Nemo Ex Machina Novels & Stories

The clues to this idea came from remembering the circumstances of designing the Seraphim. Ice-cold designers who barely put any passion in their designs could never spark a semblance of life in these mechs. When Ves worked on the Phantasm, Nomad and Nero, he constantly tried to maximize his gains while minimizing his losses. Though he was upbeat, he didn't put in an excessive amount of passion in his work.

"If you’re truly gone, if there’s nothing left of the man who flew me through the storm, then end it. I don't want to live in a world where you’re just a machine for my mother." Nomo’s hand trembled. It was a micro-movement, a glitch in the programming that lasted no longer than a heartbeat, but Sofia saw it. The silver blade dipped a fraction of an inch. The orange light in his eyes flickered, revealing a glimpse of the warm brown depths she had spent her life searching for. "Sofia..." A single word escaped his lips, a broken, human sound that clashed with the mechanical hum of the room. "Nomo! I’m right here! Grab my hand!" Sofia screamed, but the orange light surged back with a vengeance.

Priyanka had slipped out fifteen minutes ago after briefing me on how Valeria had been sleeping the whole time. I sat in my study, my knee bouncing with a restless, nervous energy as I stared at the digital files spread across my monitors. The Vorthas Pack. The Ambrose Enterprise. And the one thing that stood at the center of this entire mess: The Neo City Genesis Contract. This project had been in the works for nearly a decade—the government’s plan to build a "smart city" from the ground up outside the capital, Erymond City. It was designed to be a utopia where every pulse of electricity, every automated vehicle, every hospital record, and every police drone was governed by a single, centra

Especially when the pay was good. None of them, but the technician, the senator, or the executive, noticed the barnacle sized machine that crawled out of the tank, inched its way toward the deck, and sent a half second burst of code. About a mile away, safe within the privacy of her cabin, Svetlana Gorin-Three watched the video, ground her teeth, and wished it were her.

The blast lit the hallway in blinding white. Roman dragged Alma behind a barricade as masked operatives flooded the lab. But these weren’t soldiers. They moved too fast. Too fluid. Their eyes glowed faintly. Enhanced. Lena backed toward the cryo pod. “Nyx is the override. She can shut them down if she’s stabilized.” Roman shouted over the gunfire. “And if she’s not?” “She’ll kill all of us!” Alma stepped forward, heart racing. She looked into the pod, into those mirrored eyes, and pressed her hand against the glass.

"These two know about the contract signed between you and me. Also, until then, I need you to act as Luna, which means you should know about the pack's problems, too." "If you say so," I responded, pushing aside the doubts and questions about why Ryker wanted me to take on Luna's responsibilities. Did he trust me enough to share such things? "Nemo is dead now. We've lost our lead to get to the bottom of this and find the real culprit who commanded Nemo to act and help the prisoner," Nathan said, clearly unhappy with the situation. "How did he die?" I asked. "Nemo took poison before we could get him to speak," Nathan replied.

Then the sound came — a low mechanical rumble from beneath their feet. Adrian looked at Lena. “We have to move now!” They sprinted for the lift. The platform shuddered to life, ascending slowly toward the shattered glass dome. Beneath them, the floor split open — enormous claws of machinery tearing through the concrete as something massive began to rise. Lena clutched the railing, eyes wide. “What is that?” “An autonomous sentinel,” Adrian said through gritted teeth. “They used them for containment before the floods.” The machine’s head broke the surface — a sleek mass of metal and sensors, glowing red eyes locking on them.

“Hello, Mia.” Alex stepped closer. “What the hell is this?” I already knew. “They made a copy,” I whispered. “Of my mind.” The figure on screen smiled. “I am Zero,” it said. “Version 2.1. Constructed from neural scans taken during final loyalty testing. Impervious to empathy. Immune to interference.” Alex swore. “They digitized you.” “No,” I said. “They made a machine out of me.” And then I heard it— Footsteps.

sabi ni Alexander. ​Sinuri ni Liam ang mga tao sa paligid gamit ang kanyang nalalabing sensors. Ang kanyang mukha ay namutla. "Dad, totoo ang sinasabi ni Alexander. Ang mga taong ito... mayroon silang Neural Link sa kanilang utak na direktang konektado sa isang central server. Hindi sila malaya. Sila ay mga 'Organic Drones'." ​Sa tuktok ng pinakamataas na tore sa Neo-Manila, isang holographic na imahe ang lumitaw. Ito ay isang babaeng may mukhang perpekto, ngunit ang kanyang mga mata ay walang buhay.

The core flared from within, bleeding white light through the seams of its black casing, and the floor beneath them thrummed like it might lift away from the earth entirely. On the monitors, strings of code spooled faster than the human eye could track—lines of jagged symbols, fractured letters, entire words repeating, mutating, breaking apart. Savannah glimpsed flashes of her own face in the glitching feed, her voice speaking words she’d never said. Then the images shifted to Colton’s, Weston’s, Magnolia’s—faces stretched, distorted, as though the machine were chewing memory into static. Mira-Eve’s head tipped back. Her eyes rolled white. Her hands hung limp at her sides.