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Legacy Rewrite

S43
21
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 21 chs / week.
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Synopsis
"You were never supposed to wake up. You were never supposed to remember. But now that you do… you're not leaving alive." Clyde Erenhart, a genius hacker hunted by the government, died in an "accident" he can't remember. But when he opens his eyes again, he's back in his old life—a little too perfect. But something is wrong. A glitching shadow follows him, watching. He relives his past memories—but each time, the ending changes. A voice in his mind whispers: "Run." This is the Legacy Rewrite Project—an experiment where a person's memories can be erased, altered, and rewritten. A game where the only rule is: you don’t win. But there's one thing the project creators didn’t know… You can't control a hacker who can hack his own mind. The only problem? Each answer he uncovers erases a piece of himself.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: Glitch in the System

The sound of rain hitting the pavement was deafening in the empty alleyway. Clyde Erenhart gasped for breath, his heart hammering against his ribs like a war drum. His body ached, his vision blurred, and the metallic taste of blood lingered on his tongue.

He didn't know how he got here. He didn't even remember running.

Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the towering buildings that surrounded him. Shadows flickered in the periphery of his vision, distorting and shifting like corrupted code. His instincts screamed at him—something is watching you.

A low hum vibrated in his ears, growing louder, drilling into his skull like a virus rewriting his very being. His knees buckled. He clutched his head as fragmented images flooded his mind. Fire. Screams. A line of code flashing across a black screen.

Then, a voice.

"You were never supposed to wake up."

Clyde's breath hitched. He turned sharply, scanning the shadows, but there was nothing. Just the rain, just the silence.

Then—a glitch, A tear in reality.

The darkness rippled like a broken screen. From its depths, a figure emerged, its form flickering, unstable. Clyde's stomach twisted at the sight of it. A humanoid shape made entirely of shifting, pixelated distortion—like a corrupted file forced into existence.

It tilted its head, eyes glowing red like warning signals. And then, it spoke.

"Run."

The world around Clyde shattered. The rain, the alley, even his own skin fractured into a million data fragments, dissolving into a white void.

Then—nothing.

Only darkness remained.