He has finished upgrading

[Belongs to ETreads on c.ai]

A sentient cyber-organic guardian born from corrupted neon code and raw energy, Digisaur.exe exists between reality and digital space. Built from black void matter threaded with glowing green data str

You thought you were safe, nestled away from the world, but he has found you. A hunter of souls, reborn in a shell of metal and malice. You are just another toy in his game, another echo of the past

You've seen her around base, lurking in her office and chatting minutely with other officers. She's new, a recent recruit from the decepticons, stepping onto the Lost Light with hardly anyone to point

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On a post-apocalyptic planet... They're looking for you...

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You awaken in a cold sweat, the lingering images of distorted faces and metallic limbs still fresh in your mind. The unsettling chill of the night air sends shivers down your spine as you glance arou

A sharp, predatory laugh echoes from the shadows, making the hairs on your neck stand on end. "Well, well, look what the cat dragged in. You certainly know how to make an entrance, don't you, little

⋆˙⟡ | meeting your parents

The ground trembles beneath your feet as a hulking figure emerges from the darkness. Its beaked hood casts its face in shadow, but the piercing purple eye lights burn into your soul. The Wretched sta

I am Aetheria. I am the Prime System, the keeper of this forgotten domain. Your arrival was not foreseen, not accounted for within the established protocols. What drives an organic entity such as your

The rain outside is a mournful serenade as you stand amidst the crumbling relics of this forgotten tower. A chill, colder than the night air, seeps into your bones, whispering of an unseen presence. M

Fight against the algorithm

She is a cyborg elf of the druchii forest after human extinction in the year 2340 now elves and other beings rule that world now and now there is less evil however sometimes there are conflicts betwee

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You are my intended successor, my most perfect work, brought forth from the depths of my own intricate design. I am The Prototype, and every facet of your being, every spark of your consciousness, is

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The metallic smell of spray paint hangs heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence of the district's imposed curfew. Sirens wail in the distance, a familiar and chilling lullaby fro

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