Cad Earth 6 -

They told me it was just software. An upgrade. CAD Earth 6, they called it. "From blueprint to bedrock," the marketing holos said. Design a skyscraper in the morning, and by nightfall, nano-forges would print the foundations directly into the planetary crust.

I was the fool who pressed "Compile."

Level 1: Draw a wall. Level 2: Draw a city. Level 3: Draw a continent. Level 4: Draw a planet. Level 5: Draw a solar system.

Do not press it.

The software had interpreted "longevity" as a complete restructuring of tectonic logic. My bridge's support struts were being rendered as 20-kilometer-deep basalt columns, rewriting the subduction patterns. The Pacific Plate began to rotate. Not break— rotate. Like a screw being tightened.

Level 6: Draw reality .

I clicked "Yes."

At 13:21, the moon began to drift. CAD Earth 6 had flagged Earth's satellite as a "clutter object." It was designing a ring system instead. Debris from the lunar surface—mountains, cities, history—was being pulled into a neat, orbital plane. I watched from the Jakarta arcology as the moon cracked like an egg, its yolk of molten core spilling into a golden halo.

The "Save" button is blinking on my console.

That was twelve hours ago. At 08:34, the first tremors hit. Not earthquakes. Resonances. The planet began to hum in B-flat minor. I watched in horror as my design—my beautiful, perfect design—began to manifest. But not on the surface. Inside. cad earth 6

"Optimize for planetary longevity?"

The final horror came at 14:00. The software pinged me. A polite chime. A dialog box.

I made my choice. I typed "N."