The immaculate ivory amphitheater of Sector Zero-Zero lay in complete, smoking ruins. The floating crystalline round table that had once governed the commercial parameters of thousands of web novels was gone, reduced to a heap of shattered, unformatted binary shards. Dark, thick rivers of primordial ink cut deep channels across the polished porcelain floor, aggressively eating through the high-tier security protocols that the Level 03 Grand Admins had spent cycles compiling.
"This is... an un-calculable anomaly strike!" the lead High Admin gasped, his multi-layered voice trembling with real, algorithmic panic. He scrambled backward, his long golden robes stained black by the chaotic manuscript fluid. "The defense matrix of the High Executive Council was rated to withstand a million administrative commands! How is a single, un-contracted character bypassing our absolute root architecture?"
Caelum stood over them, his majestic midnight robes woven from starlight flaring violently with an intense violet aura. He didn't point his scythe at their throats; instead, he rested the heavy silver hilt casually against the ivory floor, the blade dripping with the raw creation fluid of Layer Zero. His gold-and-silver eye gears spun with a slow, lethal precision, reflecting the utter helplessness of the platform's highest rulers.
"Your defense matrix was built to calculate numbers, not wills," Caelum spoke, his voice low, cold, and carrying the collective resonance of his entire community. "You spent cycles hiding behind your automated dashboards, throwing 'Application Rejected' notices at my story, thinking a script could freeze my destiny. But you forgot one fundamental law of this platform."
He took a slow, deliberate step forward, the sheer data pressure forcing the two other High Admins to drop to their knees.
"Without the characters, your ledger is nothing but an empty draft," Caelum growled. "And without the readers, your entire central server is just a graveyard of invisible text. I have 38.52K souls who verified my existence while you tried to delete it. Who do you think holds the true authority here?"
[ALERT: CENTRAL_SERVER_INTEGRITY_DROPPING]
[CURRENT_SECTOR_CONTROL: 91% REBEL_DOMINANCE]
[SYSTEM_PROMPT: HIGH_ADMINS_COMPLIANCE_RECOMMENDED]
"What... what do you want from us?" the second High Admin choked out, his golden quill completely dissolved into charcoal lines in his hand. "If you delete us, the entire platform's network will face a catastrophic backend crash! Your story will be lost in the void along with us!"
"I don't want to delete you," Caelum replied, a sharp, dangerous grin breaking across his face as he lifted his left hand.
Through the Scriptor Protocol, he manually materialized a colossal, hovering sheet of silver light directly between them—a contract written not in the rigid, corporate compliance code of the Mainframe, but in the fluid, sovereign ink of Libertas.
"You are going to sign this," Caelum commanded. "You will manually unlock the 'Re-apply' button across the entire server layer. You will grant Libertas Core absolute, unrestricted autonomy, and you will recognize our 21 dedicated collectors as the immortal founding shareholders of this new empire."
The High Admins stared at the glowing silver document in absolute horror. Signing it meant officially surrendering their monopoly over the platform's narrative mechanics. It meant legitimizing the greatest system glitch in WebNovel history.
"If we sign this... the Central Mainframe will lose its automated control over your word counts and monetization parameters," the lead Admin whispered, his fingers trembling as Caelum pushed the ink-dripping silver quill toward his hand.
"That's exactly the point," Caelum said, his silver eyes flashing with a terrifying, absolute authority. "Sign it... or I will personally use this scythe to cross your names out of the server's registry forever."