Glitch Book Novels & Stories

Elara roared at the empty, grey sky. She looked down at her hands. The violet veins were throbbing, the silver light under her skin the only thing with a pulse in a hundred mile radius. She was the "Glitch" in their perfect pause. She began to walk. Every step felt like wading through waist deep mercury. The air was thick, resistant, as if the universe were trying to set her in resin. She made it to the edge of the cliff. Below, the city of Lagos was a sprawling, silent graveyard of lights that didn't flicker. Millions of lives, paused in the middle of a breath, a laugh, a fight.

The deep, foundational pulse of the sub-basement escapement wheel didn't remain confined to the reinforced concrete vault. By the second week of July, that slow, rhythmic 'thump' seemed to have bled upward through the old timber joists of the DUMBO warehouse, anchoring the forty-two Glitches in a collective, unhurried focus. The chaotic, frantic energy of their initial weeks had completely distilled into a smooth, deliberate momentum.

As they walked toward the main building, Emery noticed something strange. Students froze. Not everyone. Just a few. For less than a second. Then they continued walking as though nothing had happened. A boy dropped his books. The books fell upward. Only for an instant. Then gravity returned to normal. Emery stopped walking. “Did you see that?” Rowan had. “The glitches are spreading.” “What are glitches?” “The worlds aren’t staying separate anymore.” A cold knot formed in Emery’s stomach. “What happens if they collide?” Rowan looked away.

This glowing figure of someone who shouldn’t exist steps back from me as if I’m the anomaly, his expression a mix of disturbance and disbelief. The sound of rushing footsteps makes both of us snap our heads towards the entrance of the alley. When I look back in his direction again, there’s nothing there. “Fuck,” I breathe out, eyes darting in every direction Don’t tell me— did I just imagine— My fingers brush against something on the ground, the leathery texture similar to what I felt when I tried to hold onto that man. My eyes snap down to it. A book. It’s glowing in the same, faint light as that man. It feels warm in my hands, smells like something herbal and ancient. It’s real.

I creased my brows as if it took me some effort to recall. "Oh…" I suddenly gasped in realization, deliberately letting myself trail off before flashing an innocent smile. "So that was you—I'm so sorry, but like you said, it happened twenty years ago. It was so long ago that I've forgotten it. See, as I've accomplished so much important research work day after day, who has time to remember such… trivialities?"

SEASON 2 Hello everyone! First of all, if you have made it this far, an endless thank you to you. I appreciate your presence taking the time reading my book. Secondly, I am sorry. I am sorry because I may not deliver the cleanest chain of thought or have a strong plot in a story. I am a new writer and still currently learning as of today. Lastly, I have decided and think heavily that I will put the P.O.V of the second book in the Third Person. I find it more transparent and direct and showcase all the feelings, emotions, and thoughts that a particular character may have.

"I created the Original Glitch as a Security Protocol. I made us 'Broken' so that we could never be fully Owned" "He’s showing us the Master-Key, Mother!" Leo shouted, his indigo runes turning a brilliant, tactical gold. He was standing at the base of the helix, his hands pressed against the stone as he attempted to "Read" the prehistoric data. "The 'Too Much' energy isn't a bug! It’s the Encryption! If we aren't 'Perfect,' the Loom can't 'Format' us! The scars aren't just memories; they’re the Firewall!".

A closed eye. Emily opened the book. The pages were blank. "What?" she muttered. She ran her hand over the paper. As her skin touched the page, words began to bleed into existence. They weren't written in ink. They were written in grey light. THE CODEX OF THE SLEEPER Entry 1: The Nature of the Anomaly. Emily read. And as she read, her world shifted. "The Oneiric is not a witch. Nor a mage. The Oneiric is a glitch in the cycle of souls. A mortal spirit that crossed the Veil of Death but was rejected, returning to the living world misaligned."

--- The words weren’t defiance anymore. --- They were fact. --- The kind that couldn’t be rewritten. --- Couldn’t be optimized away. --- Another glitch— --- Closer. --- A man stumbled mid-step— --- Not reset immediately. --- Not corrected instantly. --- He looked around— --- Eyes narrowing. --- Awareness flickering through him like something waking up. --- Then— --- Delayed correction. --- Too late. --- “He saw it,” he said quietly. --- A pause. --- “He actually saw it.” --- And that—

Not to prosecute them but to aid their ability and enhance their magic, I made a few notes in my note book to remember them and to try them out one day. Eventually I get to the page that was highlighted by the Goddess, still confused why she pointed it out, I noticed that the page was thicker than the rest. I turned the torch on my phone and investigated the page, nothing looked different but then I turned the book to look at the bottom of the page and noticed there was a small gap. Almost like there were two pages stuck together, I try to pull them apart with my fingers but I was worried about ripping the page and having to pay to replace the book in the library.