Super Godly Machine Army Novels & Stories

The engine began to make a musical sound. The vehicle began to change. The black armor melted away. It was replaced by glass and silver leaves. It was not a tank anymore. It was a giant moving oxygen machine. The virus it is rewriting the metal Aris gasped. It is turning the war machines into machines that save lives. The masked man was very angry. He pulled a knife from his belt. It was a sharp blade. He lunged at Maya. He moved fast because he had computer chips in his body. Maya raised her silver arm to block him. The blade cut into her arm. She did not feel pain. She felt a spark of electricity. She grabbed the mans wrist.

It was Stephen's last shift and he was doing wonders cheering me up. I had just finished in a private booth when he waved me over. "Number four please!" He handed me a drink. I looked down and it was vodka. Straight. No ice. My stomach dropped as I walked over, my legs like jelly. As I got closer I saw it was him. At arm's length I put the drink down and turned. "Harper." "No." "Please," I felt him behind me and he grabbed my arm. "Please let me explain, I’m sorry I,”

"I come in peace and wish only a few hours to visit my friends." "Uncle Tahr, you must come and see my new machine," Ashrac immediately responds and I can't help but smile. In dragon form I'm sure my smile looks ferocious and this just causes my sharp teeth to spread further. Ashrac is a young teenager now and is fascinated with electronic devices that don't work in the dragon realms. It's the magic that keep them from doing whatever they were designed to do. Ashrac doesn't care. A few years ago, I brought him a circular robot that cleans human floors in the earth's realm. You would think it was a mountain of gold by how much he coveted the useless item.

Impossible but true. A voice over the military radio. His father. "Hello children. Miss me? While you were busy playing with aliens, I've been conscious. Aware. Planning. The Architects' freezing didn't work on digital consciousness. I uploaded before they caught me. I've been rebuilding. Recruiting. Creating." "Creating what?" "An army. Enhanced humans. Thousands of them. All loyal to me. All ready to take Hope. To use her. To force humanity's ascension on my terms. Not alien terms. Not your terms. Mine."

Just… absence. Jason’s hand tensed around his sidearm. Leah felt the hairs on her arms rise. The woman’s face was still, almost serene, but her stillness carried the weight of something inhuman wearing skin. And then Andrew’s voice rolled through the cavernous sub-basement, deep and laced with something like pride. “Observe, my dear Detective,” he said from somewhere above them, his words echoing off rusted steel and crumbling concrete. “Flesh and machine, perfectly merged. My greatest creation. My most beloved. The future free from the messy limitations of sentiment.”

"The Aethel-Group knows you can write the world, Kaima. That machine is designed to 'Erase' your writing as soon as you do it. It’s a giant, physical Undo button." As if to prove his point, the black steel wall began to flicker. The edges of the iron plates turned into grey mist, dissolving back into the dry dirt. The "Gold" I had poured into the ground was being sucked out by the machine's hum. The army was literally deleting my defense. "I have to write more," I said, reaching for the pen.

Small, sputtering steam-donkeys were mounted to its shoulders, spitting sharp bursts of gray vapor to stabilize the massive weight of the machine's limbs. Mounted to the exo-suit’s right forearm was a heavy, tri-barreled pneumatic rotary cannon. Standing inside the armored control cage of the machine was General Malvon, the supreme commander of the Iron Vanguard, his face scarred and rigid beneath his polished steel helm. "You brought a pack of wild dogs to an industrial slaughterhouse, Natalia," Malvon’s voice boomed through an acoustic brass horn mounted to the front of his armor. He did not waste time with a diplomatic warning. His hand yanked the primary firing valve on his control panel

"But we need to understand what we are creating. If we turn the packs into a mechanical army, and we turn the grid into a targeting computer... what happens when the war is over? How do we go back to being a people who feel?" Elias looked at the Master Methodology sitting on the far table. The book was closed. "I don't know, Aria," Elias admitted, his voice carrying the crushing weight of a twenty-four-year-old playing god with his species. "But if we don't build the machine, there won't be a people left to feel anything." The heavy oak doors of the archive slammed open. Kaden walked in. The possibility reader did not walk with his usual, measured gait. He was moving fast. His face was entir

Broken limbs and arms on the ground were bathed in the blood. Yalans, the violet-haired, silver-eyed First Elder, and Achilles, the War God. Achilles were followed by a group of golden-armored men. All of the members of the Ice Soul Clan were behind the Ice Soul, all of whom looked as cold as real ice. Even if being far away from them, Jason could feel the coldness on them.

“Only the three million Divine Army and the one hundred thousand Alcide powerhouses can battle against the Marauder Army of One Hundred Thousand Warriors and the eight million Wyrmscale Source powerhouses.” The Supreme War Saint squinted his eyes and then revealed a strange smile. “If you all follow my orders, I guarantee that you will achieve great merit here. Then, ascending to the rank of Holiness or path kings won’t be impossible.” Upon hearing this, Lazaro and the other two emperors’ eyes sparkled with excitement.