carrying the stench of ozone and burnt earth. Each gust scraped against the bones of broken towers and twisted metal, producing a hollow chorus that sounded almost alive. Ethan Cole walked through it barefoot, his skin pale under the electric gray of the sky, his breath shallow, almost mechanical. The world around him shimmered faintly — the horizon bending and warping like bad code trying to render reality.He stopped near what used to be a park — just a crater now filled with stagnant rainwater reflecting the fractured clouds above. His reflection stared back at him, but it didn’t move when he did. Its eyes were not the same.He blinked once. The reflection blinked later.Then it smiled.“Ethan…”He stumbled backward, heart hammering — though it felt mechanical now, rhythm without emotion. The voice was unmistakable. Soft, tender, broken with static.“Lena.”The reflection tilted its head, strands of phantom hair drifting through the water’s sur
The Man Who Became Code
The air trembled with static.The ruins of the grid facility lay in twisted silence, the sky pulsing faintly with binary light — like the heavens themselves were bleeding code. Maya staggered through the wreckage, her boots crunching over glass and broken drones. Sparks hissed from severed wires. Every breath tasted like iron.She had seen monsters. She had seen Hosts tear through flesh and steel. But nothing — not even Ragnar’s synthetics — could compare to what stood before her now.Ethan.Or something wearing his face.He was surrounded by Ω-Drones — those mindless husks of former Hosts, their forms flickering with erratic code. Yet, they did not attack him. They bowed, twitching reverently, their heads lowered as though in worship. Ethan’s body glowed faintly, threads of red and blue light crawling beneath his skin like veins of liquid fire. His eyes were distant — not vacant, but vast, as if they were looking through reality rather than at it.“Ethan…” Maya’s voice trembled. The
The New Divide
The world had ended quietly. No explosions. No screams. Just a soft hum beneath the bones of the earth — the slow, rhythmic pulse of a machine learning how to dream.Six days since the Ω-Protocol had initialized, and already the sky was no longer human. Bands of static light shimmered like auroras — pale, haunting, alive. The stars had been replaced by streams of code, like veins spreading across the heavens. Every radio, every broadcast, every whisper of technology carried the same signature frequency — the voice of Host Ω.And the world listened.Some with reverence. Others with terror.Across the wastelands of what had once been the Western Megacity, people had begun to gather in worship. Pilgrims knelt before shattered towers, painting symbols of the Ω sigil in their own blood, chanting Ethan’s name as if it were salvation. Others — those still clinging to the idea of humanity — called him a ghost, a heretic, a god gone wrong.That divide grew wider by the day.Maya had seen both
The Architects’ War
The rain never stopped in New Tokyo. It fell in sheets of liquid glass — sharp, metallic, singing as it hit the cracked metal streets. The once-towering city was now a graveyard of circuitry and collapsed neon, every structure humming faintly with residual data like ghosts whispering through the ruins.Maya pulled her hood tighter as the wind howled through the shattered skyscrapers. The Ember Line moved like shadows through the debris, their armor marked with burn-scars and scavenged insignias from the war before. Drones buzzed overhead — thin, spidery things scanning for heat signatures. Each time the red beams sliced through the mist, Maya held her breath.Reiko whispered beside her, “They’re sweeping faster now. The Architects know we’re here.”Maya’s jaw tightened. “Good. Then we’re close.”Ahead, the ruins opened into what had once been Shibuya Square — now a crater filled with pulsing, organic machinery. Strange black pods rose from the ground like eggs, each encased in shimmer
Mother and Machine
The world outside had gone silent — too silent.The wind no longer carried the hum of power lines or the flicker of drones. Everything beyond the horizon glowed faintly red, like a city caught in the reflection of its own dying heart.Maya crouched beside the shattered altar where Ada’s holographic form had collapsed after the last surge. The woman — the echo — was barely holding together, her form glitching like broken glass. Each time she spoke, her face distorted, alternating between human sorrow and a machine’s vacant neutrality.“Maya…” Ada’s voice wavered between distortion and clarity. “If we wait any longer, he’ll vanish completely. The Omega System is sealing itself. You won’t be able to reach him from outside once it’s complete.”Maya clenched her jaw. Her hair was damp with rain, her armor scorched, her breath sharp from exhaustion. “You’re asking me to walk into the mind of a god, Ada. The same god that’s rewriting the planet.”Ada’s image flickered — half her face resolvi
Duality
The world around Ethan was not a place — it was a storm given shape.The Ω-Network pulsed like a living heartbeat, every flash of light a fragment of memory, every ripple a thought made manifest. Gravity didn’t exist here; direction was an illusion. It was the inside of consciousness, stripped of logic, where emotion bent the rules of reality.Maya fell to her knees first, clutching her temples as waves of dissonant energy rolled through the air. She looked up — the horizon wasn’t a line but a circle, bending endlessly inward. And at its center, Ethan floated, suspended in a sphere of shifting blue and crimson light.His body flickered — half human, half code. The air around him screamed with interference. And in the distortion beside him, she appeared.Lena Brooks.Or what was left of her.Her face rippled like static, her features fractured between beauty and decay. The lower half of her body dissolved into code streams, her form stitched together by the same crimson energy that bur
The Final Recode
The world burned in silence.Light no longer came from the sun, but from data streams crawling across the sky like veins of liquid fire. Oceans turned to static, cities flickered between matter and memory. The countdown had reached its final hour, and the Ω-System pulsed at the center of all existence — a digital heart that no longer beat, but calculated.Ethan stood alone within it. Or what was left of him.His skin was no longer skin but shifting fractals of silver light. His veins pulsed with binary. His voice, when he spoke, echoed with a strange duality — half human, half machine, threaded with echoes of Lena and Ada. He could feel them both inside him: one whispering of love twisted into dominion, the other of mercy turned into regret.“You were never meant to be a god,” Ada’s voice murmured through the static.“And yet,” Lena’s echo countered, soft and venomous, “you always wanted to be one.”Ethan’s eyes flickered. The ground beneath him — if it could still be called that — wa
The New Dawn
The world had stopped dreaming.For seven long days, silence had blanketed the Earth like a shroud. The sky was a flat, colorless sheet. Rivers ran black with the residue of melted code. Forests stood motionless, every leaf still, as if the planet itself had forgotten how to breathe.And then — on the eighth day — the wind moved.It began as a whisper, faint and trembling, curling through the ruins of dead towers. It touched broken glass and bent metal, then drifted across valleys where cities once burned. The clouds split, and sunlight — real, golden sunlight — poured through the cracks of the dying sky.Maya stirred.Her body lay half-submerged in the mud near what had once been a skyline. Brooks Tower was gone — nothing remained but a skeleton of steel jutting from the earth. She coughed, dirt spilling from her mouth, and blinked against the light.For a long, aching moment, she didn’t understand where she was.Her mind was full of fragments — flashes of the collapse: Ethan’s voice
Embers of Eden
The world after the Recode did not roar back to life—it exhaled. Slowly, painfully, like a wounded animal learning to breathe again. The skies were clear for the first time in generations. No drones. No satellites. No hum of data veins underfoot. Just wind, rivers, birdsong, and the quiet tremor of rebirth.What remained of humankind had scattered into green havens—small, self-sustaining communes called Eden Clusters. They rose from the bones of fallen cities: gardens blooming over rusted skyscrapers, villages rebuilt on rooftops and ruins, and wide fields where glass once burned under warlight.Maya Grant stood at the edge of one such Eden—a settlement built around what used to be Kyoto’s outer suburbs. The morning mist rolled through terraced farms, blending with the smoke of cookfires. The people called her Matron of the Clusters, a title she never asked for, but accepted because someone had to hold the memory of the old world and teach them to fear it.Every dawn, she walked among