From Janitor To God: The System Chose Me

The Showdown at Tech Expo

“Brooks Corp is proud to present the future of neural-AI integration—NexusCore 2.0!”

Thunderous applause erupted inside the silicon Valley Summit auditorium.

Bright lights beamed down on the main stage. Mr. Brooks stood there like a king basking in praise, arms stretched out wide, smiling as if he had created fire.

Behind him, the Brooks Corp logo flashed proudly across the stadium-sized screen. A sleek promo reel kicked off—hovering blue interfaces, sleek devices, global testimonials. All fake and all stolen.

Front-row seats were lined with foreign investors, tech magnates, influencers, and even two federal ministers.

But in the dim back corner of the venue, pushing a mop bucket and wearing a fake event badge, someone else was present.

Ethan .

Clad in a janitor’s jumpsuit again. But this time, he wasn’t here to clean floors.

He adjusted his cap low, eyes locked on the stage.

He whispered, almost without moving his lips.

“System. Ready?”

[Stealth Mode: Engaged.]

[Connected to main AV system via Expo subnet. Override primed. Just give the command.]

Ethan exhaled. His heartbeat was steady, but his hands under the gloves were sweating. Not from fear but from anticipation.

This was the day they fall. He remembered the insults and ridicule he got from them. Watching his own wife in bed with another man while Mr Brooks slapped him to go do the dishes. Those were really crazy moments.

He slipped past the security line, his move so fluid and unnoticed. He’d walked these setups a thousand times. Brooks Corp hadn’t updated their Expo infrastructure in over a year. Sloppy and predictable as expected.

He ducked behind a service curtain, found the central AV router, and slid in a drive.

“System,” he murmured. “Inject file: truthprotocol_v4. Set override for T-minus fifteen seconds.”

[Confirmed.]

[Uploading footage: Authenticated lab recordings. Development schematics. Voice memos. Signed evidence. All timestamped.]

He stood up just as a tech near the booth called out, “Thirty seconds to roll!”

Onstage, Mr. Brooks beamed brighter.

“Before we begin the demo,” he said into the mic, “allow me to introduce the brilliant mind behind our AI breakthrough—my daughter and lead developer, Lena Brooks !”

The applause doubled.

Lena stepped into the spotlight with perfect poise, her lips curling into a camera-ready smile.

Ethan ’s hands clenched.

He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe.

Fifteen seconds.

This woman once held his heart in her hand—and crushed it for a shot at a title. At a brand, at a stolen glory.

The screen began its countdown.

[Override in 3… 2… 1…]

Glitch.

The screen flickered. The logo disappeared.

Static.

A black background replaced it.

One line of bold white text appeared in silence:

“STOLEN GENIUS.”

A ripple of confusion moved through the crowd as they murmured and looked at each other.

Phones came up. There were Camera flashes.

“What the hell is that?” a man in the front row muttered.

Lena blinked. “What is this?”

Then the screen changed.

Video.

A grainy lab cam played. Ethan sat before a whiteboard, scrawling equations. He looked younger, tired and wired.

His voice echoed from the speakers:

“If we build this right, it won’t just react. It’ll learn. It’ll evolve. Like it’s alive…”

There were gasps and more murmuring in the air.

More phones came up.

Reporters stood up in their seats.

The video cut again—to a timestamped date: April 9th, 2022—Ethan writing the original NexusCore code. Line by line. Methodically. His voice explaining the neural pathway.

Then—

A lawyer’s office.

Lena . Leaning over a document.

Forging Ethan ’s signature.

The crowd exploded.

Reporters scrambled. People pointed fingers in disbelieve. A woman yelled, “Run that again!”

“No! Cut the feed!” Mr. Brooks shouted, turning toward the tech crew.

But they were frozen and powerless. No matter how much they tried, they couldn’t.

[System Lock: Full AV control engaged.]

More footage played.

A hidden mic recording from a meeting room. A junior engineer whispered:

“Yeah, we all knew Ethan was the real brain. After he disappeared, HR told us to never mention his name again.”

Nathan exploded from the wings, fury in his eyes. “Who did this?! Who hacked the system?!”

Then—

A quiet voice answered from the shadows.

“I did.”

Gasps rippled again.

Ethan stepped forward. No mop this time. Just a janitor’s cart, parked dead center in front of the stage.

But this time, he wasn’t the janitor.

Cameras snapped toward him.

Reporters screamed his name.

Takashi’s face went pale.

Lena ’s mouth parted in disbelief.

Security surged forward.

Ethan raised both hands. He had this calm and Controlled aura.

“You built an empire on a lie,” he said, voice carrying clear and steady. “And now… the world sees the truth.”

“GET HIM OUT OF HERE!” Mr. Brooks bellowed.

Two guards grabbed Ethan ’s arms.

He didn’t fight.

As they dragged him down the aisle, the crowd rose to its feet—not in protest, but in shock. Cameras kept filming. A chant started near the back, slowly building as it spread:

“Justice for Ethan ! Justice for Ethan !”

Ethan passed by Lena . She stood tall, arms folded, trying to look unaffected—but her jaw was tight.

As he was pulled past, she sneered, “Hope you enjoyed your fifteen minutes, asshole .”

Ethan met her eyes. His voice was low—but it cut through everything.

“No,” he said.

“This was just the opening act.”

***

The van door slammed shut.

Ethan ’s wrists were cuffed. His lip was bloodied. His shoulder ached from being shoved.

But his eyes?

They burned with Takashiy.

He sat in silence. Then—

[Well played.]

[Would you like to begin blacklisting the Brooks family from every lab and network across Asia?]

Ethan leaned back. A slow, dangerous smile touched his face.

“Start with the ones they bribed.”

[Acknowledged.]

[Blacklisting Protocol: Engaged.]

Outside, sirens wailed.

Inside, a revolution had begun.