Mechanical God Emperor Novels & Stories

Debris and freezing wind, as well as an overwhelming, draconic pressure, crashed down from above. A tall figure descended. Golden hair, golden-slitted pupils, and scales faintly emerged across the figure’s body. His features were sharp, cold, and utterly inhuman. He was the Dragon Emperor. He stood amid the ruins, his gaze like a blade, locking directly onto the golden tail around my ankle. My brain was completely short-circuited. The next second, a small, golden figure shot up from the bed. The little guy transformed mid-air into his dragon form—a small, golden-scaled dragon—and blocked the opening.

He didn't want the mechanized, unfeeling violence of the old empire tearing into the bedrock. "The earth hates the machines, Grandmaster," the old laborer told me, his soot-stained face illuminated by the flickering light of the subterranean torches. "Machines don't bleed. They don't sweat. They don't pay the toll. If we want the magma to accept our anchor, we have to carve the path with our own hands." We were standing in the deepest sub-level of the Emperor’s old palace vault. It was a massive, cavernous room of solid granite, originally designed to hold the royal gold reserves. Now, it was the staging ground for the Aethelgard Drop.

"Ezra..." In the dream, I pushed in, thrusting deep and filled him. Bred him. Pumped my seed inside until it dripped out. Marked him. Owned him. His body shook under me. Hands clawing the sheets. But he pushed back—fuck, he pushed back wanting more. I wanted to break him. In the dream. In real life. Bend him until he knelt. Breed him until he worshipped and called me god. I stroked harder, my fist tight and balls drawing up. I imagined pinning him down, spreading his legs wide and fucking him raw. Until he bled. Until he cried. Until he begged for my cum. "Breed me," he'd say. "Make me yours."

“We can’t fight this! We need to find a way out before—” The ground beneath their feet cracked open, and the sky above seemed to darken. The rebels, once organized, scattered in panic, realizing too late that they were all part of a much larger plan than they had ever known. And at the center of it all, the masked figure stood, his arms raised high as if commanding the very earth beneath them. “This is your end, Kael,” the figure called, his voice rising above the chaos. “The empire has already been destroyed. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

Control. Now I had all three. And ten years alone with them. Veylor’s deep, commanding voice cut through the roar of the waves with unshakable authority. “The only person capable of entering the Void without succumbing to its Miasma is the Emperor himself,” he began. “His essence was forged from the Void, shaped from its raw chaos. The Miasma recognizes him as one of its own, and thus, he walks within it freely while others falter, enslaved, or destroyed.”

Odell who is one to be easily tempered, which the humans describe to have the quick temper of a human remains the God of war, as when it comes to fighting of demons, Odell is at the front line. Layland on the other hand is the God of illusions and compel, while Barak is the God of the four elements, and Darius, being the God of the underworld. Aside all that, it is known for each of the Gods to be blessed with strength, speed, and hyper senses. "And who says this is a joke, less at all useless?" Alec replies them. "Now if any of you can't answer the question, I will," Alec stares at them all.

I got up hearing his robotic voice. I smiled and curved onto my back. I felt uncomfortable. Gradually, I opened my eyes. Confusion engulfed me. Why was the roof seeming so low? Why were the walls covered with white clothes? I rubbed my eyes and stared around me. All I could see was the same white cloth covering me from all sides. "I want the blueprint ready before last evening." Duante! I heard him say, "Fix the meeting with engineers." Another order.

Wilbur sensed the powerful wave of spiritual energy in the Holy One and furrowed his brows. "You're at the Emperor level. I didn't expect that." The Holy One smirked. "There's a lot more you don't know about this world. I'd advise you to hand the holy weapon over before I get angry, or I promise you I'll keep my word and kill everyone in this building."

Instead, Una stood confused as to why Irkal reacted that way. The door opened and the Emperor entered. Una looked at the man intently as he entered the room, and the people in the room bowed down. The girl who had helped her to dress, Irkal, and the two men bowed down to their faces and shouted in chorus. "Long life, the Emperor; the blessings of the gods be on the kingdom of Slosalia," they said, and they all stood up. "Leave us," Asalan Enlim says, dismissing them all.

He corrected. "Yes, of course, you are." "According to the book of Gods. Throne Gods are the strongest. One of them is the 4th seat, Dragon. The God of Truth! He knows all the Truth!" She explained. "You mean anything?" He asked. "Yes..." Then Jackolsha continued... "Emperor Dragon is different than other Gods. We call him emperor as he is the strongest. He knows all the truth. Your weakness and so on. No one can defy him. He is also called as deception..."