Glitch Tech Season 2 Novels & Stories

But Kate’s too fired-up to notice. Glitch is a video livestreaming app that she downloaded to her laptop, because once she actually went through a wannabe-online-streamer phase. It’s technically a livestreaming service but she changed the settings so it auto-archives any broadcast or, basically, any game for later viewing. Or at least for 10 days before being deleted. With luck, her video archive wouldn’t be zero. {Please God, don’t let it be zero.}

because they couldn't find a solution to a problem that had no logic. The First Starship: The Oakhaven’s Reach As the Feral Six returned to the locker room, exhausted but alive, Julian was already looking at a new blueprint on his HUD. "The Council is terrified," Julian said, a small, human smile playing on his lips. "They’re going to try to regulate us again. But it’s too late. The 'Glitched' tech we used in that arena... the fans saw it. They’re already hacking their own systems to replicate it."

“Uh. Seems like a tech glitch.” Tech glitch my ass. That message wasn’t in any event folder. Someone did this on purpose. My pulse is loud in my ears. I force myself to breathe in through my nose like my therapist taught me. Slow. Controlled. Like I’m not seconds away from crying in front of two hundred people. “Skye?” My assistant Mia whispers from behind me. “Did you—” “No.” My voice is steady. Weirdly steady. “Kill the screen.” The lights flicker. The screenshot disappears.

But Ethan wasn't done milking the drama yet. Taking full advantage of the viral algorithm, he immediately jumped back onto his account to drag me through the mud again, this time weaponizing the glitch from the Brighton Tech presentation. He set up his ring light, stared dead into the camera, and flashed a punchable, smug grin at his viewers.

Even the bug fixes matched mine. Something was seriously wrong. That was when a voice, low and sharp, cut right into my ear. "Kelsey, are you snooping through my code?"

Everything was perfect. Until the lights flickered. It started as a minor glitch, a split-second dimming, barely noticeable. But then it happened again, sharper this time. The music stuttered. The floating holograms glitched, their perfect forms rippling into distortion. Gloss’s head snapped toward me. “Power surge?” “Impossible. The generators are isolated from the grid.” The crowd began to murmur, confused. I signaled the tech team, who scrambled backstage. I checked the console built into my wristband, scanning for interference. The readings spiked.

I put down my chips and gulped down a bottle of Earl Grey tea to calm down. When I looked back at the screen, Jennifer was lying in a pool of blood. Gavin was beside himself with excitement, scooping up her blood with empty water bottles. He kept muttering, "Can't let it go to waste, can't let it go to waste!" This time, it was not me on the menu, it was Jennifer. I quickly saved a copy of the video. Even though the internet was spotty, I managed to video call Gavin. He was thrilled to see me okay and could not wait to show off his latest wins.

Then, bizarrely, it twitched. The red eye flickered to green. Then blue. Then back to red. It spun in a circle, as if confused, and then flew off in the wrong direction, slamming into a distant smokestack. CRUNCH. It spiraled down into the fog. Ren watched it fall. "Did you see that?" Leo whispered. "It glitched." "Yeah," Ren said, a slow realization dawning on him. "It glitched hard." Ren looked at the smoking wreckage in the distance.