The world no longer whispered commands.
No beeps. No pop-ups. No skill trees or stat windows. Just… silence.
Yuto stood on the edge of a ruined cliff, overlooking what was once the Compiler Nexus. The shattered threads of the old system drifted through the air like feathered ash, dissolving as the new reality took root.
"It's really… quiet," Nyx murmured.
"Feels wrong," Yuto replied. "Like I'm waiting for the system to boot back up. Waiting for it to tell me what to do next."
But it wouldn't.
Because it was gone.
He hadn't just rewritten the system. He'd freed it—from itself.
No more reincarnation cycles.
No more artificially imposed skill ceilings.
No divine interventions.
Just choice. Evolution by desire, not design.
Yet something remained.
In his chest, he still felt the hum. A subtle resonance—no longer system-linked, but soul-linked. A power born from rewriting, not coding. Something uniquely his.
Threadborn Authority.
He wasn't a bug anymore.
He was the First of the Unwritten.
Villages that once worshiped system gods woke to silence. The cults panicked. Nobles lost access to status buffs. Mercenaries complained that their dungeon maps no longer "auto-cleared."
But others?
Others cheered.
The Beastkin who'd never leveled due to "racial modifiers."
The orphan children never chosen by a "Hero System."
The monsters who never wanted war, only survival.
They saw the world breathe anew.
Yuto traveled, slowly.
Sometimes helping.
Sometimes hiding.
Never settling.
He didn't know what he wanted to be yet. Not a god. Not a tyrant.
Maybe just… a person.
At least for now.
But deep beneath the earth, far beneath shattered admin towers…
A terminal blinked to life.
[Backup Node Detected]
[Restoring Fragmented Process: ORPHEUS_CHILD.exe]
[Reconstruction: 2%...]
And far to the east, a figure in admin robes smiled as the data winds shifted.
"Threadborn, huh?" she whispered. "I wonder how long freedom can last… when there are still those who remember the chains."
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A/N:- "Sorryyy!!!!!!!! was busy with exams and personal works."