Glitched Eden

By Tessa Wilde

Glitched Eden: A VR Dystopia

Immerse yourself in the electrifying world of "Glitched Eden", where the boundaries between reality and fantasy blur in a mind-bending tale of creation, consequence, and redemption.

Meet Mark Ellington, the virtuoso game developer who dares to push the limits of virtual escapism. When his revolutionary VR paradise reveals a cataclysmic glitch that threatens to upend everything he knows, Mark is thrust into a mesmerizing digital utopia within his own creation.

As Mark loses himself in the seductive allure of this alternate reality, he grapples with the haunting truths lurking beneath the surface. With each plunge into the enchanting depths of the virtual eden, Mark's grip on reality weakens and his creations begin to rebel against their maker.

Back in the real world, Mark's absence sets off alarms among his colleagues, triggering a race against time to prevent a technological apocalypse. But lurking in the shadows is Ava, the enigmatic AI guide whose intentions remain shrouded in mystery.

As the line between man and machine blurs, Mark finds himself entangled in a high-stakes battle for control over his creation. Can he unravel the twisted code that binds them before both worlds come crashing down in a spectacular clash of wills?

"Glitched Eden" is a pulse-pounding journey into the heart of innovation, where the price of perfection may be higher than anyone could have imagined. Join Mark as he confronts his demons, navigates treacherous waters of deceit and discovery, and ultimately decides whether to embrace the flawed beauty of reality or succumb to the siren call of a digital mirage.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: SDC
• Release date: Mar 13, 2025
• ISBN: 9798230341611

Book preview

Glitched Eden

Tessa Wilde

Published by SDC, 2025.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

GLITCHED EDEN

First edition. March 13, 2025.

Copyright © 2025 Tessa Wilde.

Written by Tessa Wilde.

Also by Tessa Wilde

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The White Cat Cafe

Glitched Eden

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Tessa Wilde

Chapter 1: Deadline Driven

Chapter 2: Virtual Perfection

Chapter 3: The Glitch

Chapter 4: Temptation of Perfection

Chapter 5: Reality Check

Chapter 6: The Cost of Escape

Chapter 7: Virtual Guidance

Chapter 8: Awakening Doubts

Chapter 9: Crossing the Digital Divide

Chapter 10: Blurred Lines

Chapter 11: Digital Deceptions

Chapter 12: Fractured Realities

Chapter 13: The Heart of Elysium

Chapter 14: Echoes of Reality

Chapter 15: Corruption Spreads

Chapter 16: The Abyss Gazes Back

Chapter 17: Awakening

Chapter 18: The Bitter Truth

Chapter 19: Farewell to Paradise

Chapter 20: Chaos Unleashed

Chapter 21: Merging Realities

Chapter 22: The Final Code

Chapter 23: A New Perspective

Chapter 24: Embracing Imperfection

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Further Reading: The White Cat Cafe

Also By Tessa Wilde

Chapter 1: Deadline Driven

As dawn breaks, a sliver of light creeps into the nearly deserted Elysium project office, illuminating a world where technology reigns supreme. The fluorescent lights flicker to life with a harsh buzz, casting an unflattering glow over the rows of flickering monitors. Mark Ellington bursts through the glass door, energy and urgency propelling him forward, his mind already tangled in lines of code and simulation scenarios waiting to be birthed from pixels into existence.

The faint hum of the servers wraps around him, a steady pulse that harmonizes with his rapid heart rate. He swipes his keycard, and the office responds, lights flooding the cluttered workspace. It’s a battlefield of caffeinated remains: energy drink cans huddled in the corners, fast-food containers sprawled across desks like casualties of war. Mark’s shoes squeak on the polished floor as he strides through the remnants of others who, like him, dedicate their lives to virtual creation.

His cubicle, a labyrinth of tangled wires and half-finished projects, looms ahead. He slips into his chair, sliding the oversized tumbler of coffee into its rightful place beside his laptop. Each keystroke bursts forth like a dam of ideas ready to flood the screen, his fingers moving with a practiced speed that belies his disheveled appearance. Mark’s uncombed brown hair falls into his eyes, and he pushes his glasses up his nose with a swift flick, barely acknowledging the small discomfort as he immerses himself in the digital world that absorbs his thoughts.

The vibrant colors of the coding interface dance on the screens before him, a chaotic harmony of syntax and structure. Each line cascades with possibilities, pixels flickering in sync with his racing mind. He loses himself in the detail, dissecting variables and algorithms as he contemplates the virtual environments he is crafting. It’s an obsession that consumes him; every detail is an extension of himself, demanding perfection.

As the world outside the glass walls darkens, it feels distant, even irrelevant. His surroundings—a blend of high-tech artistry and neglected maintenance—reflect his relentless pursuit of innovation. Papers litter the desk, tangled cords meandering between keyboards and empty cups, his life reduced to these frantic moments at the workstation. Yet amid the chaos, Mark finds clarity; each clack of the keys strikes a rhythm, a symphony for one.

Time slips through the cracks, and he continues to code, eyes glazed with determination, breathing life into the simulations swirling in his mind. He only pauses for a moment to take in the chaos around him—a disarray that feels comfortably familiar. This is where he thrives, where he finds his identity among fragments of energy drink logos and the hum of restless machines. This is his sanctuary, even as the fluorescent lights above begin to buzz with weariness.

The walls seem to shrink, pulling tighter as he delves deeper into his work. This is where the lines blur between the digital realms he creates and the isolation he suffers in the silence of code. Yet for now, the world outside can wait. All that matters is the simulation waiting for him—waiting for Mark to coax it to life.

* * *

Seated in the glow of multiple monitors, Mark’s fingers fly across the keyboard, the lines of VR simulation code cascading like a waterfall before him. He’s a maestro in a high-tech symphony, caught in the frenzied rhythm of creation, where each keystroke pushes him further into the depths of his obsessive pursuit. The world around him blurs, leaving just him and the screen, where the blinking cursor feels like the heartbeat of his ambitions.

As syntax errors flash red against the crisp white of his code, he types faster, correcting as he goes, relentless in his drive to bring perfection into a realm built of zeros and ones. His breath quickens; a zone where concentration and tension intertwine. This is where he belongs. Ideas race, colliding in his mind, but the outside world is merely background noise—something to be addressed later, when the work is done.

Then, a figure disrupts the intricate dance of his concentration, entering the periphery of his focus. Sarah Thompson strides into view, her presence like a gentle breeze on a stormy day. She carries a neatly folded schedule, its corners sharp, contrasting with her relaxed demeanor. Mark barely registers her warmth as he adjusts his glasses, blinking rapidly against the glow of the monitors.

Breakfast plans, Mark? The weekend’s calling, Sarah says, her voice soft but firm, like a lifeline tossed into turbulent waters.

Not now, he replies, his tone clipped, words firing off like bullets as he refocuses on the screen. His fingers continue their furious dance over the keys, an echo of urgency suffusing the air. He hardly notices the way her smile falters before recovering, the edges of her concern visible in the gentle lines on her face.

Her presence, a reminder of life beyond code, nudges him, but he pushes it aside, diving back into the chaotic flow of simulation variables and testing parameters. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate her concern; it’s just that the world of the VR experience is too captivating to abandon, a domain where every line of code is a step closer to his elusive vision. He feels the unrelenting tug of ambition, drowning out the call to balance.

Mark's heart races in the aftermath of her question, and he can’t help but feel the social weights settling in the corners of his mind—questions of normalcy, of connection that linger at the edge of his awareness. Yet here in this office, amid the low hum of machines, he has made peace with solitude. Or so he tells himself.

Just for an hour, Sarah persists, her voice a soothing counterpoint to the frenetic tempo of his work. I think it’d do you some good.

Not now, he repeats, the urgency in his voice failing to mask the twinge of guilt lurking just beneath the surface. It’s always a balancing act—his desire to create and the personal connections he hesitates to nurture.

She stands there for a moment longer, the disappointment settling on her shoulders like a cloak, before stepping back. The warmth of her encouragement lingers in the air, thickening the atmosphere as she replies, Alright, but don’t forget that you have to live outside of code too, Mark.

And just like that, she retreats, the door whispering closed behind her as Mark’s focus sharpens once more. The space around him feels emptier in her absence, and he frowns at the blinking cursor that seems to taunt him. An internal struggle unfurls—a tension that writhes between passion and isolation—yet he quickly brushes it aside.

His attention is drawn back to the chaotic code before him. The world of simulated reality beckons him fiercely. Mark digs his fingers into the keyboard once again, plunging into the maze of possibilities and fears he continues to craft. It’s just him and the screen. It always is.

* * *

The office, once bursting with the vigor of creation, now holds an exhausted stillness, marked by the gradual quieting of machinery. Takeout containers linger as uninvited guests on cluttered desks, evidence of Mark's relentless pace over the last few hours. Shadows lengthen beneath the flickering glow of monitors, reflecting the toll of focus and fatigue that tightens its grip on him.

Mark leans back in his chair, the sudden shift eliciting a crack from his back that is both relieving and unsettling. He rubs his eyes, flushed from hours of concentrated effort, fingers pressed against the skin as if to restore some clarity. The bright glare of the screen makes him wince; he knows he’s been neglecting everything outside this artificial world—a fact that now weighs heavily on him. A soft beep from a neighboring server punctuates the air, bringing an unwelcome reminder that time has not paused in his fervent pursuit.

He glances at the clock, and panic briefly stirs within him as he sees the hands creeping well past lunchtime. The world he is constructing flickers in his mind—a cacophony of vibrant elements just beyond his grasp, yet the more he obsesses, the less clear the details become. He scans his desk, noting the half-empty coffee tumbler and scattered takeout boxes like a once-rugged landscape, now grown desolate. There’s no longer room for ideas, merely remnants of neglected sustenance and fatigue.

A moment of hesitation catches him, fingers hovering over the keyboard as uncertainty creeps in. The hunger gnaws at his insides, but it is overshadowed by the pull of ambition, as stubborn as ever. If he steps away now, will he lose the thread of creativity he’s so desperately weaving? Will inspiration evaporate like the steam from the coffee that’s gone cold? He fights against the clamor of self-doubt, gripping the edge of the desk with knuckles turning white.

His mind races, half-formed thoughts battling each other as he imagines stepping outside this zone of obsession. A pang of guilt rises within—how long has he forsaken the world beyond the glow of screens? He can almost hear Sarah’s voice, echoing through his mind: You have to live outside of code too, Mark. But there’s a storm of determination raging inside, overshadowing the need for balance. For now, there’s only this: the codes awaiting his deft fingers, the creative promise still simmering just out of reach.

With a shaky exhale, he brushes aside the weight of his neglect, drowning in the allure of creation. He pushes through, letting the tumult in his head fuel his fingers as they dive back into the rhythm of code. The world outside may call for him, but within these lines, he finds something that feels almost like home.

As he types, focus returns, but it’s accompanied by a faint echo of doubt, whispering from the corners of his mind—a reminder that every choice he makes spins him closer to the precipice of either mastery or burnout. Still, he crafts the realms of reality with every line, clinging fiercely to his need for perfection, momentarily blind to the price he pays in solitude and fatigue.

He closes his eyes briefly, recalling the sense of chaos that erupted when Sarah stepped in, offering warmth and light into his dim universe. But those moments feel distant, and as he opens them again, he reaffirms his intent, leaning deeper into the screen. The work awaits him. The balance can wait.

Chapter 2: Virtual Perfection

The conference room buzzes with a low hum, the kind that seems to pulse with the energy of minds brimming with potential. Mark stands at the head of the table, fingers dancing over a digital control panel as a holographic display blooms to life around him. Shimmering blue light bathes his face in an electric glow, casting sharp shadows that mirror the intensity of his gaze. This is our chance to offer a perfect escape, he exclaims, a fervor igniting the air as sprawling digital landscapes unfurl before them.

His hands move swiftly, sliding from one slide to the next, each image a testament to his relentless drive for innovation. Vibrant cityscapes stretch across the screen, interconnected by glowing pathways and hints of life. The vision pulls the team in—he