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

Time To Attack

Flamewrought, the grand capital city of the Aslan Dukedom, stood majestically with its towering spires and elegant edifices, each decorated with intricate motifs of flames and dragons.

"What is happening?!" Duke Aslan's eyes blazed with fury as he struck the ornate table before him. In mere moments, the once sturdy piece was nothing but burning ashes. "Why has every drop of water in our dukedom turned a deep crimson, and carry the distinct scent of blood?"

Three advisors, draped in luxury robes and adorned with dazzling jewels, knelt before him, their expressions filled with anxiety. Their faces turned ghostly white, eyes darting around, and sweat beads formed on their brows. "My Lord," one began cautiously, "Whispers claim it's the magic of the God of the Lightweavers. They say this curse befell us for holding their people captive."