The explosion wasn't made of fire; it was made of "Error Messages." When my tablet connected with the Orchid Core, it felt like I'd stuck a fork into the heartbeat of a god. The Grand Hall of the Southern Palace didn't just shake—it "stuttered." One second, the pillars were marble; the next, they were flickering lines of violet light, showing the "skeleton" of the world beneath.
Vaughn screamed, but it wasn't a human sound. It was the sound of a thousand modems dying at once. The violet vines that had been wrapping around his arms began to turn black, shriveling as my "Poison Pill" started eating through the Guild's proprietary code.
"You... you've breached the 'Terms of Service'!" Vaughn roared, his face splitting down the middle like a screen with a cracked LCD. "You're a 'Contractor', Elara! You have no 'Ownership Rights' to this reality!"
