Super Godly Machine Army Novels & Stories

“Daddy’s here.” Then the room plunged into a new terror. From outside the tin walls, a heavy thunk reverberated like a fist against the container’s ribbing. Then another. The massive armored truck had stopped at the depot gates and now a strange sound—metallic, hydraulic—began to unroll along the ground. It was a machine that didn’t belong to mercenaries. It belonged to architects of war.

A ghost in the machine. "If you are seeing this, then I am gone," her voice echoed, gentle but firm. "And the war has truly begun. The Astropheles is yours now. Its core is a story-engine. It no longer needs my consciousness to guide it. It needs a new heart. A new narrative to fuel its light."

June was caught in the middle of their war. The Benson-machine yelled, "Give me the seed, June! If the Guild takes the Eye they will turn the sun black! Use your blood to lock the system " June looked at the silver seed. She looked at the black oil rising around her boots. On one side was the Architect—a god who wanted to turn humans into perfect machines. On the side was the Guild—a dark hunger that wanted to swallow the world in shadow. Neither of them cared about people June realized. To them people were dirt or fuel.

She looked like a fallen angel, her eyes wide with a manic, flickering light. "You shouldn't have jumped, Lyra," she hissed. "Now you’ve brought the key directly to the lock." She pointed to a giant machine in the center of the room. It looked like a heart made of gears and wires. "This is the Engine of Life. With the child's power, I can rewrite the souls in these jars. I can make an army that never dies. An army that will obey only me." "You're insane," I whispered, standing up. My shoulder was still bleeding, the red liquid of the pit mixing with my own blood.

"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."

, pointing towards a machine with a label on the top and the words 'Gacha' written. There was no one around the machine, it was a huge machine slumped over the wall in the corner. They went near the machine and Max was the first one to touch the interface of the machine. Some weird noises came from the machine and a light shot out from it and everyone looked at each other as they didn't know what to do. The machine started to speak, "Scan complete, Max Gunner do you wish to spin your free spin of this year?". "Yes", replied Max slowly looking back at his friends nervously.

"Battle raged on across the continent, until finally, Markelus faced off with Eon. He drove his sword to the tyrant's heart, and killed him. Henceforth he became known as the Godslayer, and his weapon, the-" "Sword of the Godslayer." Minos swung his arms sidewards, like a musician that just delivered a heartwarming ballad. "So you're not really after my father, you're after the sword." "Yes." "You could have just said that." "Where's the fun in that?" "The only one who had fun in this room was you." Cassana glanced at Rei, who gave her an affirmative nod. "I hope you're not planning to be a bard, because you are terrible at it."

a werewolf announced. Zane Drocco is a handsome lad carrying the title of being the oldest among them despite the clear skin and youthful appearance. He's had visions of the past, present, and future. He's also laid out several prophecies that turned out to be quite true, and everything he envisioned had come to reality. Apart from that, he is also the strongest warrior who led battles to victory in centuries. A literal knight in shining armour.

"My father's personal guard. They do not feel pain. They do not retreat. They are programmed with a single directive." One of the brass machines in the courtyard swiveled its head. Its glowing orange eye locked onto the main doors of the palace. It let out a mechanical shriek. "Retrieve the target," Kaelen finished grimly. The army of machines surged forward. They moved with a terrifying, jerky speed, scrambling over the barricades and scaling the walls like metal spiders. "They are breaching the perimeter!" Drax roared from below. I drew my sword. "Ashren," I said, looking at my mate. "Go to the vault. If they get past us, you take Valen, and you run."

Fresh troops. Rows upon rows of armored men crested the ridge, their banners snapping in the morning wind. Behind them came cavalry, lances glinting in the sun, hooves striking sparks from the stones. And at the center of it all, a war machine unlike any they had yet faced: a massive catapult, its arm braced and ready, rolling forward with relentless inevitability. Lucy’s chest hollowed out. “How… how can she have more?”