CHAPTER FIVE: THE FIRST GLITCH
676 Words
By midday, Starlight Elite Academy was running exactly as it always did.
Perfectly.
Too perfectly.
Classes flowed without interruption. Schedules updated in real time. Notifications chimed softly across student devices, keeping everything in sync.
A flawless system.
Or at least that was what everyone believed.
Ivy Morgan sat quietly in the back of her next class, her eyes on the digital board at the front. Lines of structured data moved across the screen as the teacher explained system integration protocols.
Most students weren’t paying attention.
They didn’t need to.
The academy system handled everything for them.
Attendance. Assignments. Access control.
It thought for them.
Ivy watched it think.
Watched the way information moved.
The way commands were processed.
The way responses came back… almost instantly.
Almost.
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
There.
A delay.
So small no one else would notice.
A fraction of a second.
Then gone.
The system corrected itself.
Smooth. Clean.
Invisible.
But Ivy didn’t look away.
Because systems didn’t hesitate without a reason.
Minutes passed.
The class continued.
Then
A soft beep echoed from the corner of the room.
One of the smaller display panels flickered.
Just once.
A student glanced at it, frowning.
“Did you see that?”
“See what?”
“It just never mind.”
The screen stabilized.
Nothing appeared wrong.
At the front, the teacher continued speaking, unaware.
Ivy leaned back slightly, her expression unchanged.
But her mind was already moving.
Tracing possibilities.
Mapping causes.
A glitch that small didn’t start at the surface.
It came from deeper.
Another minute passed.
Then a second beep.
Louder this time.
Several students looked up.
The main board flickered briefly data scrambling for less than a second before snapping back into place.
Murmurs spread across the room.
“Okay, that one wasn’t normal.”
“Is the system lagging?”
“It never lags.”
The teacher paused, tapping the console.
“Just a minor delay,” he said. “Nothing to be concerned about.”
But his tone carried a hint of uncertainty.
Across the room, Ethan Cross didn’t move.
His gaze was fixed on the screen.
Calculating.
Observing.
Like he knew something was off but not what.
Ivy noticed.
Of course she did.
She always noticed the ones who noticed.
The system continued running.
But now
The rhythm was different.
Subtle inconsistencies.
Tiny delays.
Small enough to ignore.
Too consistent to dismiss.
Then suddenly
The lights dimmed.
Just for a second.
A sharp error tone rang out.
SYSTEM WARNING: SYNCHRONIZATION FAILURE
The message flashed across every screen in the room.
Silence fell instantly.
“What?”
“Is this part of the test?”
“No way…”
The board glitched again this time longer.
Lines of code scrambled.
Data overlapped.
Commands looped.
The system tried to correct itself
And failed.
The warning disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
Everything returned to normal.
Lights steady.
Screens stable.
No trace of the error.
But the room had changed.
The air felt different.
Tense.
Uncertain.
“That…” the teacher started, then stopped. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
Whispers broke out immediately.
“Did the system just crash?”
“Impossible. It’s secured.”
“Then what was that?”
No one had an answer.
Except
Ivy.
She sat quietly, her gaze resting on the now-perfect screen.
But behind that calm expression, her thoughts had already reached a conclusion.
That wasn’t random.
It wasn’t a failure.
It was a beginning.
Somewhere deep within the academy’s network
Something had shifted.
A flaw had surfaced.
Or worse
Something had been triggered.
Across the room, Ethan’s eyes moved again.
Not to the screen this time.
To Ivy.
She hadn’t reacted.
Not once.
Not even when the system failed.
And that
Didn’t match the situation.
Their eyes met briefly.
Ivy didn’t look away.
Didn’t explain.
Didn’t reveal.
Just silence.
Then she turned back to the board, as if nothing had happened.
But the truth was
She had already seen the c***k.
And once a system cracked…
It never stayed the same again.
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