Nier: Automata Chapter Select Novels & Stories

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That causes misfortunes around us. _______ KircheLeaf Arc 1: Enchatrix Race! _______ ~END of CHAPTER SEVENTEEN~

But then, I already thought that Nathan is right, and that makes rule number thirty for my manual: There are no rules at all. ---THE END---

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"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.

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⚔️ VENGEANCE ⚔️ (Death is the price!! ☠️) Chapter eleven (11) Authoress pov 🤍 Jasper already pass out and his friends already rush to him and sprinkling water on him, while Natasha was shouting, going up and down.

​It was the steady, rhythmic march of an automated army. ​Through the black volcanic steam of the lower arches emerged a three-thousand-strong legion of iron-plated automatons, their bodies constructed entirely of heavy zinc type-slugs and brass gears, their faces blank metal plates stamped with the exact alphanumeric codes Elara had spent three days screaming about in her delirium. At their head walked a towering, twelve-foot mechanical figure clad in the heavy velvet robes of a High Assessor, a massive pair of steel printing scissors clucking against his thigh with a sound like a guillotine.

progressive-markdown_:is(p,blockquote,ul,ol,h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6)]:pr-8"> _*]:min-w-0 gap-3 standard-markdown"> This is the last chapter. Not because the story ends — the story does not end, the morning keeps coming, the archive keeps growing, the function keeps being practiced by people who care whether the other person is fully received. Tomas will finish the founding archive. Breen's framework will be used. The function will travel to new places. New packs will read the eighth notebook and either recognize what it is or not. Those who recognize it will begin.

I sat at a heavy iron workbench twenty feet away, drafting the neural-interface schematics. "The chassis cannot be controlled by levers or steam-hydraulics," I explained to Elara, who was meticulously reviewing my blueprints under the harsh glare of an oil lamp. "It’s too slow. If I am fighting a Leviathan, a half-second delay in mechanical translation will get me crushed."