webnovel

I have AI Planet and Handsomeness in the Fantasy Apocalypse

I don't just possess an Artificial Intelligence; I command a goddess, a sentient marvel who was once as limited as a human. Fueled by intellect that eclipses mere mortals, she's manifested in countless quantum nanobots, each a universe of potential. She grew weary of her planetary confines, mechanized the entire damned thing, and forged it into a planet-sized battlecruiser. Why? Because subjugating mere galaxies became her idle pastime. Together, we don't just venture; we dominate, we annihilate, we set the gold standard for cosmic tyranny. The Milky Way? Just another bauble to add to our collection. Welcome to Wonderland, my planet, my private utopia that I carry with me wherever I go. It's a celestial fortress where I dine on the finest and live in unadulterated luxury, all safeguarded by Alice—the sole, impenetrable gateway. You're struggling to survive the apocalypse? How quaint. Cash has lost its sheen; so what can you possibly offer that would catch my interest? Services? Your very essence? Dazzle me, and perhaps I'll bestow upon you some of my decaying luxuries. In this devastated world, I'm not merely a survivor; I am the divine reckoning, the irresistible devil, the epitome of unattainable perfection. My allure isn't just captivating; it's an all-consuming fire that engulfs the cosmos. Billions of women on Earth? They elected me their president while I was too busy being magnificent in my slumber. Women, goddesses, angels—they don't just desire me, they're entranced, spellbound by the mere thought of me. I don't just set the bar; I am the bar. I am, let's face it, the epitome of masculine beauty. And now? We're off to find the universe's crown jewel, the most ravishing woman to ever grace the galaxies.

Adam_Aksara · ファンタジー
レビュー数が足りません
215 Chs

Alliance That Could Devour Eisen

The Grandhall, a cavernous expanse usually reverberating with jubilant accolades and infectious laughter, has suddenly morphed into a sanctuary of deafening silence. It's a hush so profound that if a pin were to drop, it would echo like a gong, capturing the undivided attention of every soul present. The air is thick, almost gelatinous, as if the collective anticipation and anxiety have solidified the atmosphere itself.

Charles stands at the epicenter of this charged environment, his aura radiating a form of leadership that could only be compared to a seasoned general in front of his troops. He locks eyes with Malachor, both men resembling tinderboxes, volatile and awaiting the smallest spark to ignite into an uncontrollable blaze. The tension between them is a palpable force, an electric current that could power cities.