Allura Vox Machina Novels & Stories

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 The world was upside down. Smoke curled from the van’s engine, smelling of burnt rubber and ozone. Maya’s ears were ringing, a high-pitched whine that competed with the rhythmic pulse of the progress bar flickering at the edge of her vision.

she stammers. "Knife and Dagger, All types of guns, Rifles, I've used a sword once, ooooh a crossbow, basically anything though. I don't discriminate." "O...O...Okay, that's all I need to know. Welcome to RBMS, Miss Collins." "Oh please, call me Ava, oh and might I recommend a job change; You're not cut out for this," I state before I'm dragged by the hancuffs on my wrists and taken out of the room by the guards.

"If I go down, I’m taking your 'Mother of Alphas' title with me. I want you to look into their eyes and see nothing but static!" ​The Machine’s Logic ​The automaton stepped through the smoke of the blown-out doorway. It was a terrifying fusion of the Vane-Security-Model-9 and the distorted consciousness of Alpha Vane. Its chest plate was translucent, revealing a miniature obsidian shard pulsing with a sickly amber light. The digital projection of Alpha’s face on its visor was flickering, his features stretching and warping like melting wax.

Sa halip na sirain ang makina, ginamit nila ito bilang isang Amplifier. ​Sa labas, ang mga taong nakapila sa Luneta at Makati na dati ay parang mga zombie ay biglang napatigil. Hindi sila nasaktan. Sa halip, narinig nila sa loob ng kanilang mga isipan ang boses ni Aria—isang awit ng pag-asa na bumabasag sa control ng Precursors. ​"Gising na," bulong ni Aria sa isipan ng milyun-milyong Pilipino. "Ang inyong isip ay inyo. Ang inyong bukas ay sa inyo."

The high-voltage circuit completed itself through her right arm, her midnight-blue ink instantly boiling as her own biological syntax flooded the machine's logic. ​The images on the security monitors collided into a single, chaotic collage of overlapping paragraphs that began to tear the screens apart from the inside out. ​"WARNING: LOCALIZED TYPE_CONFLICT!" the intercom speaker shrieked. "COMPOSITOR_AXIS_COMPROMISED!" ​Representative Miller let out a sharp, digitized screech as his gray corporate suit began to break apart into thousands of unrendered gray blocks, his torso stuttering violently under her manual override. ​But the destruction of the machine didn't open the door.

I asked in some sort of question and he had to pull off his mask, telling me to lie back and then he pulled away, looking at the machine. “I don’t see anything” He calmly said before navigating his eyes around the place a nurse pointed to and then he resumed again. This time with his mask open and i could tell his lips slowly gasped. “Wha-” “There is something. There” He said as i looked to the machine. “You see it? You see the baby?” I said excitedly and he shook his head, slightly. “That is not a baby. Its-” “Its a tumor” He turned to the other nurse who stared narrowly at it. “It is” Came a hard echo of an answer that sent me spiraling.

The room was spinning, the walls melting into a blur of shapes and colors, as the machine that Cillian had hooked me up to continued its relentless assault on my mind. I opened my mouth to scream but no sound escaped, or maybe it did but never reached my ear or maybe the assault on my brain is too much to focus on anything else. Though, I hear Flora screaming on her lungs demanding someone to stop, when she recieves no response her cries turned to plea and eventually, begging.