Humanoid Glados Novels & Stories

Chapter 102 - Slowly, Dorin’s eyes opened. The first thing he saw was a tall man with flowing gold hair and golden eyes, smiling at him. He was well build and slightly bronzed with the bright sun shining behind him, yet he can clearly see his calm face and the gentle look in his round eyes. “Who...” The man held out a hand. As he touched it, he suddenly remembered where he was, and once again, he was face to face with the hooded oracle with the cold, bony hands.

The hum of generators. And in the center of the frame, the same coordinates she’d decoded glowed faintly on a metal door. A hand reached into view—metal fingers, the skin too smooth, the movements too precise. They pressed to the scanner. The door slid open. Inside, pods lined the walls—transparent, humming. Each one pulsed with light. Shapes floated inside. Humanoid. Half flesh, half machine. Her stomach turned. Then the feed zoomed on one of the pods. V.E.L-01

The belly of the craft hissed open. A single figure stepped out onto a lowered ramp, floating effortlessly down to the ground. It was a human. Or at least, it used to be. The emissary was clad in a flawless, tailored suit of white synthetic silk that seemed to repel the dust and grime of the square. His eyes were entirely silver, lacking pupils or irises—advanced cybernetic optical replacements. A faint, glowing blue interface port rested at his right temple. He looked around the barricaded square, his silver eyes landing on the mud-covered Ironheads, the gutted luxury stores, and finally, on the massive, scarred chassis of the Vanguard Behemoth.

“You talking about the blue one right? 50 thousand.” “50 thousand? Come on he’s obviously been scrubbed, isn’t that way too much?” Sol’s protests irks the salesman. But he keeps his cool, knowing she didn’t mean it out of insult. At least that’s what Sol hopes as she pictures running to the nearest cover spot as shes pelted by every smg wielding Triad in the room. Leyl would probably get out, he had way more armor mods under his skin than she did. “It’s Thelma-Dionis. It’s got an adaptive AI, basically near sentient. You could strap other mods to this, give it a jetpack, security protocol, hell you could even give it at least five different personalities. This fucker is capable of being your

They slammed into the frozen harbor, embedding themselves in the ice and the stone of the lower city. They hit the ground with the force of meteorites. Steam hissed from the impact craters. The pods opened. They were not human soldiers. They were not beast kin. They were tall, mechanical constructs made of brass and glass. Their chests glowed with a volatile, unstable orange light. They had four arms, each wielding a superheated plasma blade. "Automatons," Kaelen gasped, backing away from the edge. "My father's personal guard. They do not feel pain. They do not retreat. They are programmed with a single directive."

He looked at Sereia. She stood perfectly still, her eyes rolled back into her head, her skin glowing with a terrifying, oscillating light that shifted from emerald to gold. She was a System under Stress, her human heart beating with a frantic, irregular rhythm that he could hear even through the hum of the siphons. A group of System Sentinels—smaller, faster versions of the ones from the Sub-Directory—began to materialize from the hangar walls. They didn't have obsidian face-plates; they were made of pure, translucent glass, their hands shaped into jagged blades.

She was facing a semi-circle of figures emerging from the shadows of stacked shipping crates. They weren't the skeletal dead of the Labyrinth. They looked human at first glance,men and women in tactical gear,but their proportions were distorted. Their limbs were too long, their skin a translucent, sickly gray, and their eyes glowed with a familiar, sickly green light. They smelled of Asmodeus, but the power was different,synthetic, amplified, and cold.

Abandoned Lab – Geneva Woods The facility was a cathedral of silence, with nature slowly reclaiming its metal skeleton. Ivy snaked over shattered windows. Rust wept from bolted doors. But inside, something unnatural pulsed with light. A group of six mercenaries, dressed in paramilitary black, moved through the corridors. “Target chamber’s below,” one said into a headset. “Command says package is alive.” They reached the main chamber—and stopped cold. Inside the containment pod stood a humanoid form, sleek and unfinished. Genderless. Skin-like alloy. Eyes closed.

3. I slowly went near to the glass capsule and waited for Aiden 2.3 humanoid robot to wake up from his deep and long slumber while Chairman Alberto was busy carefully opening the capsule. The moment Chairman fully opened it was the time the shakes in my body intensified. "I am Aiden 2.3 of Gomez Robotics," after saying his auto-generated line under his monotonous and digitized voice, his eyes turned deep blue like a hologram indicative of he's already activated. Aiden 2.3 lifted himself up and exited the glass capsule and faced me.

They didn't even have faces. They were humanoids composed entirely of shifting, razor-sharp geometric glass and flowing lines of crimson binary code. They had no weapons, no armor, and emitted no spiritual pressure. To the cultivation world, they would be invisible. But to Scarlett’s cosmic gold eyes, they were glaring, lethal anomalies. "Target acquired," a voice broadcasted. It didn't speak in the air or the mind. It transmitted directly into the foundational code of the planet. "Rogue Weaver identified. Initiating Sector Formatting. Erasers deployed."