Glados Novels & Stories

Selene winked. Alessia stepped forward. “When can we depart?” “Now,” the emissary said. Solaris Palace gates slid open. Dawn had fully risen now, bathing the courtyard in warm gold. Two Lunaris wind gliders awaited them—sleek crescent-shaped vessels made of shadow-silver alloy. Rian gasped. “Those are—are those Lunaris hover gliders?!” Selene chuckled. “Yes. They ride moon currents instead of wind.” Eryx raised a brow. “Will they take all of us?”

"Not yet. There's something else, please don't freak out okay? You need to switch off the light for this one though " She did so immediately. "The sunglass. I hope I won't see your eyeballs longer or something. I can't take more of that" Ray mumbled. Holding my breath, I shut my eyes tightly and removed the very thick black glass. Then letting out a breath, I slowly opened my eyes. "Holy shit!" Rachel screamed stumbling backwards. The faint blue glow from my eyes brightened the room a little bit, but just enough for me to see the fear on her face, as she almost tripped on a chair behind her while getting away from me.

I continued, a little irritated. “Olivia, calm down. We have a very IT savvy boy who loves to invent things useful to us as well. He’s made some glasses that he’s put a camera and microphone in. On one arm is the microphone and on the other the camera. I honestly tell you it amazed me to see that those glasses could do so much. I even had them tested, and no detector found the camera or microphone,” Frank told me. “Wow! How cool is that? Bravo!” I exclaimed in amazement.

Lachlan We arrive at the warehouse with a loft apartment on the top floor. It’s neat what they’re done with the place. From the large window at the front of the apartment, you can see the entire warehouse, even below. The glass link flooring I’m positive is bulletproof along with the windows, seeing as how this place belongs to Sidhe of the Death Kings.

It had affected the other woman hiding here too. “You’re awake, Gloria,” Raiden said indifferently. “Hiss!” Gloria inhaled a deep breath, her blade still pushed against Raiden’s neck. “Turn around.” Raiden turned around and they looked into each other’s eyes. As he looked at Gloria’s beautiful, mature face, he said, “Gloria, you should be thanking me for bestowing you with self-healing abilities that far surpass others. I’m not your enemy but him…” He pointed at Adrian.

The boy paused. Then stepped aside. Inside, the space was colder, lit with wall-mounted panels salvaged from old solar rigs. Machinery cluttered the corners—half-built drones, stripped weapons, cooling vents that leaked steam and oil. She emerged from the shadows like a spider. Madam Glitch looked like someone who had survived five different lives and didn’t like any of them. One arm was entirely mechanical, long fingers clicking against each other. Her face was lined, unreadable. A jagged coil ran from her left temple into a metal collar around her neck.“You brought something,” she said flatly.

Three massive figures stepped out. They were ten feet tall, clad in golden armor that shone like the sun. They wielded massive hammers and shields. They didn't look like monsters. They looked like angels. BOSS DETECTED: THE SERAPHIM. LEVEL: 99. TYPE: ANTI-VIRUS PROTOCOL. "They're hunting the glitches," Jax said, gripping his data-sword. "They delete anything that doesn't follow the script. They've already deleted the Merchant's Guild."

My breath slowed. “You built another one.” “No,” he said quietly. “I rebuilt it.” The words settled heavily. “For what purpose,” I asked. He looked at me, not defensive, not secretive, just certain. “For us.” The screen shifted again. A name appeared in elegant typography. The Gloss System. I blinked. “You named it after me.” “Yes.” “That is deeply sentimental.” “I am aware.” I walked closer, studying the interface more carefully. “This looks like an AI core,” I said slowly. “Predictive analysis, behavioral modeling, adaptive response patterns.”

​Nora stood in her dressing room, staring at a gown made of spun gold and crushed ink. ​Suddenly, the mirror in front of her didn't reflect her own face. It reflected the Obsidian Stylus, sitting on her vanity. But the stylus wasn't black anymore. It was Glowing Red. ​A message appeared on the glass, written in Kael Davis’s messy, "God of War" scrawl: ​[LIQUIDATE THE ESTATE. THE CO-WRITER ISN'T THE BOSS. THE READERS ARE THE DEBT. BURN THE SCRIPT OR LOSE THE SON.]

From the clinical grey phalanx, a figure emerged. He did not walk; he Synchronized his way toward us. He was draped in a cloak made of "Verified History," his skin the color of cold mercury, his eyes two unmoving gems of Absolute Compliance. It was the General of the Gilded. He held a Standard of White-Noise and Broken Wills, its banner etched with the names of every shifter who had traded their "Glitch" for a "Function".