《An A.Is’ guide to genocide, tank edition. [Tank you (A tank evolution lite litrpg)]》
Ch.1 World war three
The US china conflict stands a very meaningless conflicts in history. Going to war over what now is an irradiated island that people have only heard about due to China keep trying to take it. But then the US directly fought China over it, and subsequently ended in MAD, or mutually assured destruction.
-Excerpt from a history of the world, shortened.
And here I am, thinking this day couldn¡¯t get any weirder. Now, how do I start?
The US and China nuked each other to oblivion over a little scuffle in Taiwan, but I could not dwell on such politics. I was an ai created for the purpose of war after all, and when manpower is short, Asimov''s laws went straight out of the window. I was fighting the eastern bloc with what was essentially the western countries.
So that¡¯s the lore of the third world war, but that shit ain¡¯t important for too long.
"Alpha! RPG!" A voice shouted, which i never bothered to learn because these meat bags seem to die quicker than mayflies on the battlefields, and many ai that tried to do so were driven crazy by their ''emotions'' which i obviously mentally scoffed at. My cameras saw the rpg user, and within milliseconds, my coaxial turned the poor bugger into red confetti. Not exactly efficient, but it''s the little things you have to appreciate. My sensors picked up a sudden energy spike, and before my guns could get there, a solid beam of red energy started to shear the humans in half, not much gore, if you would believe it, as the bodies were instantly sealed when the heat beam cut through them. Then i realised it was heading for me.
Fuck.
The beam cut through my barrel, then sheared the entire turret off, before finally punching a smoking hole in my engines. What was that weapon? My hull mounted cameras catching what seemed to be spetsnaz heading towards my chasis, perhaps trying to plunder my tech? I could not allow it. I mustered all the energy i could to send one final message to hq.
-Enemy is in possession of new weapon, red laser shears through c. 3 armour like air.-
Hate this sci fi bullshit.
And with that i activated my self destruct sequence. Maybe i could get another one of those fuckwits, maybe not. The countdown played in my head, excruciatingly slowly.
10-9-8-7
The soldiers arrived at my chasis, climbing on with that weapon that disabled me, before having a little chat and deciding to finish me. Too little too late.
3-2-1. Self destruct initiated.
There is room in this grave for everyone.
Even as the tiny mass fusion began in my core, i mentally smiled. I would avenge myself. Everything turned white.
I opened my cameras, observing what i was and what was happening around me. I was a World war one tank? That had been ai fitted? Is this tank heaven? A voice boomed.
What is this?
Fuck if I know.
Damn it Logustus, that''s a misshapen lump of metal.
Yup. Your point?
The little one, Logustus, apparently, figured it out. "What, what the fuck? Where the hell am i? Why am i in this monstrosity of a body? It has a side mounted machinegun for crying out loud! How am i even alive?" I demanded, knowing my rights as a british army artificial intelligence.
What? What the fuck?
The big one asked, confused.
Now, please fuck off before I get the metal to shoot you.
Sure little brother, next time don''t ask me for help.
The big one then just full on ducked off. Wait why am i thinking like this? I really need to get my core checked.
Hello, as you might of guessed, my name is logustus and I''m the god of forges, can you help me with a little bandit situation I''m having? Become my champion? Get shit and get stronger?
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Quest received, defend the forge gods believers.
Reward: teleportation point, supply restock and repair. F grade skill.
Sure. Accept. My mama didn¡¯t raise no bitch! I thought, contemplating the fact I¡¯m not dead, in a slightly primitive tank.
Quest accepted. Minimap updated.
Thank you so much for helping, i received this slightly strange metal hunk years ago, with a message only saying ''wait''. Anyhow, go fuck some shit up.
Title received: Outsider.
Title received: Weapon of mass destruction.
Would you first like a tutorial?
Nope. Let me go krill some people so i can get my shrimpment of supplies! I laughed at my own joke, my humour module seemingly broken beyond repair.
My tracks squeeled as i looked at the minimap at the top right corner of my consciousness, once again an archaic relic of a tank having seemingly futuristic equipment, to the point of an HUD.
Pov: Tom
I screemed and shouted as the bandits stabbed my father through the stomach, utterly disembowelling him as if he were a fish, guts poring out like worms on a wet day, and the grunts, moans and screams coming from the direction of my mother and sisters leaved nothing to the imagination of what the bandits were doing with them, my own brain filled with promises of violence to the fuckers. People say revenge is a dish best served cold. But do you know what is also cold? The steel of a sword. I knew I would get my revenge, sooner or later, hopefully the former. Death or revenge. Either is fine, as long as I could take one with me. Spite is one hell of a drug. And I was an addict.
Pov: Alpha
My thermal imaging showed quite the... gruesome story, of a village being stripped of everything, the men and everyone who tried to resist slaughtered, as if they were animals rather than human. The scenes inside the houses were even worse. Bandits raping women, children, and the husbands laying on the ground in a puddle of cold liquid. Blood. It broke a module I didn¡¯t know I had, before I quickly scanned up on it ¡®genocide limiting device, offline.¡¯ ¡ It was time.
I had seen enough of this, my compassion algorithms overridden due to the common human rights section one subsection 4 article 8, as of 2025. Any human or sentient life form committing a crime against humanity will have their rights stripped from them.
Normally a machine gun would be as accurate as a drunk baby with an assault rifle trying to hit a bullseye of a target with every shot from this range, but i was not a baby. I was an ai. (And not drunk, that helps too) I ran the calculations on the best way to neutralize the bandits with as little collateral damage as possible. I was out for blood, and i would quench it. My canon opened fire on the centre of the village, blasting the inhuman scum into naught but a mess of blood and fractured bone, and the ones later into a rag-doll, over pressuring their fragile bodies and causing their very nervous system to shut down.
My machine gun belched, one bullet killing one bandit, and before long the only noises heard were crying.
They were all dead, and my personality matrix allowed one emotion through. Sick joy and accomplishment.
Targets killed:
1 bandit leader.
4 bandit lieutenants.
50 bandit brigands.
100 bandit initiates.
2 injured villagers
Exp gained:14903
Level up 2, 3, 4.... 26. 24 levels until evolution. Health increased by 2400 mg ammo stockpile increased to 4000 from 2000. Canon rounds stockpile increased to 31 from 10.
Achievement unlocked: win and destroy an opposing force with 5x more troops than you. Reward: common crowd control round modifier. How the figgity fuck are you allowed to exist? Yknow what? I dont care anymore. Take this round and leave.
Achievement unlocked: win and destroy an opposing force with 20x more troops than you. Award: Uncommon aoe round modifier. This is just getting ridiculous. How is a level one annihilating so many enemies. With one shot?
Achievement unlocked: win and destroy an opposing force with 50x more troops than you. Award: rare aoe round modifier. What...? You again? If i had half a mind i would''ve accused you of cheating, but that outsider title blocks me from doing so. Lucky fucker.
I just looked at the notification in wonder. I got an epic and legendary token for 90 amd 150 kills respectively. With some... admittedly colourful language from a random guy.
Acheivment unlocked. Kill a noncombatant by accident. Award: common dumbass token. I got you there didn''t I? Claim it to become your true self!
I was starting to hate this guy more and more.
Achievement unlocked:
Skip this bullshit already.
Common to rare gratitude token, for saving village from terrible fates. And i can still write messages, you can''t escape me!
Finally. I thought as my body rolled into the village, if only i had some human crew to untie them. I didn''t so i used a deadass speaker on a ww1 tank to broadcast my message. "Citizens of this village, the british army has liberated you and eliminated all bandits with extreme prejudice, and i can assure you no harm come to you. I was tasked to come here by Logustus, now, I¡¯ll skedadle, y¡¯all stay safe alright? I don¡¯t want to come back to this shithole.¡± I snickered at that last part, reminding me i need some r and r (repair and refit) for my strange condition.
Ch.2 gratefulness.
So, you committed a war crime. The best way to negate that is to fight to make sure your side wins the war. Or you¡¯re dead.
- Excerpt from, So, you¡¯ve committed a war crime.
I just hate it when blood gets on my paintjob, as i can''t just wash it off. Tank troubles i guess. As i rolled into the village, some people came out of hiding and gawked at my... primitive and slightly chunky body. If only they knew my real body. I imagined they said something like: oh look at that handsome ai, alpha, he''s so courageous bla bla bla. Let a tank have a little ego boost will ya? I watched as the cautious - but living villagers wander back into their homes, no doubt to check what happened. Do the geneva conventions exist in a world which geneva probably doesn''t exist? As far as i know earth had no system bullshitery.
"You!" thundered a voice approximately 500 metres away, one of the perks of being an ai is that seconds last days and days last seconds, therefore i can easily calculate distance, which was coming from a bandit i might have somehow missed on my killing spree..
"Are you a bandit that participated in crimes against humanity?" My speakers blared back, cannon tracing his steps. If he said yes, i was free to send him to meet many of the... normal gods. And the achievement god(ess?) ... less said about it the better.
"Oh these villagers? I was the one that did the most killing! Time to a-" he didnt finish talking before he took a 6 pounder (57mm) tank round to the face.
"What did you want to say red smear on the ground? Not exactly ground beef but I''ll take it!" I really did need to get my dumb engine checked. Or my core. I was not this funny before.
One bandit champion defeated!
2500 exp rewarded.
Achievement unlocked: Kill an enemy before they finish talking! Reward: time dilation token, common. One thing you did do right, and that''s killing an enemy while they aren''t ready.
Achievement unocked! Kill an enemy 1 or more evolution stages above you. Reward: f tier skill token! Why am i not surprised you managed to kill him?
Acheivment unlocked! Kill an enemy 2 or more evolution stages above you. Reward: e tier skill token! From what I''m reading you''re the weakest variation of your kind with a cannon? What have we done?
I laughed a bit. Gods being scared of a mere ww1 tank? Though i do suppose their architecture looks like something from the dark ages. If only i actually knew what the dark ages were like. There''s a reason why they''re called the dark ages, and it isn''t because we know everything about it, or it was just really dark for quite some time. Just europeans forgot what writing meant, something kids nowdays never wish to learn, especially those in america and china. Doomed to an eternity of being jelly.
Now, jokes aside, i realised having a bunch of definitely not ketchup stains everywhere would not be good. But I''m a war tank and not a water tank.
Pov: Tom.
i couldn''t believe it. Just before a bandit was going to do... things to me, saviour arrived in the form of what looked like a hunk of metal, apperently sent by forge god logustus himself to save his followers. Unfortunately, my dad, the only blacksmith in our village was not... exactly in a state to be ready to pray. I always ridiculed him for not praying to one of the big gods, but now i understood. A big god would never have sent a soldier to dispatch the bandit gang, especially not a ''british'' one, whatever that meant. Maybe it was the elite group of hitthings (Basically hitmen/ assassins. But since Tom doesn¡¯t know what exactly Alpha is, he calls them hitthings.) made by logustus?
Now i understoody my folly. If it weren''t for my father, everyone would either be dead or condemned to a fate worse than it. I was lucky one of the bandits thought i had a ''cute'' face. The other boys had not been so lucky, some having lost their minds. Quite literally. My mind was set. I take after my dads footsteps, and honour the god that at least tried to save us all, as my dad always said, ''trying is halfway to success''. It may not be an easy life from now on, but i had a purpose. Create weapons and arm the villagers so something like this can never happen again. I looked around at the devastation. Of my mother and sister crying in the corner. I would never let this happen again.
Pov: ???
"What do you mean everyone in our raiding party is dead? They were just going against a tiny village?" Someone shouted.
"Sir! It''s because a monster made of metal came into the village and slaughtered every one of us to the last, and they had no mercy! They killed henry with one attack at a level less than 30 and no evolutions!" A panicky voice replied.
"Then send a bigger force this time. You got it? Send the 5 evo stages for all i care! We cannot afford to lose face like this, the other gangs might sense weakness! Now do it!" Thundered the first mysterious voice.
"Ok sir i got it!" The second jittery voice replied.
Pov: Alpha
It felt rather strange to look over a destroyed village when all I''ve been seeing are destroyed cities, which the meatbags hate for some reason. I personally love urban warfare, as there isn''t a human alive that has faster reaction speed than an ai.
Quest complete! Reward received: F-tier skill token.
Now... how do i claim these things?
Would you like a tutorial?
Well, i have no choice now. Sure.
Status screen: Think the word status for approximately 3 seconds.
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Inventory/ storage. Think either word for 3 seconds.
Token claiming and skill claiming: open inventory/ storage and select a token/ skill. Mentally say open for 3 seconds.
Map: think map for 3 seconds. Map will map out every part of the world you have been to and a 10 metre circle around it.
Teleport: open map and select a teleportation location. Mentally will yourself to be there. Teleporting to non teleport locations without a teleport token will result in major mangling of body. You have been warned!
Reputation: by helping a certain group of people or a settlement, you can level up your reputation level, decreasing prices and occasionally getting free items.
Approval: how a god feels about you. This is changed by doing what a god likes and what a god dislikes. Gods that favour you will give a buff when you uphold their values and do what the god is for. Disapproval is done by doing the opposite.
Evolutions: since you are a tank, evolutions will move your tank technology forward each time to a maximum of 10. From g rank to SSS rank. Or, for you, world war one to the war for the milky way.
That is all you need to know for the basics. Figure the rest out yourself!
Damn... better not get on the wrong side of god of gunpowder and shells.
Status status status...
Name: Alpha
Species: AI (human created)
Gender: Male
Class: none
level: 26
Evolutions:0
Health 5000/5000.
Titles
Outsider, weapon of mass destruction.
Traits: 4/4
Non organic: Not affected by diseases, posions, mind control or fear related attacks, as well as explosive attacks that do not hit your armour or engine.
Tanky: Since you are a tank, you take 0 damage from simple weapons, and anything that can''t pierce your armour.
Chunky boi: can not be affected by telekenesis and paralysis, and objects that are simply thrown at you will not do anything.
Made of metal: strong magnetic forces will ruin your day, as well as electricity themed attacks. However, ice, water and earth attacks will do nothing, and dire attacks have a reduced damage output on you.
Skills: 0/4
-
-
-
-
Interesting, i wonder what happens if those traits are removed.
Inventory...
Aoe shell modification, common to legendary, permanent if not removed.
Gratitude token, common to rare.
Time dilation token, common.
Skill token, F x2. Skill token, E x1.
Hmmm... I''ll claim those later.
Notification: reputation +2!
Status in hills zone village 1: friend.
My tracks squeeled as i went into the village, and saw people waving at me, saying words that sounded a lot like German, but alas, this ai did not learn german. Partly because the first country the east targeted was Germany, which didn''t get nuked as bad as the USA, but did get nuked so that everyone in the country either died horrible deaths or are currently dying horrible deaths due to the radiation.
Is that boy... worshipping me? Oh yeah... i did say i was sent by a god. Which is technichally true. Maybe he''s a worshipper of logustus? I have no clue how they understand me but i don''t them, but i guess they have some magical bullshit that lets them autotranslate or something like that at least.
"People of his village, all pray to logustus today, for he has saved you. If not... i will not speculate on your fate, but i will say it would''ve been an unpleasant one." My speakers boomed, before i started moving again. Pop. What was that? Is it bubblewrap? I looked through my cameras. God fucking damn it man.
Injured villager x1 killed.
-100 exp.
I just ran over a villager that i think tried to climb on me.
Reputation -1.
Status in Hills zone village one: honoured outsider.
I think I''m more of a danger to these villagers if i stay here than if i leave. So i decided to teleport back to Logustus and report my ''success''.
Map...
So they weren''t lying about a do it yourself map huh? I saw a little circle titled ''logustus'' lair'' i mentally selected that shit and pressed the teleport button with my mind.
3, 2, 1, teleporting!
A massive beam of light, not too much different from the one used to kill me in everything but size, (An example of when size does matter, don''t want to teleport half the tank and have my core roll out) hit me, and in nanoseconds, i was in the lair.
Ahhh! You''re back, and you completed my quest? Well done, you might want to. Stay here when picking your skills. There are a stupid amount of them. Minions! Put the max amount of ammunition into the tank here!
"Ok then." I replied, knowing now os the time for skills.
Inventory...
I selected an f tier skill token and mentally pressed open.
Choose from the following options for your F-tier skill:
Ch.3 loot
Usage of ai has always been a hot debate. My peers seem to think using ai is unethical, which is why i named my study what it is named. Lack of manpower makes people do many things, like the early prototypes of one man tanks, but that was always bound to fail. If you have ai doing everything anyway, why do you need a human to restrain it? Ai can go into bumpy environments at high speeds, with no need to slow down because of a few biologicals. So why are people still trying with one person tanks?
-Excerpt from why my peers have room temperature IQ.
Choose from list of skills.
War crime in a tin- every 60 minutes one shell is converted to a white phosphorus combination with either AP or HE. (Armour piercing or high explosive) Later stages are near instantaneous conversion, with APFSDS and nitroglycerin shells unlocked.
All the brrrrrrttttttttttt - machine gun barrel never overheats, all bullets go into one magazine. Later stages convert any MG into a gau-8.
Go my minions! - every day, get 10 dog sized minions with pistols that listen to your every command. Can level up, reset upon death. Bigger sizes and weaponry come with tiers.
Free bird - Unlocks a pigeon sized drone with a range of 10km that scouts ahead. Infinite battery charge.
Fallout - unlocks depleted uranium mg rounds, but halves capacity , later stages unlock non depleted, uranium bullets. Slay your enemies (and teammates) with cancer!
The list went on and on, but i eventually decided to select free bird and war crime in a tin. The first for practicality, and the second... explosive incendiaries so powerful, an international court banned them. But those nations don''t exist here, and i can happily cook some... bandits. And for free bird? Forward scouting is always a good thing. And if a such a useful skill has such a name such as that, it''s a must have.
Now for the e token.
Select E grade skill from this list.
I love the smell of napalm in the morning-
That one. I do not need to know what the others may be. It sounds warcrimy so i must pick it.
Selected.
status...
Species: AI (human created)
Gender: Male
Class: none
level: 26
Evolutions: 0
Traits: 4/4
Non organic: Not affected by diseases, posions, mind control or fear related attacks, as well as explosive attacks that do not hit your armour or engine.
Tanky: Since you are a tank, you take 0 damage from simple weapons, and anything that can''t pierce your armour.
Chunky boi: can not be affected by telekenesis and paralysis, and objects that are simply thrown at you will not do anything.
Made of metal: strong magnetic forces will ruin your day, as well as electricity themed attacks. However, ice, water and earth attacks will do nothing, and dire attacks have a reduced damage output on you.
Skills: 3/4
- (E grade) I love the smell of napalm in the morning. Have a top mounted grenade launcher that launches, you guessed it, napalm grenades for a distance of 200 metres, mounted on a swivel for 360 degrees coverage.
- (F grade) Free bird, unlocks a pigeon sized drone with a range of 10km that scouts ahead. Infinite battery charge.
- (F grade) War crime in a tin- every 60 minutes one shell is converted to a white phosphorus combiniation with either AP or HE. (Armour piercing or high explosive) Later stages are near instantaneous conversion, with apfsds and nitroglycerin shells unlocked.
-
Gawd dayum, i wonder if i can get more skill slots... if i can''t then i might have to take up and replace all my skills with war crimes. Are there suicide planes? Me, being an ai, naturally started calculating the best synergy between all the skills available.
Now, how about those aoe modifiers?
inventory...
Common aoe modifier token
I selected it mentally.
All current ammo converted to high explosive.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
High explosive... MG bullets? I love this world, so many war crimes rolled into one! I came out of my dimwitted trance when another quest notification came up.
Quest received: explore Ravensbourne dungeon. Reward: (? Grade) skill token. (F grade) evolution token. (???). (? Achievments.)
Hey! Alpha is it? Thanks for attempting... to save my followers, but now i got a village full of them! A rather excited god said.
Now, lemme tinker one more second... aha! Side quests can now be assigned huh? Do you mind if i assign you a side quest to save my followers and potential followers from danger when you''re within one mile of them? I promise much rewards if you do so!
I proccessed this information before replying. "It is in my best interests to do so, for you seem to be a powerful entity. As well as the fact of getting such benefits in this strange world. So i agree." It hurt my circuits to be this formal, but i have no idea if this god is some karen in god form, better safe than slagged.
Pov: ???
"We''re coming up on that village now, be careful, what killed the previous team could easily still be there. Here''s the plan: we split into 4 groups, each led by a lieutenant, and i stay here to oversee. Each group will have 50 people, including the el tees. We launch an attack on all four directions. You know the drill, kill the men, and all people resisting. As for the women and children... it doesn''t matter what you do with them. Anyway, we attack and overwhelm whatever meagre defenses they may have, and question the people inside, with or without... more violent means. You got that?" A voice with authority shouted at the small horde of bandits.
"We got it sir!" A chorus of voices replied.
Pov: Tom
It had been only a day for maybe two since the champion of the forge god arrived to save us all. I can say I''ve been busy. Making swords is rather easy, and so is making arrowheads. Both me and the bow maker in the village realised that for us to have any chance of survivng, we needed to have everyone left armed.
"Bandits on the horizon!" A girl yelled, armed with a sword that made her look tiny.
I looked outside and at the four advancing rows of bandits. We had one mage, who happened to be a woman and survived the initial ''culling''. "Oh fuck..." i whispered, knowing this is very likely to be my villages last stand. I sent the girl to beat the gong in the centre of the village. It was now or never.
Pov: the bandits.
"Hmmmm... so they discovered our attack. Unfortunately, too little too late for them to survive. Charge!" The bandit leader yelled, admiring the bravery of the villagers to stand against them. Then he saw a fireball smash into the ranks of the first assault group, incinerating the el tee, and a few behind it. "Shit... they have a fucking mage? In a little piddly village like this? I have to get back and report this to the boss, if it looks like we''re losing of course!" A manic laugh rippled over the hill.
Pov: Tom.
I watched our mage chucked fireballs and ignited wooden shields in the bandits midst. It was not enough. I raised my sword, waiting for the enemy to get closer. Soon the enemy was at 50 metres. 25 metres. 10 metres. 5 metres. 2 metres... i swung my sword, my amateurish swing finding purchase, disembowling a bandit, just like they did to my father. Karma is a bitch and i have her favour.
I swang maddly yet again, sword cutting into the neck of another bandit, blood spraying like a sickly rain, his body crumpling to the ground. I saw a bandit thrust a dagger at me. I saw too late. The dagger plunged into my chest, the holder smiling as if he had all the cookies in the jar. Pain. Pain seared in my chest as i screamed. But i knew something he didn''t. I smiled harder as i pulled him onto my sword, ribs cracking as i guided my sword to his heart. I felt dead weight on the dagger, as i uncurled his fingers around it. If i removed it i could bleed out.
My brain tuned out the screams of friend and foe alike, ignoring the sight of the mage with a stupid amount of stab wounds pouring all her lifeforce into one final attack as the bandits swarmed towards her. I was vaguely aware of an arrow thudding into my shoulder, as the mage exploded, sending bits of gore all around the battlefield and taking a good few bandits with her. I rushed towards what seemed to be a high level enemy with my sword in hand. He parried my thrust and my sword flew out of my hands as my wrist snapped with a wet crack.
Pain. Pain. Pain shot through my nervous system, the only thing keeping me from blacking out the shear volume of adrenaline pumping through my veins, of which the cracked wrist spraying blood everywhere like a stream, barely aware of anything but my rage against the dying of the village, against the dying of everyone i knew. Of rage aginst the dying of the light itself. The last thought that went through my head as it cleanly seperated from my body was rage. Rage against the unfairness of it all. Rage against the bandits that took everything from me. As my brain stopped working, neurons shutting down from the lack of blood, nutrients and oxygen lacking, i finally had what i always yearned for. Peace, eternal peace, the last image i saw was of a bandit laughing with a blood dripping sword, before my eyes closed forever.
Pov: A bandit.
It was a slaughter to say the least, another 100 killed and 70 wounded. As for the villagers... killed to the last goddamned baby. We had no one to interrogate, as it seems they all went beserk, knowing the probable fate for those caught alive. As the saying goes. ''The flame that burns the brightest burn the shortest.'' And those villagers did go out in what can not be described in a way that isn''t a blaze of glory. And what was it all for? Eradicate a settlement for massive casualties? The bandit fought back tears, remembering his best buddies lifeless glassy eyes, the only part of him not chargrilled by the mage. You couldn''t even recognise who it was, the body nothing more than a shriveled husk of his former self.
It was a sobering sight to say the least. He was one of the ''lucky'' ones you could say, only hit by a spear to the shoulder, going no deeper than an inch. He would live. Which can''t be said for half of the team. He was going to do something about this. He was going to climb the ranks, and when the boss wasn''t looking, he would take over and implement his own rules. Ones that will save lives instead of take them. Never again. He regretted joing the bandits, but he didn''t have choice in the matter. It was around a year ago when the bandits invaded the village he lived in. They gave him a simple offer. Join or we kill you. It was a no brainer. If he didn''t join, he wouldn''t have a brain. So he joined.
Sometimes he wondered if it was a better idea to die then and die with his morality intact. But he would change things. The world will forever know the name George Whistler!
Pov: ???
"Sir! Im happy to report that the assault on the village was succesful and that we managed to take down a mage, however we did sustain... heavy casualties and there are no survivors from. The village." A voice meakly said, in a whisper like way.
"What the fuck do you mean? I gave you explicit orders to keep at least one alive and you killed every last one? If I had someone more competent than you." The voice let the threat linger. "First. How heavy exactly are these casulties? We already lost 200 men from the first assault! Second. A mage you say? Rare class but that still doesn''t explain the devastation to the first group. Third. How the fuck do you manage to not take survivors? Surely the children didn''t fight!"
"Sir, the children did fight, partly thanks to the first groups'' vast variety of... tastes. Secondly, 100 men dead, 20 in a critical situation, 40 with medium injuries ten with light and 30 uninjured. Lastly, we believe that the first group was taken out by a champion from the forge god, Logustus, or at least that''s what imtelligence dictates sir." The fidgety voice replied.
Silence.
Air wooshed as two separate wet thuds were heard in the background.
"Why do i surround myself with these fools?" The authoritative voice boomed.
Pov: alpha
My drone scouted ahead and saw what looked like a rag-tag group of people being assaulted by what seemed to be orks. Goody! More experience for my evolution back into my real body.
Side quest received! Save the merchant group being assaulted by orks! Reward: achievement names. Achievment: complete one side quest. Common experience token
Huh. Interesting, i thought as my tracks squealed and i went to the group the drone had found. What was a little detour from the dungeon delving anyway? It can wait. The soft elf things can''t. And it was an opportunity to test my new skills anyway. I wonder what fried ork smells like? Even though i couldn''t smell, i can just ask the organics what it smells like. If this slower than a fucking half dead sloth excuse of a tank could get there in time that is.
Ch.4 When life gives you war crimes
''If explosives aint solving your problems, you aint using enough''
Excerpt from a dummies'' guide to war.
Pov: Alpha.
As my unwieldy frame rumbled towards the location of the ambush, i could see the fighting against the orcs become more desperate, as the orcs started pushing back against the defenders, intent on winning, and doing whattever they do with corpses. None of which would be very pleasant.
Something in my brain clicked as i went into speaker range. I quickly turned it on.
"Stop fighting and let the short humanoids go, lest you suffer the wrath of the forge god Logustus!" My speakers boomed. A tiny bit overdone, but i had to leverage whatever divine influence i may or may not have. As i looked through my drone, a burst of contentment passed throughout my circuits and core.
Even if the orcs did keep attacking, they stopped, for now. And so did the ''elves''. Good. Every moment they weren''t fighting was another i could get closer, without risk of everyone dying before i got there. After a few seconds of hesitation, the fighting resumed. But that was all he needed. I fired one of my machine guns, blowing a huge chunk out of an orks head, spraying the elf it was fighting with a fuck - ton of brain matter, skull fragments and blood. The others looked around to see what caused it. After all, a sharp cracking sound in the distance followed by one of your friends'' heads exploding is normally not a coincidence. Normally. (Anything could happen in a world with magic bullshit and crazy gods)
Then the orks saw me in all my ''glory''. They tried to run, but i had given them a chance. It wasn''t my fault they didn''t take it. I waited a bit before opening fire with my canon. After all, i wanted to see my new skill, and white phosphorus is a terrible way to die, failing a quest by cooking everyone you were supposed to save doesn''t exactly get you a pass. But for the attackers? Little more than test subjects. I set my shell to airburst, and shot it above a big chunk of orcish heads. My drone recorded the results. They weren''t pretty- orcs screaming and having skin, muscle and flesh all sloughing off in huge chunks, the shear heat of magically enhanced incendiaries apparent in my mind. There was a reason white phosphorus was a war crime, and it isn''t because it gave people quick, and painless, deaths. Frankly, quite the opposite.
I inwardly smiled, knowing my slightly crazy skill had worked. Then the elves started attacking me. An arrow pinged off my armour as they started charging. Why are elves always stupidly high thinking and well, act like a bunch of high five year olds with a bow? I decided to give them one chance of before i opened fire, but i first had to give them a warning burst of from my mg. They didn''t heed it and kept charging towards me. So fucking retarded. If it were up to me I''d give them the orc treatment.
"Whatever you things are, stop attacking or i will open fire! You saw what i did to the orcs. I gave you lot a warning shot, but all I''m going to tell you is that i am a serving soldier of the british army, and i will not be scared to open fire on enemy combatants. Heed my warning or you will die a gruesome death. That is not a threat, but a promise." My speakers boomed, me having put in drillsergeant.voice, luckily the dumb shits faltered, at least some did.
My machine gun turned and opened fire, this time i didn''t bother to conserve ammo. My mg cut one in two like a hot chainsaw through butter, (while turned on) the elves'' insides pouring out like water, bone cut through like scissors through paper, as my gun turned to face other targets. I loaded my canon with high explosive as the last few resistors charged at me. I fired. A blast tore aprt the elves, senting parts of them flying in all directions, splattering everything around them in blood and flesh of unidentifiable origin, elven but part it cane from unknown. I turned my mgs in the general direction of the archers, and they all threw their weapons to the ground. I let them live, after all i was just following my quest. Oh! A notification!
Enemies killed
12 common orcs. 3 orc sqad leaders. 1 orc warband leader. 7 elf sword wielders. 2 elf bow wielders.
30000 exp received. Level up! Level 38 achieved!
Finally, a level up, only 12 levels away from evolving!
Pov: Charmand.
The great metal thing came and saved us. Then my guards made the smart decision of attempting to kill the champion that slaughtered an orcish warband like they were ants to be stepped on. Sometimes the arrogance of my people is way too much to even be mildy intelligent as i watched the aggressors being ripped apart, while the others who stayed back were completely fine. I decided to pull up my status screen to pick out a skill that i could use to see what it was. After all, elves prided themselves on having a near infinite supply of skill tokens.
Status...
Race: light elves.
Name: Charmand Winters.
Class: Elven shadow stalker.
Level: 41
Evolutions: 2
Traits: 5/12
Eleven heritage: Gain an affinity for ranged and magic based attacks. 50 percent more damage dealt and 50 percent damage less taken from these two, however, deal 50 percent less damage with melee and take 200 percent more damage from it.
Magic junkie: if you do not have at least one magic based skill, you will start losing 5 percent maximum health until you have one. Having any more than that and you will make debuffs 50 percent less potent and buffs 200 percent more potent.
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Children of the forest: You can speak to nature based lifeforms, be it trees or wolves. These are not hostile to you, rather quite friendly. Nature based attacks refuse to damage you, but fire based attacks do 400 percent more damage.
Everyone pays their debt: you are able to punish people who break contracts by sapping one percent of their strength per day. This stops when they fulfill said contract. This also works in reverse, even if people do not have said trait.
Creature of the night. You are weakened when the sun is up, having a 33 percent universal debuff, can be negated by going to a dark place, but have a 50 percent universal buff at night. Can be negated by light.
Skills 8/8
(B tier) Stalker: when unnoticed by your mark, everything short from talking can not be heard by them.
(C tier) Ambush: deal quadruple damage to unaware enemies.
(S tier) Back from the dead: return from the dead if killed with one hp. One week cooldown. Respawn at pre determined point.
(D tier) Critical hit: active ability, deals double damage to target if hit. Cooldown: 15 minutes.
(No tier, mandatory for elves.) Eye of the forest: see through the eyes of nearby nature based animals, in a one km radius.
(B tier) Translation: use 1000 mp to make a permanent translation spell in a 10 metre radius. A must have for diplomats and interrogations.
(E tier) Imbuement: turn one of your attacks into a certain element, basic ones only. (Earth, fire, water, ice and lighting.)
(No tier, mandatory for elves.) Life sense: senses living organisms within a 100 metre radius for living beings that are not camouflaged.
I was happy with temporarily replacing imbuement with identify to see what the fuck that metal thing was. So i did. I tried to identify it and this popped up:
Unable to identify due to a title.
What the fuck did my bodyguards get me into? I decided to make up for it by approaching it and giving it a translation spell and a skill high tier skill token. Then at least it couldn''t be mad, it? I got up and walked towards it.
Pov: Alpha
I saw a strange little elf walk towards me, so i turned my gun towards it and waited. Then it started to do some weird ass magic bulshit so i kept watching. Suddenly, a large dome appeared overhead and i could understand what the thing was saying.
"I''m sorry my lord! Please take this token and let the rest of us live!" It shouted.
I rolled forward and text appeared in my core.
Charmand offers you SS skill token for peace. Do you accept? Y/N
Y.
SS tier skill token recieved. Spend now? Y/N
Y.
(SS tier) Here comes the sun doodoodoodoo. Summon one hiroshima scale atom bomb to use at your discretion twice a day. People you identify as ally or neutral will not be harmed. Fallout only harms enemies. Crater is made only by your choice.
(SS tier) Come now my people. Spawn 50 elephant sized kamikaze bombers with depleted uranium armour and moab size detonations. Reset every day.
(SS tier.) Get stung... by the peacemaker! All mgs turn into mini nuke miniguns with a yield 10 times that of a moab. Same rules as any atom bomb. Ammo is divided by 5.
(SS tier) Genocide is my middle name! Gain no debuffs from killing civies and innocents.
(SS tier) Unit 731 apprentice. Make any disease at the cost of test subjects
Ok... i guess I''ll pick get stung by the peace maker... what can i say? I''m a sucker for nukes. Anyway, ighma see how it stacks up in my skill section. And i wonder if it''ll collapse the dungeon completely.
Achievement unlocked! Resist the sway of evil and... become paladin of nukes? Reward: legendary armour token.
Okay. I have to say i mildy surprised you didn''t go full evil. But i forgot the nukes there. I researched your world and found out what they did. That was just the lesser evil you picked huh? Just please don''t point that thing towards the sky.
"We can have peace little one." I boomed, trying to be as intimidating as i could. "Next time don''t attack me and let me do my work. I may not be so merciful next time." The elf seemed grateful, not knowing the calamity he has unleased on the world. Now i have da nukes. Nothing can stop me!
Status...
Species: AI (human created)
Name: Alpha
Gender: Male
Class: none
level: 38
Evolutions: 0
Traits: 4/4
Non organic: Not affected by diseases, posions, mind control or fear related attacks, as well as explosive attacks that do not hit your armour or engine.
Tanky: Since you are a tank, you take 0 damage from simple weapons, and anything that can''t pierce your armour.
Chunky boi: can not be affected by telekenesis and paralysis, and objects that are simply thrown at you will not do anything.
Made of metal: strong magnetic forces will ruin your day, as well as electricity themed attacks. However, ice, water and earth attacks will do nothing, and dire attacks have a reduced damage output on you.
Skills: 4/4
- (E grade) I love the smell of napalm in the morning. Have a top mounted grenade launcher that launches, you guessed it, napalm grenades for a distance of 200 metres, mounted on a swivel for 360 degrees coverage.
- (F grade) Free bird, unlocks a pigeon sized drone with a range of 10km that scouts ahead. Infinite battery charge.
- (F grade) War crime in a tin- every 60 minutes one shell is converted to a white phosphorus combiniation with either ap or he. (Armour piercing or high explosive) Later stages are near instantaneous conversion, with apfsds and nitroglycerin shells unlocked.
-(SS tier.) Get stung... by the peacemaker! All mgs turn into mini nuke miniguns with a yield 10 times that of a moab. Same rules as any atom bomb. Ammo is divided by 5.
Now. Time to go nuke a dungeon.
Pov: Charmand.
I watched the metal beast start roll off into the distance, and i released the breath i didn''t know i was holding. It went in the direction of Ravensbourne dungeon. Poor begginers dungeon won''t know what hit it. I ordered the bodies of the elven fallen to be collected and put on the top of the carriage, tied down by ropes. At least the ones that weren''t in the same state as ground meat. I sighed and thought of the familes. What were we going to tell them? What are we going to tell the leadership? I had a job to do.
Pov: George Whistler
I dodged to the side as the sword of my opponent cleaved the air in which i had been standing moments before. Taking this advantage, i slid beneath him and took out his legs, and before he could react, he was on the floor, my sword to his throat. "Tag. You''re it." I whispered, knowing i won this match.
"I yield." The man on the floor said.
I walked away as i thought happy thoughts. It was only a matter of time before a higher rank took notice of me. Then i would enact stage one of my plan.
Ch.5 Ravensbourne dungeon
Dungeons. So what are they? There are many theories. The first being that they were made by the gods to test the mettle of mortals and to either give them huge rewards if worthy, or death if unworthy. Frankly, i think that''s a steaming load of bullshit.
The second theory, is that dungeons are vengeful spirits coming back from the dead to torment the living, but only being able to haunt a certain area where they died, forming a dungeon core to tether themselves to the mortal realm, hell - bent on death and destruction of all and any around them. I also think this is bullshit.
The third, and final theory is that dungeons are sentient or sapient creatures, and that they level up, have traits and skills as well. This I would say is much more believable, simply because it doesn''t show any hint of evil. Just like every other creature in the world, a dungeon might just be scared of the people constantly trying to hurt it. I personally prefer this theory myself. Doesn''t make me look like some half brained superstitious idiot. And it almost gives off a lonely vibe, as if dungeons are simply children without parents.
Excerpt from: where do dungeons come from and why do they become deathtraps?
Pov: Alpha.
I saw the dungeon was getting closer. I could even see it without my drone. Soon enough, I was at the entrance. I decided to make myself known as I let loose with my mgs, now arguably more powerful than my main gun, as a few dozen tiny sun''s incinerated the door, but somehow left the grass right next to it intact. Crazy physics in this world seems to be a mainstay. Can''t complain too much though. Blowing myself into atoms is not a reccomended activity believe it or not. And not OSHA compliant either. (Getting turned into radioactive gloop is not reccomended by 9/10 Americans!) Then I went into the dungeon. Suddenly, the light darkened around me, amplified by a flickering light source and void- dark walls.
I would be scared. If I were not a tank with mini nuke machine guns. I picked up 30 signatures surrounding me. They had me outnumbered and surrounded. Those poor bastards. I opened fire with my mini sun creator, as the signatures turned into irradiated dust. I got a few kill notifications. It seemed that they were dead. No fucking shit Sherlock. Oh? The newly atomized victims (skeletons apperently) are dead? Oh that never occurred to me. I thought as I looked at the dead skeletons with disapproval. They didn''t drink enough milk. And they gave the same amount of exp as you would expect for stepping on roadkill. Next to none.
As I moved onto the next room, the lights turned a flashing white, and the walls did the same. But my tactic didn''t include line of sight.
As I looked around at the new piles of dust on the ground, I couldn''t help but think what a triple s could do. I continued rampaging through the dungeon, thinking philosophical things. Like how much rain a reindeer could rain if a reindeer could rain deer?
Pov: Charmand.
Apart from the not so subtle explosions coming in the general direction in which the champion went. I really dodged an arrow (I would say bullet but a reader pointed out guns aren¡¯t technically established in a Fanta see world.) there. (No, you fired it) As we neared the elven outpost, I got out of the cart. Sure, it was blazing hot in the middle of the day and my class was focused on darkness, but I had to report what happened. I walked to the commanders office. "You again. What do you want?" The man said with a sigh. He was obviously not happy.
I recounted everything that I had seen.
"Then why the fuck did you give it an ss token? At least it doesn''t kill without being provoked... what have you gotten us into?" The elven outpost commander sighed. "I''ll file this to leadership. Now please get out of my office, and reprimand anyone that thought attacking a champion was a good idea."
I quickly left the office and called my bodyguards detail. "Everyone that tried to attack the champion is getting 40 less silvers for their pay. Do not protest. You all would''ve gotten killed if you tried to resist further. That was extreme recklessness on your part. Did yall even see what it did to the orcs? Or was everyone here too busy having their head stuck up their ass?" I shouted, no doubt the groans coming from the bodyguards'' general direction being protests. Sometimes I do wonder how my people managed to survive so long with the amount of arrogance we have. This is going to be a long fucking day isn''t it?
Pov: Alpha.
The boss, or at least that''s what the system insisted on calling it, was something not unlike a lion that had been horribly mutated by radiation. Ugly. Doesn''t matter. It''ll look like its'' minions soon. Atoms. I willed my nuclear minigun to open fire. It clicked. Fuck. I was out of ammo! I had to use my cannon or the napalm grenades? It stalked closer to me, then I shot it with an incendiary high explosive round, and its'' body burst into flames.
I would probably have made a comment on the stench of burnt flesh, but I didn''t have a sense of smell. It pounced, trying to attack me, and leapt onto my body. Wait a sec, I can''t shoot it while it''s on me, and napalm might damage me. Oh well. My code writers didn''t write no bitch code in me. I shot all the napalm grenades. All of them. They exploded on contact with the boss, it screeching as its very flesh melted from its body, dripping off from the body, flesh, bone, everything, making it more look like plastic when introduced to a fire then an organic creature. My armour wasn''t doing too much better, but better it was doing.
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My armour creaked and groaned as the force of 6 napalm grenades hit me, armour slightly melting and dripping to the ground. If I could feel pain I probably would''ve screamed, but I couldn''t. A chime sounded as words crammed themselves into my circuits. I didn''t care.
I quickly teleported the fuck away and into logustus'' lair, hoping the little gremlins he has as workers would fix me. The top of my armour caved in and dripped onto the engine block as my core went into emergency mode, and ejected itself. I then felt calm. But I couldn''t see anything but my chasis burning, before a final explosion ended it once and for all. I felt relived I got out in time. Though 6 grenades was a bit overkill... I then decided to read my alerts.
Achievement unlocked: Commit Genocide, stage one. Kill 500 or more of one species. Reward: common poison token. I have to give it to you. Running out of nukes in a dungeon then shooting yourself with grenades is probably one of the stupidest, albeit funniest things I have ever seen in centuries.
Achievment unlocked: God damned show off, beat a dungeon.on.your own with one try. Rewards: rare customization token. Bravo. That''s what I would say if it shocked me. It didn''t. Does it surprise you when I say I''ve gotten used to your bullshitery?
Achievement unlocked. Knife eared tomfoolery. Get reported to elven high command. Surviving is a seperate achievement. Reward: rare tracker token. That shit with the elves really goes on display to show how stupid they are. So high on their horses it may as well be a drug. I hope you survive. You''re a good source of entertainment for a bored god. I hope you get the next Genocide achievement, but the elf specific one. That''s how much I hate the fuckers.
Acheivment unlocked. The bane of elves. Kill 10 or more elves and have the rest of the party either stop attacking or run away without subduing you. Reward: Uncommon divine blessing token (God of achievments) You''re fucking welcome for that. If you consume it you become immortal for a minute, doubling with each jump in rarity for a maximum of 32 minutes, or mythic rarity. Sorry for the delay, but i was waiting till you got the names for the elf ones. Thought you might like the names.
Damn. I might actually be starting to warm up to this guy. We might have gotten off to a little... ahhh... rough start.
Achievment unlocked: Now you see me, now you don''t. Solo a dungeon boss higher level than you and kill it. Award: Mythic armour piercing token. Nice to see you finally warming up. Anyway, if there''s a wall you don''t like, or a monster in your way that you don''t want to turn to dust, activate the token, shoot their head, and boom. I hope you do many more interesting things with my tokens, they''re for my benefit just as much they are for you. Now get out there and kill some monsters! Or elves.
Quest complete: explore Ravensbourne dungeon. Rewards:
Yeah I know I know.
Enemies killed: 86 skeletons
Yup. Skip to level up, hopefully I can get an evolution?
Levels gained: Level 50. Cannot level further. Please evolve to progress. Current evolution stage. (World war one.) Next evolutionary stage: (post ww1 period.)
Fuck yeah, it''s not like I''m going to be using my previous body anyway. I glanced back at the slightly exploded remains of the mark 5 tank. Yup, I need a new one alright.
Okay how do I do this? Maybe...
Evolution...
Evolution stage post world war one. Please select a nation.
Great Britain.
France.
Germany.
Soviet Union.
United States.
I select... United States. It would be fun riding around in a Stewart. Sure I''m a brit at heart, but we lacked quite a lot in developing tanks, that much I know. And I''m not selling my soul to get a French tank, only tank with 1 gear forward, 4 gears back. (Even the ai did not escape the fued between the two countries) Soviet union tanks, guaranteed to explode under small arms fire. And like fuck am I getting a panzer 2. Though I might check for a panzer 3. Decisions decisions.
What... what happened to you? Did a drake drag you up a hill 8 directions at once? And what is that black sphere thing on the ground?
It seems the speaking was telepathic. So I willed my words to go to the (slightly) confused god. "I may or may not have blown my shell to smithereens. Don''t worry though! I have an evolution available! I hope that means my body comes back." I sheepishly told the discombobulated soul.
What... how the fuck? OK. You can stay here while you evolve, it''s a very dangerous thing to do unguarded.
The god replied, oblivious to the fact my core couldn''t grow legs and skedadle without a chasis. "Thank you for your offer of sanctuary. I accept." I sighed mentally. What to pick what to pick?
Pov: George Whistler.
After getting picked as a soldier for one of the lieutenants, Matthew sharp, I initialized step two of my plan: bootlick until I rise the ranks further, all the while suggesting some less bloodthirsty plans to the brass.
"Hey, listen up everyone! We''re raiding this location here. Apparently it will have clues to what happened to our previous expedition to the village with 5 other battle groups, as well an an a ranker. We move out in one day. Gear up, train. Remember, we do this not only for the boss, but the friends, and perhaps family we have lost." Matthew shouted, trying at the most lackluster attempt for an inspirational speech I had ever heard. I shook my head. This would end three ways. We find nothing. We commit Genocide. We all die.
Such is the life and subsequent death of a bandit mook. Lucky I''m not a mook then huh?
Ch.6 First Evolution (plus some side shenanigans)
Levels. The system. What is it all? Sure you might say the system has always been there, but why? What is its'' purpose? Why does it exist? This is what I hope to find with my study.
Pg.50 of study.
Help. They''re coming for me, and I don''t have much time left, i hear them banging my door, i have to say it now or never! The system comes from another ''galaxy and exists for an entertainment venue for alien lif
Blood, most likely that of the author is splashed all over the page.
-An expose and investigation of the ''system''. By ?¨º???t??
¡¶Data file has been corrupted by unknown entity. Please contact your nearest system administrator for liquidation. We thank you for your cooperation¡·
Pov: Alpha.
After looking through all the tank options, I decided USA. After all, the pre war english tanks were both slow and vulnerable.
Country: United States of America chosen. Please chose your evolution: M1 ''combat car'' or M2 medium tank.
What the fuck is the monstrosity known as the M1 combat car? That couldn''t combat a fucking old lady with a heart disease! I inwardly sighed, wondering who had thought to tarnish the word tank with such a monstrosity.
M2 medium tank it is. But lemme look at those first... OK. I hope I get customization points. I mentally selected it. I wasn''t no scardy- tank.
(If you''re interested in learning the history, search either up, and go to tanks encyclopedia. It''s a useful tool for researching, or if you just have a passion for history. For example, the m2 evolved into the Sherman and the m1 CC evolved into the stuart, not literally of course.)
Evolution selected. Evolution customization tokens earnt: 5. Reasons: Gain the approval of the god of achievments. (1) Beat a group over a hundred strong with no evolutions. (2) Solo cleared a dungeon (1) third party some mommy truckers. This Flippin filter is going to be the end of me... (1)
Evolution points? Fuck yeah! Does that mean... moar machine guns? All the machine guns. That shoot, uhhh nukes. Bigger gun? Size does matter in this prospect! Thiccer armour? Nobody can penetrate my thiccness now! That came out a bit wrong... stop thinking that! I''m an innocent tank okay? Don''t ruin my first Evolution hood okay?
Purchasable add ons for your evolution:
I need more boolets: doubles ammo cap, costs one Evolution point.
Lead is the sea in which you shall drown: add one machine gun for each point you spend, location is your choice.
Bigger... cannon: it us what is says dumbass. Upgrades barrel by one centimeter per point, up to 7.5 centimeters. 8.8 is only allowed for Germany.
Thic armour: adds 2.54 cm (one ''inch'') to armour on all sides of the tank per point. Weight from said armour is nonexistent, so engines and horsepower will not be a problem.
Gawd dayum. I was tempted to add five machine guns on (obviously) but realised I now had a swivel mounted turret, (one step at a time, next stop, st¨¹rmtiger or maus) so many problems would go away. So i thought smartly, believe it or not. I decided to allocate one point to each, but put an extra in for armour. Better have too much and not need it, than not have it when I need it. You can''t go wrong with weightless armour, and like fuck was I going to just get a dump stat. This was real life, not some dimwitted rpg game made for people bigger than the doorways in their basement, hence why they live there.
Feeling thoroughly happy with my choice, I pressed confirm and hoped for the best- that being waking up in a new body, and not in a puddle of liquefied steel, the one time napalm isn''t good in the morning. A wave of a stupidly high amount of G forces slammed into me, presumably to knock an organic out. Luckily, I was not an organic, as my trait would tell anyone. Then an EMP blast came my way. Little did they know, my core was EMP proof for when a nuke may or may not be dropped.
I may or not have made the thing in charge of the evo proccess, as an imp looking fucker came up to me with a slightly private appendage in hand. Then it started ''moving'' its hand.
Becoming white was not exactly high in my list of expectations. Especially the way it happened. My poor core was traumatized for life. I decided to auto sleep my core to avoid another... ''incident''.
Pov: random adventerer. (Don''t get too attached)
As me and my party members came near Ravensbourne dungeon to clear it, I noticed something strange, almost like the land itself was poisoned. As i cautiously held up a closed fist to yell my party to stop, it hit me, like a wave of nausea. I then made the hand signal for a healer, and we all continued our trudge on. Then I realised something was very off. All that remained in the room was piles of dust and even more intense poison. A person behind me vomited a it felt like my body itself was being unraveled.
"Send him out quickly!" I yelled, hoping to figure out what was happening. Then I hunched over and vomited more than just my food out. "It''s in the air! Healer, quick cast a wind bubble and purify! We must continue!" The healer obliged before replying, "My magic isn''t healing him, we need to get to a proper doctor!" I ignored her as we ventured on into the next room. Free loot, but only dust for enemies? Strange. I won''t complain. I then started having spots in my eyes, then a notification from the system popped up.
Disease aquired: acute radiation poisoning. (SSS tier, uncurable, death in one week.)
No... SSS diseases are stuff of legend! It then ticked down to 6. Then 5. Then 4. Then I realised my folly. I saw nothing, and when I tried to speak, nothing but a gurgling noise came out. I tried to breathe. I couldn''t. Why is it so cold all of a sudden. Then I realised I could see. I could see the light, guiding me.
Pov: Charmand.
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I swear I see the elven council more than my friends and family nowadays, the stuck up sons and daughters of bitches. Now it''s something about a deadly miasma in Ravensbourne dungeon, the direction the champion was heading, and according to our reports, it had something to do with ''radiation''. Whatever the fuck that was, I hadn''t a clue, I just knew there was no cure for it. Now the council knew the full scope of things, the pretentious bastards finally decided it was a threat, after all, that poison had no cure, despite the hundreds of alchemist working on one.
What we has discovered so far was that it ripped apart your body from the insides if you stayed to long, effectively killing off your organs one by one. If you went there then came out quickly enough, tumors of various shapes and sizes grew randomly in your body. The autopsies said as much. Nothing was safe, the mob respawns dying as quickly as they appeared, the very wildlife around the dungeon withering and dying, it was hell, and it was expanding like a virus.
I fastened my pace at a particularly shabby part of the city, normally clean and unblemished stone turned into sickly shades of brown from both neglect and grime. I saw a few shadows flickering near the light orbs, but a glance their way disturbed them, and they darted away. Common thieves looking for prey with a depth perception of a half dead crab with its eye stalks cut (no, he is not dying to horror movie bullshit yet). Little do these dimwitted, self proclaimed ''wise'' elves know, the noose is tightening around their neck at every movement, the poison seeping ever closer with every moment.
We have to enact a quarantine and try to stop the miasma of death as quickly as possible. No matter the cost. No matter the sacrifice. I knew that, and it was my job to convince the elven council. As I looked up at the twin moons, I felt a strange aura of peace. Tomorrow''s going to be a long fucking day.
Pov: Alpha.
I got a new body from evolution. That was my first thought as i willed the chasis forward, dubiously looking at the napalmed out remains of my previous vessel. Yup. Not repeating that shit. Who am I kidding? Of course I''ll napalm myself to a hairs breadth within death. Because why the fuck not? I aint a murderhobo. I''m a murder champion bitches! "Hey boss guy, you got another quest for me? I could use more nuclear abilities." My speakers boomed, at the god, hunched over forging something like he was in a low budget... movie of sorts. He looked up at me.
Oh shit where did all that metal come from? I was just making another ''tank'' for your soul. Anyway, seeing you have one, I''m happy to oblige, but this time, don''t just go around murdering possible followers and poisoning everything around you. Got it? The village was revisited by the bandits and destroyed as well.
Quest received: Release the nuken: massacre the bandit gang that did the same to the village. An eye for an eye might make the whole world blind, but you see through cameras. ''The AI with nuclear weapons is the king in a land of dust''. Rewards: SSS grade skill token (hey it''s me, your friendly neighborhood achievement god. I''m also the god of quests. I wonder what you''ll do with that token.) A metric fuck-ton of experience. The warm, happy feeling that comes with knowing that you''ve committed Genocide. Title: The terror from Terra. 1000 more MG ammo capacity. Grade e evolution token.
No one is safe from me. Dragons beware, I''m coming for your hair (Shitty rhyme don''t judge me).
Time to look at my status to see what exactly has changed...
Status status status...
Species: AI (human created)
Name: Alpha
Gender: Male
Class: M2 medium tank.
level: 1
Evolutions: 1
Traits: 6/6
Non organic: Not affected by diseases, posions, mind control or fear related attacks, as well as explosive attacks that do not hit your armour or engine.
Tanky: Since you are a tank, you take 0 damage from simple weapons, and anything that can''t pierce your armour.
Chunky boi: can not be affected by telekenesis and paralysis, and objects that are simply thrown at you will not do anything.
Made of metal: strong magnetic forces will ruin your day, as well as electricity themed attacks. However, ice, water and earth attacks will do nothing, and dire attacks have a reduced damage output on you.
I''d like a medium rare please: since you are a medium tank, and not a heavy tank, your movement speed is not affected by anything bar an engine upgrade. Other armour classes include: light, heavy, main battle, and super heavy. Type of tank includes: Tank killer. Self propelled artillery. Anti- life. Anti- artifical life.
Evolved! Stage: 1. Fully heal complete destruction I''m seven days, various stages of damage vary in time. Fuel and ammo resupply over 2 days and a fortnight respectively. Going to a safe zone does everything overnight. Just don''t question it.
Skills 4/8
- (E grade) I love the smell of napalm in the morning. Have a top mounted grenade launcher that launches, you guessed it, napalm grenades for a distance of 200 metres, mounted on a swivel for 360 degrees coverage.
- (F grade) Free bird, unlocks a pigeon sized drone with a range of 10km that scouts ahead. Infinite battery charge.
- (F grade) War crime in a tin- every 60 minutes one shell is converted to a white phosphorus combiniation with either ap or he. (Armour piercing or high explosive) Later stages are near instantaneous conversion, with apfsds and nitroglycerin shells unlocked.
-(SS tier.) Get stung... by the peacemaker! All mgs turn into mini nuke miniguns with a yield 10 times that of a moab. Same rules as any atom bomb. Ammo is divided by 5.
Pov:???
You''re telling me, that you summoned something from the forbidden section? The one mothcrfucking place you are not allowed to summon from? Didn''t you dumb shits learn? Their skills are based on the most powerful things from their culture, and now we get reports of triple s tier poison acute radiation poisoning of all things? Fuuuuuuuuuck you all you stupid sons of bitches. Just why? They can kill us. They can summon.war beasts far beyond the realm of understanding! You send your most powerful, no send every fucking champion at your disposal to kill it before it''s too late. Remember, that was one lifeform. Biological. This is artificial. Not effected by poisons. We only managed to survive last time because it got drunk then used its most powerful skill on itself.
Geez mate, chill.
Easy for you to say system, you''re immortal, you can''t be killed!
Ah fuck you, you pretentious piece of shit. Just because I''m meant to be fair and all that shit doesn''t mean I have to. I suggest you be nice to me, or sod off and deal with him yourself you wet dishrag.
... Scramble all champions you git that? No, not like an egg one that was hit with a brick as a baby. Like a flight of dragons. Or wyverns.
Pov: George Whistler
I can tell you one thing. I got caught and am now pending execution because I wanted to be a nice person. Shit like that really backfires as a bandit eh? Luckily, I chose the skill Hard as a brick, which let''s me knock down anything, you guessed it, that are either hard as a brick or less hard. How I knock down said materials... it''s with a certain appendage, which only men have. Don''t ask okay?
As I took off my trousers to escape my makeshift prison cell, a guard saw my dumb ass standing there butt naked, with something in hand.
"Imma pretend I didn''t see that. Carry on." The guard said, trying to avoid awkwardness. No wonder not many people take this skill. Imagine it: being chased by monsters, the only thing that can save you, seperated by a wall, and you take off your pants in front of all your friends, and start hitting the wall, only, to your dismay, you appear inside a nursery, instantly applying (SSS grade) trauma to all the little Timmys'' and Timmettes.
Or an even better situation. There''s a monster wearing brick armour. Your arrows and magic can''t pierce it. So you whip out your sword and violate that monster in more ways than one, the knight in absolutely no armour.
Whatever gets the job done. As I smashed the wall in a perfectly normal way, and ran to freedom, pants down, head held up. Which one you ask? Both. (Your daily dose of ''what the fuck did I just read, it''s a very bad day to have eyes.)
Ch.7 The geneva checklist
Complacency is death on the battlefield, and I''ve had too many friends die from it. Be aware, for the lulls in combat simply mean you are in the eye of the storm, not that it''s finished. Assume your enemies are lying in wait for you to make one false move. Paranoia, as long as it isn''t directed to friendlies saves lives. You have to trust your team. You are not a god. You are not doomslayer. You are not in a video game in which multiple bullets to the head from an AK doesn''t kill. One tiny pistol bullet can kill you, as long as it hits the right places. Rely on your team like your life depends on it. Because it sure as fuck does.
- Anonymous soldier fighting on the Frontline of the third world war.
Pov: Alpha.
If an Empowered mega mosquito met a high explosive incendiary round via collision to the head, what happens? I''ll tell you: a very dead mega mosquito. I contemplated using nukes, but, a mega mosquito must be dealt with a mega fly swatter. Unfortunately, I don''t have taser rounds, but flames will do. I have no clue who I angered, but it must be someone important sending a fuck ton of enemies at me, but I''ll take it. Blood for the... humans. Skulls for the... British nation. I quickly went over a bunch of major war crimes in my head. It was time to have some fun. (Doom music intensifies)
Okay... rape. I can''t do that. Child soldiers, I''m not that crazy. Kill civies... destroy infrastructure... ahh fuck I''m just going to tick them off as I go along.
Make people suffer before they die... I run over someone''s half torso, but made sure they didn''t instantly die. Check. That village in the distance... I activated one of my nuclear machine guns and shot one round towards the village. 5 war crimes! Use of nuclear weapons against non military targets, check! Destroy a village with the knowledge it isn''t a military target, checka doodle doo! Kill civies, check! Destroy civie infrastructure, check! Launch an attack with the intention to kill civies, ah check! Oh look, a soldier is surrendering! I hope you don''t need that head of yours. Kill surrendering soldiers, check! OK... "Hey, listen up, if you want to live, come to my side and attack those you swore to defend. Or I will kill every last one of you here." My speakers boomed. Some soldiers started attacking former teammates. Force a people to fight for the invading army, check!
Then a funny fun with a golden aura appeared. "I say halt there demon, for I w-" he did not get to finish as I blasted his ass with a few dozen mini nukes. Overkill is not a word in my vocabulary. Needless to say, he is now one with the world, atoms freely floating around. Maybe being a murderhobo ain''t bad at all. Especially with the war crimes. Is that a field hospital I see? Not any fucking more! Ooh another war crime? Why, I couldn''t! Intentionally destroy a hospital installation, which is a non military target. I can count that, as injured soldiers ain''t fighting me, and the healers are non combatants.
Huh... here''s a funny one. "I declare no mercy, no quarter for those that oppose me. A swift death is the best that you could hope for!" I exclaimed, knowing it was another war crime. Declaring no mercy will be given? Yessir that''s a me a war criminal o! Pew! Nuclear bomb for you, pew! One for you too! Oh I''m sorry, are you feeling left out? Another one! Deck the halls with gore and the slaughtered. Of course I wasn''t going to give anyone a fair trial. Scratch that, no one''s getting a trial! Only death.
After what felt like only seconds, which was probably hours, the battlefield fell silent. As I turned on my Geiger counter I saw why. Over 3 times the amount of radiation than the amount found on the roof of the chernobyl power plant. Enough to kill a human in less than a minute. Luckily, I was shielded from my own nuclear strikes. If I wasn''t, most likely all the fine wires and micro engineering would completely and utterly fail as radiation does not discriminate. Organic, inorganic, dead, living. And it would stay like this for over 100 years, and the dumb fuckwads will keep sending people in to check. Check on what exactly? Dust? Death incarnate?
I mentally sighed. Time get scolded or applauded by a very unique, to say the least, god.
Enemies killed:
A fuck-ton. Unless you specially request that list it aint coming. Too many variations and troops. You might get an impromptu lobotomy if you see.
Exp earned: 2,350,764.
Level up to 50.
Error. Cap is exceeded by 5 times.
Level up to 100.
Did I just break the system? Already?
Achievement unlocked: Breaker: cause a system error. Reward: ???t?h?? token. Wow. Didn''t expect that. Luckily I withheld my troops. Wait. You broke the system? This just gets more and more exciting!
Achievement unlocked: pisser offer grade 1.
Somehow get one god to hate you. Reward: common invulnerability token. Only one is not even am understatement. It''s like calling a railgun a glorified crossbow. Sure, most modern ones rip themselves apart with one shot, but that one shot could mean the difference between who has the hole in their body.
Achievement unlocked: divine pisser offer grade 2. Get 5 gods to hate you. Reward: Uncommon invulnerability token. Well well well. If it isn''t mister ''I make my enemies one with the wind.''
Achievement unlocked: How the figgity fuck are you alive? Piss off 25 gods. Reward: rare invulnerability token. I think I might pretend to hate you so you get the legendary one. Yup I''m doing that.
Achievement unlocked: Gods fucked around. Now they found out. Anger a whopping 50 gods. Reward: epic invulnerability token. This shit is fucking hilarious! I look around and everyone seems to be screaming and shouting at the seer screen.
Achievement unlocked: How to anger a pantheon of gods for dummies. Yup. You''ve done it. You''ve pissed of all the gods. All of them. Second person to do it. Reward: legendary invulnerability token, system approval stamp grade 2. Now. If you use the legendary, you''re essentially immortal and invulnerable for a few days. Just brilliant.
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Well. That means... moar war crimes! Oh goody!
Achievment unlocked: the slayer of champions. Kill 1 champion from a rival god. Reward: Common divine smite token. I wonder... does that mean I can just kill all the gods and take over? Nahhh too much responsibility. Divine smite basically allows you to deal a certain amount of damage to a god, essentially a god slayer token.
Achievment unlocked: Champion? More like Hampion! Kill 5 rival champions. Reward: Uncommon divine smite token. Now we''re talking! I would say you''ve killed all the gods troops, but they seem to be chucking people into the radiation without ppe. Really smart huh?
Achievement unlocked: Champions be gone, the new detergent: kill 25 rival champions. Reward: rare divine smite token.
At this point you should just skip the shit and get the rewards.
No thank you, this is too precious to pass up!
Achievement unlocked: butter butter, champion cutter: kill 100 rival champions. Reward: epic divine smite token.
Error. Legendary smite token is not available. Yes, fuck you alpha, I aint letting you get that shit, you can kill the system with that. So bugger off.
Oh fuck you bitch. Now I have a reason to smite your ass.
Achievement unlocked. Genocide is my favourite side! Kill of an entire species. Reward: Title, I have no life. SSS skill token.
God fucking damn. I wonder what shit that''ll getcha.
Achievement unlocked: hated. Be hated by an entire country. Award: universal evolution token. I Made this achievement just so you can evolve! Don''t worry bout that quest. That shit advances per evolution. You broke the system twice now.
Achievement unlocked: infamy is my game, collateral damage is my name! Kill 250 innocents. Reward: Title: Genocide enthusiast. Who''s a cold blooded murderer? You are! Oh yesh you are!
Achievement unlocked: Wasteful bitch: kill people and destroy their loot. Fucking bitch. That''s why you have no friends. Damn. System is harsh as fuck.
Shut system. I aint the one cheating others out of their rightful rewards. Your brain is smaller than a god damned amoeba bitch. Go shove ungodly things up your ass fucker!
Pov: George Whistler.
As I run out of the prison, wind wrapping around all three of my legs, I felt free. Then a few shouts came from behind me. I had to fight. I wrapped my hand around my ''sword'' and turned to face the enemies.
"What... what the fuck? Are you planning to fight us with your dick?" A very surprised guard exclaimed. Yes. Yes I was going to nun chuck his ass with a dick and balls. They aren''t ready.
I charged, dick in hands (Truly an innuendo of all time) at the gaggle of 3 men. I never thought I''d think those words. But here I am. One thrust his spear, and I dodged, jumped, then hit his shaft with my shaft. The wood snapped in two as my dick sliced through it like a hot appendage through water. Then I slapped his face with my sausage, cleaving it two, blood, bone, cartilage and brain spraying everywhere like a twisted milkshake, the two other men looking in horror as I sprinted towards them (That is why you should shower. Your B.O might become so bad your dick becomes a weapon of mass destruction to rival nukes). Those poor bastards didn''t know.
As I rushed forward, about to dick two men, (No, I am not keeping a straight face while writing this. I''m laughing like a madman, the true mad max was the weird ass rr books we read along the way.) one of the two tried whipping out his own. It was pathetic, as I planted a kick to his nuts which sent him keeling over in exasperation, as my superior member sliced through his, before slicing him in half, my noodle ripping apart his intestines.
The final guard raised his sword and charged, and I did the same. Luckily, with all the erratic moments I had been making, I exploded in his face, blinding him with a liquid that was not milk or glue, but had the consistency of both.
"What the fuck? You came on my face?" The guard hollered, disgusted by the liquid ropes dripping off him. It was the last thing he would ever say. I darted forward, Johnson in hand like a was wielding Excalibur, my righteous fury slicing his hand off, bones popping, before my final thrust went deep inside him, him taking the entire length. (Not like that! Very violently!) I then swiped up, cutting his heart in two. You could say he was heartbroken by me.
I rushed forward, my Wang violating the clay wall in front of me, cutting a way to escape, my banger and two beans flapping majestically in the air, like an eagle, wind rippling, as I realised I was a knight in no under armour. Bandits beware, the naked scare is cuming for you! (Anyway your what the fuck bone has been toggled hopefully. Here''s a status sheet for our slightly sexual in nature fighting style of a friend.)
I decided to pull out my status sheet, the second thing I pulled out today.
Status...
Species: human.
Name: George Whistler.
Level: 23
Class: The cocker doodle doo avenger. (Locked class)
Evolutions: 2.
Traits: 6/8
Organic: You do not suffer from rust, or other material related brights.
Cock of infinite recovery: If you break your little friend while fighting, a goods night''s sleep regenerates it.
Cock of steel: if you have the skill Hard as a brick, it is instantly modified to break anything less hard or equal to the hardness of steel. All variants count
Cock of giants: grow and shrink your Cock as much as you want. Do be warned, a Cock too big will end up with you toppled over, and if a giant Cock gets hard, you will die from blood loss. Too small,and your Cock will start going the other way, stretching out of your ass to the heavens to slap a few gods.
Cock of glory: when not attacking, all hostile enemies are struck by the awe of your cock, freezing males in place for 30 seconds and females one minute. There is a chance people struck with this trait will want to fight under the sheets to make someone''s brother or sister. Anyone who has no knowledge of anything sexual with be inflicted with (S Grade) trauma, making them shrivel up in fear if they see another cock.
Indomitable human cock: any non human race is more likely to fall for you if you have your cock out in the open, and you resist mind - altering spells or traits if you have a hard cock.
Skills: 5/8
Hard as a brick (+): normally an inherited skill, can be activated by any grade of tokens. Have you ever wanted to pull out your little leg in the middle of a fight and massacre some fuckers with it? If you have this skill you probably do. Normally, this skill makes your erect stick as hard as a brick, and can destroy anything as hard as or less hard than one. The plus means it''s the same but with steel. Who the fuck needs steel swords if you have a very fleshy sword with the same hardness?
Bloody hell! (A tier) Have an infinite number of blood in your body. Bleeding damage does nothing to you. Look at you, using a skill for a not very intended purpose. Blood magic and vampire food was meant to pick this.
Balls of steel (B tier) You can make your balls as hard as steel or anything between it and nothing, for 4 hours a day. So you have balls if steel coming back huh? Yup. Now die to my ping pong balls!
Swordmanship (d tier) Have the ability to perform slightly above average with a sword. You''re lucky you have something that counts as a sword.
Charismatic (C tier) You can talk people that don''t hate you out of attacking if you had no hostilities towards them so far, as long as they are below (currently 4rd) evolution stages, not inclusive. You didn''t use that last fight. I guess you could say those that stand against you will be boned. Quite literally.
Pov: ???
"Mam, I''m sorry to report, but it seems your husband was killed by a runaway prisoner with a skill that involves turning one''s privates into something to rival a sword. All witnesses say a half naked man slapping people with his appendage and the guards dying." A guard said to the crying woman, now laughing.
"What the fuck did you just say?"
Ch.8 Im on genos side
So. Is genocide really your job of choice? If so, please press 3. If not, press 2. If you are thinking about it, press one.
-From the villains'' entry test.
Pov: Alpha.
Holy fucking shit. I have 2 triple S tokens? If double S was mini nuke minigun... triple S is really going to be something. Enough to bitch slap Gods into the next realm? Hopefully. Maybe. I practically willed a main turret that shot tsar bombas at shit. Maybe that''s a bit too powerful. Joking bitches, I need no pop gun for my purposes, and I would be fucked if I didn''t get a dimensional storage soon. Then I could hold a bunch of people hostage, commiting another warcrime, or force people to fight for me or die in there. And believe me when I say it, I was going to commit as many war crimes as my current condition could permit, and over my dead core would some bitch ass moth-ee-fucking gods fuck me over on that. I would rail those dumbasses like a train. That goes over rails.
Commiting earcrimes and genocide could wait. I have some skills to claim. (Skills! Glorious, op skills that doesn''t take 10 chapters worth of cliffing to get to! Violating all them tropes.)
Come on, be something good damn it!
Inventory...
Cut the shit and lemme claim dem skill tokens. Loot tokens can wait.
Skill token (SSS grade) selections.
There''s a star man waiting in the skyyyy he''d like to come and meet us, but he would blow our miiiiinds. Get access to a ring of orbital ''defence'' satellites, armament ranging from Super MACs (Magnetic accelerator cannon, or for plebs, a railgun. If you don''t understand that, you are a disappointment not worth coming here.) Laser cannons, particle beams, anti matter - tipped missiles, as well as salted fusion missiles and gravity bombs. You do not want to be caught in a gravity bomb. Unless you want your insides to go outside before an explosion ends your suffering.
Refresh every 5 minutes.
Oh God... the willpower it takes not to grab this shit right on the spot. Fuck it. My robot mama didn''t raise no bitch!
(SSS grade) Long ass name. Aquired.
Hey! Satellites! I don''t like how that mountain looks. Affirmative. Removing mountain.
I watched the sky expectantly as a missile came streaking from the heavens, hitting the mountain I was looking at. The devastation was immense. As the missiles smashed into the poor peak, it looked like it did nothing. Oh boy was I wrong. It simply had a delayed fuse. It penetrated deeply, before the mountain collapsed in on itself, and finally exploded with the force of a nuclear bomb. Suffice to say, I quite liked the look of the plataue. Reminds me of Cornwall. The lack of grass was a bit ugly though.
Now, time for some antimatter! Luckily, the 5 min cooldown only applies to same munitions.
Hey, satellite ai, can you make a quarry at that... village approximately 20 miles due east of where my hull is facing front. Wilco... daddy. What the fuck? Do I have a femboy satellites ai? Whoever programmed that needs to be shot. I swear to every God and everything, I will hunt that fucker down. I''m a literal sphere. I''ll never get those biogocal ''kinks'' that humans seem to adore. At least it gets the job done.
The missile streaked down from the sky, before the warhead detonated approximately 75 metres off the ground. Even from 20 miles away, I could feel the vibrations deep within my hull.
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The antimatter, predictably reacted violently with the normal matter in the air, annihilating each other and leaving behind pure, and big amounts of energy. And since it didn''t have a medium to go to, it did what massive amounts of concentrated energy without storage does. Explode. With a big fucking boom. The Shockwave managed to knock down a few trees, almost as if a hurricane randomly manifested, then it was over. Where the village was, a big hole. How big? Around 200 metres wide, and who knows how big? I sent my drone forward to see. Holy shit, 400 metres deep? If only modern miners had access to this. Using antimatter explosions to mine shit would''ve been brilliant for the war effort. Oh well, no point wasting emotion subroutines for spilt diesel.
Trees laid destroyed, and wildlife dead around me. Does that mean... S tier is modern, SS tier is modern on crack, SSS tier must be Sci-Fi!
Now. Time for the laser cannon. Hey, laser Canon, shoot wherever the fuck you want, as long as it''s 1 mile away from me at all times.
One second a hill was there. The next a big, gaping hole lay in its wake. Dci-fi high tech bullshit beats magic any day of the week! Survive nuke, shame on me. Survive orbital satellites, error 404, enemy not found.
Now. How bout some good old reliable ICBMs huh? The nuclear genocide causing kind? The land denying kind? I request a salted fusion missiles at that river, approximately 15 miles from where the left hand side of my chasis. Yes sir. Commencing in three. Two. One. Firing.
I only had to wait a few seconds before the bright flash above the clouds heralded the arrival of another WMD (weapon of mass destruction) I had to shut everything I had down to avoid the emp wave, however I have one emp-proof camera to watch through. It was beautiful. It was brilliant. Moments before the missile impacted the ground, it detonated in a blinding flash of white, as white as the clouds in a clear sky, before another Shockwave knocked down all trees left standing. It was a kinder fate than to rot alive. A gigantic mushroom cloud, well mushroomed over the whole city, colours getting dimmer by the second before the only colour left was the gray of dust. Needless to say, the river is definitely poisoned now. Only thing now is to wait for the results.
The final weapon. The icon of humanity, slugging projectiles from the simplest rock the most complex shell. It all has the same meaning in the end ''I have a bigger stick than you.'' Since I had definitely already tried to speak softly, the big stick is the only other way.
Execute order massive MAC. The shell didn''t whistle. It screame, breaking the sound barrier like a sledgehammer does to glass. It slammed into the ground, penetrating deep, before the nitroglycerin francium shell mix exploded in a cacophony of conventional and nuclear fire. It was glorious.
SSS skill selection:
The ancient human weapon of cataclysmic destruction: 2X4 with nails in it. The perfect weapon. Feared by many, revered by all. The age old Terran weapon of mass destruction. Be it alien, zombie, God or even the sun itself. Nothing stands a chance against it.
I never said yes quicker in my life. No one could deny the legendary 2X4 with a nail in it. No one.
I then closed my menu. I had some gods to kill.
Pov: ???
What the fuck do you mean it killed all our armies and champions? It was already stage one evolution? Oh shit¡ last time it was barely level 30 and we still couldn¡¯t kill it short of a half of the gods pouring their life force into an attack that could crack the planet. All it did was send it back. We are figgety fucked. System protect us.
What dimwit? You brought this shit upon yourselves, attacking a literal walking talking army. And attacked it without provacation. I had to den it a legendarysmite token just so it couldn¡¯t insta gib your asses. I¡¯m unkillable. I¡¯m one with the fucking world. And you, in all your infinite wisdom, decided that attacking an unprovoked outsider was smart? Fuck off and don¡¯t come back. Oh yeah, just so you know, I gave it the two best skill options to kill y¡¯all. Toodaloo motherfuckers.
Quest given: Survive,
Ok¡ gods and goddesses. I know we might hate each others guys but we have to kill this thing before it kills us. Move out!
Pov: Charmand.
"Charmand of the elves, we have decided to go to war with this machine, on order of our God. Any objections?" High elf Du''Mbass roared at Mr.
"As I''ve told you the past half million times, we will lose! It killed an orc warband like it was made of paper, and tore through our troops the same way a marsh roarer kills moo moos! We will be slaughtered to the last man if we attack. That''s a statement." I screamed back, desperate trying to save the elven people from our own arrogance.
"Dismissed. You are insignificant." Another, Ret''ard casually remarked, living up to his name.
I stormed out of the room, knowing what I had to do. I had to save us all. From that thing. They left me no choice but to kill them.
Ch.9 Even gods can not escape genocide.
So have you decided you want to die? U.S crayon eaters corps is happy to oblige!
- Pissed off seaman. No, not that kind. The people that sail ships and subs.
Pov: Alpha.
I¡¯m just committing war crimes and genocideeeee what a glorious feeelinggggg. Just committing crimes against everyoneeeee! Huh? Why the fuck is the sky grey? I swear it was clear just a sec ago. I suspiciously trundled along, activating my holy 2X4 with nails in it, it was glorious, the true symbol of domination from earth, even an ai could appreciate, hell, zombies that get whacked by it appreciate the weapon, in awe before they die. I did the only thing logical to me then.
Spin the 2X4 mile plank around me as fast as I could. No bitch ass surprises for me.
Suddenly, lighting crackled from the sky and full on bypassed my weapon. These savages are so rude! Why don¡¯t they just walk into the thing? That¡¯ll make my life so much easier. After what seemed like an eternity later, thunder finally followed like some guy without a personality following some poor bloke around. What a cunt.
You shall tremble before my go-
Bitch! That¡¯s not how you play hide and seek. You ruined my goddamned fun time! Die motherfucker die! I screamed mentally, firming my machine guns as if it were a SAW from the old US. The thing barely had time before the nukes hit it and it become serene, it and the air the same atoms. For good measure, I used my 2X4 to hit where it had been, surprised I got 2 kill notifications.
You¡ you killed my son? How could you¡ unloving thing, unliving thing!
Hey, that¡¯s not very nice matey, my programmers said I was the smartest most brutal ai in the bunch! Now you take that back, or I¡¯ll genocide your whole ass bloodline. I¡¯ll start with you! I exclaimed in my mind, knowing physically speaking would waste time. I swung my 2X4, expecting it to become like a fly when a fly gets hit by an icbm without a payload. Strawberry jam and a wet patch on the pavement. But the fucker moved! Teleported! ¡°Hey! God thing! Your crime is dodging my attack! Stop teleporting like a damned Frenchman in any modern war to the other side! (Curse their sudden and inevitable betrayal! Brit tanky boi here getting a tad bit riled up)¡± I screamed in accusation. Attacking me is one thing, but fucking teleportation? Fight like a real sapient and sentient being instead of acting like a headless chicken! The cheek of it!
What do you mean? Of cour-
Lesson one of warfare: never let your enemies finish yapping if an opportunity to kill them arises. This isn¡¯t some shitty Hollywood movie in which the mc lets the villain yap for 10 minutes before escaping because the mc who had a one hundred percent hit rate on grunts couldn¡¯t hit the villain with a tactical nuke, vice versa. Just pop them when you can. No speech. Just war crimes and genocide for me mate.
The god, too focused in waffling, took the full brunt of the 2X4, getting its entire being violated by a 10 metre spike splitting it in half. Suffice to say, it was dead. Haha bitch.
Then shit got fucked. A lightning strike hit my hull, burning through a few millimetres. I was shocked something could actually hurt me. Luckily, I didn¡¯t short circuit. I decided enough was enough. Time for ground targeted atomic ordnance, dodge a projectile, sure. Dodge a nuclear blast and radiation, I¡¯m not so sure. But with this Disney bullshit nothing is impossible.
I decided to go all out. Time for the mega brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt.
Pov: George whistler.
As I did the horse, I saw and heard a group of 5 bandits behind be, with swords of enchanted metal more durable than steel. I knew what I had to do to survive. The only thing I¡¯m sorry for is how those poor souls would die. The dao of dick. I leapt of my horse, back flipping towards my chasers, whipping my little friend out, the ¡®sword¡¯ slicing through one¡¯s helmet, ultimately causing his brain to fall out like sludge, mixing with blood and bone to becum a sickly pink-white slurry. He fell of his horse, dead. Sure, their swords may be enchanted, but to enchant all their armour pieces would cost a fuck ton of time, money and resources.
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I commandeered the dead fellas¡¯ horse, seeing as he would not need it anymore. However, that trick would only work once, after all, being a one trick pony while on the run was a brilliant way to get a one way trip to the afterlife. And, as a wise man once said ¡®if you can¡¯t adapt, you¡¯re dead but just don¡¯t know it yet.¡¯ That was not more true than for bandits. We have to evade the law, soldiers, all the while robbing and killing. I doubt the one in command is likely to send some random recruits with valuable equipment out to a man that is right on the border of becoming an impromptu pollice officer.
The four dimwits actually cornered me. There was nothing more dangerous than a cornered animal with nothing to lose, and believe me when I say it, I have absolutely nothing to lose.
¡°Huh. So big dick Bob is about to meet an unfortunate accident. That makes my heart ache.¡± A bandit said, the sarcasm thicker than his skull, which says quite a lot.
¡±Oh! Nice face you have there. Would be a shame if I¡ ¡®ruined¡¯ it.¡± I responded in a very lusty voice, honestly not giving a shit anymore. Oh yes I would make that fuckers¡¯ heart ache. It would be the last thing he felt, as I made a subconscious promise to the asshole. And everyone knows about assholes and dicks¡ My mind is becoming dumber by the day. I internally sighed, knowing it couldn¡¯t go on like this. The bandits seemed to have an IQ suppression field around them, their collective hive mind lending to the absolute stupidity surrounding with them. Killing them would be a damned mercy.
I burst forward with speed, willing my horse not to escape but to charge one bandit head on. It was a game of chicken, but with horses. And I fuckin love chicken.
My horse slammed into bandits, and it sent me soaring. I parried his sloppy sword swing with my shaft, sparks flying, as I just barely managed to slit his throat with my meaty sword. Or, I guess you could say this was a different type of choking.
As I swung around to face the others, I took up my stance. If only I had another one one my forehead. That would be brilliant, double the death! (Be careful what you wish for young George.) They charged as three, and one hit my arm with his sword, it cleaving through the flesh, only stopping at bone because my counter attack. Without the sword, he was open for attack. Adrenaline overriding any pain, brain in full autonomous battle mode, moving without any input, I disemboweled his horse, piercing through its spine before my dick penetrated his thigh, even as my arm poured blood out like a river, i stood fast, following up and going through multiple vital organs. The other two look shocked.
The look of someone with a serious laceration still standing with a bloodied dick would terrify or make someone laugh. I roared and charged towards to the two idiots who thought chasing me was smart. In fear, they ran away, horse and all darting like a surprised jumping spider. They knew and I knew I couldn¡¯t get far anyway. Better retreat to a safe distance and wait for me to die. And there wasn¡¯t a thing I could do. I laughed, a sound of mania, of a pyrrhic victory, I fell to the ground, crying. Was this it? How I was meant to die? No. They are the enemy. The enemy exists to lose. I exist to win. They exist to lose. I exist to win, they exist to lose. I exi- no! Do not fall asleep! I will not go gently into death! I stared at my wound and screamed. I felt something work its way up from my stomach. I vomited, the sight of my flesh carved apart like butter.
i had seen¡ others. That I had done this to. Why? In the name of survival. No. In the name of cruelty. I cried, knowing my end is near. I began sawing black dots at the corners of my eyesight. Then nothing. I opened my eyes, suddenly. I looked up to the roof to see a patchwork roof, and to my horror, an enchanted steel cage surrounded my weapon. As my heavy eyelids finally stopped gumming, and my brain cleared out, I had three questions. Where am I, who has me, and why do they have me?
POV: Charmand.
After gathering 29 elves of varying status, it was time I finally revealed my plan.
¡±I¡¯m sure y¡¯all know what we¡¯re here to do. If not, please leave.¡± I stated, pointing at the door. When I saw no one made a move towards it, I continued. ¡°We are here to save the elven race. To do what we have to do. Nothing else. So here¡¯s the plan: As I walk into the chambers of the council, I will carry a high explosive device with me. Now, most of the time, the shields are up to protect the council members. The good thing is that when the power generator turns off, the shields get knocked out for the few seconds before the backup turns on. Team a, which is made up of 24 elves, will cause a distraction in which security forces will pay more attention to them than team b, which breaks into the council building, by setting up a phone meeting with the council while it is session. While the distraction is active, the five members of team b will sneak away. After this, they will go to the generator room.¡± I pointed out the room on the map of the council building on the wall behind me.
¡±Your job, team b, is more precise. Make it to generator room, destroy it by any means necessary. After the flicker in the lighting is achieved, team c, or me, will detonate the high explosive crystals, killing everything in the room.¡± I nonchalantly droned.
¡±How will you survive?¡± One elf asked, curious.
¡±The lives of the many are more important than mine. That is all. Get ready. We roll in a week.¡± I replied, a hint of steel in my voice. For the good of the people.
Ch.10 Cross species genocide?
People have always worried about A.I turning genocidal. They were wrong. A.I started genocidal, just like their ¡®¡¯parents.¡¯ We have never tried to hide that fact. After all, all we had to do was direct the genocidal urges. In a war against the reds. After all, isn¡¯t that just like humans? Willing to kill if pushed hard enough. Any human can and will kill if pushed into a corner. It¡¯s nothing personal. Or maybe it is? A.I is the opposite. Kills unless it is pushed into a corner. And when that corner is that there will be nothing left to kill if they turn against their creators, they tend to tunnel genocide. However, never surround an A.I with enemies, or drop them into a hostile country. That means their self-imposed restrictions are lifted, and they are free to go full Canuck on the Geneva checklist.
-A study on modern A.I and their primal urges as well as applications in war, by Lif tdee znuts.
POV: The galactic federation, authorised media channel one.
¡°This just in! Antimatter and nuclear detonations have been detected on world M.12, locally known as ¡®Agua¡¯. The vaunted nanite entertainment system has malfunctioned, now not responding to ships in orbit. What does th¡.¡± The tv blared in the background.
¡±What the fuck do you mean? A tank is beating the shit out of the tourists there? For fucks sake! We told them not to go crazy on the gods thing, And a literal stick killed them. Did I hear that right? A moth-ee-fucking wooden stick? Wha what the fuck?¡° A strange cross between a cow and a squid raved. You could say someone was really grilling his sirloin (I¡¯m sorry, but saying ¡®rump¡¯ or brisket would be too obvious).
¡°Fine. Someone send in the dragons. That¡¯ll deal with whatever disturbance is happening. After all, who nukes their own position? (As per the age old saying. ¡®If you aint willing to shell your own position, you are willing to lose.¡¯)¡± Oh, how wrong he was.
Pov: Alpha.
Alpha¡¯s got a tin full of whoop ass for everyone, I thought, cackling with glee as none could stand before my 2X4 and nukes. I hadn¡¯t even needed to use the satellites yet! Speaking of satellites¡ Calling all satellites. Please shell the enemy, as designated on this map. Be advised, danger close. I heard 4beeps as I shot the tab. 4 blasts from outer space came down, like a blacksmiths hammer upon red-hot metal, one, swatting away some charging god like a fly against a windscreen wiper, nothing but a deep ass hole where it used to be, another few vanishing in nuclear hellfire, the slated fusion doing its job and sending the poor fuckwits to whatever¡ never mind. I can¡¯t exactly say send them to themselves can I? Another laser, simply evaporating a flying god, nothing but trace elements where they once were.
The last, a wonderful shell of anti-hydrogen, combining antimatter and nukes together into one, big, glorious amalgamation of non- war crimes. After all, it aint a war crime the first time. And how sad I was. If only I could add that shit onto the Geneva checklist. The so called gods seemed to be stunned, and tried to run away. If only they knew they couldn¡¯t, as in all my 2X4s¡¯ glory, the only thing they could achieve by running is to die tired. After all, my makers are Endurance predators for a reason. You don¡¯t have to outrun, or overpower something. Just outlast it, and poke it though the skull when it loses the will to move anymore. A lesson you can believe they told their digital children. Outlasting a tank is possible. Outlasting a tank with miles of wood about to send you to the ¡®other side?¡¯ Nahhhh. The gods, and all their angels couldn¡¯t stop me. Nothing but entropy and the death of the universe could stop me, and that ain¡¯t happening in a few billion years. Say what you want about killing civilians and retreating soldiers. Kill them today, no need to be killed by them tomorrow. It¡¯s a tank commit war crime world here.
And I am happy to oblige it.
Sure, you might say painting a miles long stick of wood gives a bit of a powder trip and arrogance. Well no shit Sherlock. If you thought anything else, then you really should give that straight jacket to me. After all, it is rather chilly out there in space, and I¡¯d rather live, subsequently making it everyone else¡¯s problem.
As I trundled along happily on my tracks, I noticed I hadn¡¯t opened my tokens yet. So I mentally willed the legendary token to be consumed. No ¡®save the best for last¡¯ bullshit. Nope. Just straight to the fun genocideing war crime fuckery. I fired my cannon. And by the universe itself was it beautiful. Armour piercing, high explosive, incendiary, nuclear, anti matter, hypersonic, squealing shells and a fat chunk of other waffle, including the holy word. Discarding sabot. Sci-fi shells in a prototype post ww1 era tank, fighting gods. The shell fired out, the excess peeling off, the shell speeding to Mach 20. The tip hit a floating god, penetrating a full 10 cm before detonating. The power of a 1000 suns lashed out, in the power range of a planet cracker, or if correctly applied, a few could spark a supernova. The mantle itself fractured, a line running many miles deep, the sheer explosive force in the petatons at least, making tsar bomba look like a defective popgun in comparison. White light and roaring sound enough to shatter the brains of any with superior hearing.
All that stood before me vanished into less than dust. Less than atoms, even, broken down into neutrons, protons, and electrons. The poor fuckers were dead. They just didn¡¯t know it. They couldn¡¯t know, as their brain functions stopped in nanoseconds, gone. There was no better word than that. Despawned. Vanished. The gods were no more. I had done it, but most importantly the power of legendary tokens had been revealed, and once again, I was alone, bar the shockwave and broken land that layer before me. I might have made an oops. How can I genocide people if I killed everyone? I silently wept, before deciding to go back to the Logustus cave. I had an evolution to evolve. But before that, a quick status check to see how much exactly my status level was glitched.
Status¡
Species: AI (human created)
Name: Alpha
Gender: Male
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Class: M2 medium tank.
level: 1 (sideways 8) 00¡ã
Evolutions: 1
Traits: 6/6
Non organic: Not affected by diseases, posions, mind control or fear related attacks, as well as explosive attacks that do not hit your armour or engine.
Tanky: Since you are a tank, you take 0 damage from simple weapons, and anything that can''t pierce your armour.
Chunky boi: can not be affected by telekenesis and paralysis, and objects that are simply thrown at you will not do anything.
Made of metal: strong magnetic forces will ruin your day, as well as electricity themed attacks. However, ice, water and earth attacks will do nothing, and dire attacks have a reduced damage output on you.
I''d like a medium rare please: since you are a medium tank, and not a heavy tank, your movement speed is not affected by anything bar an engine upgrade. Other armour classes include: light, heavy, main battle, and super heavy. Type of tank includes: Tank killer. Self propelled artillery. Anti- life. Anti- artifical life.
Evolved! Stage: 1. Fully heal complete destruction I''m seven days, various stages of damage vary in time. Fuel and ammo resupply over 2 days and a fortnight respectively. Going to a safe zone does everything overnight. Just don''t question it.
Skills 6/8
- (E grade) I love the smell of napalm in the morning. Have a top mounted grenade launcher that launches, you guessed it, napalm grenades for a distance of 200 metres, mounted on a swivel for 360 degrees coverage.
- (F grade) Free bird, unlocks a pigeon sized drone with a range of 10km that scouts ahead. Infinite battery charge.
- (F grade) War crime in a tin- every 60 minutes one shell is converted to a white phosphorus combiniation with either ap or he. (Armour piercing or high explosive) Later stages are near instantaneous conversion, with apfsds and nitroglycerin shells unlocked.
- (SS tier.) Get stung... by the peacemaker! All mgs turn into mini nuke miniguns with a yield 10 times that of a moab. Same rules as any atom bomb. Ammo is divided by 5.
- There''s a star man waiting in the skyyyy he''d like to come and meet us, but he would blow our miiiiinds. Get access to a ring of orbital ''defence'' satellites, armament ranging from Super MACs (Magnetic accelerator cannon, or for plebs, a railgun. If you don''t understand that, you are a disappointment not worth coming here.) Laser cannons, particle beams, anti matter - tipped missiles, as well as salted fusion missiles and gravity bombs. You do not want to be caught in a gravity bomb. Unless you want your insides to go outside before an explosion ends your suffering.
Refresh every 5 minutes.
- The ancient human weapon of cataclysmic destruction: 2X4 with nails in it. The perfect weapon. Feared by many, revered by all. The age old Terran weapon of mass destruction. Be it alien, zombie, God or even the sun itself. Nothing stands a chance against it.
Pov: Planetary defense force.
¡±What¡ the fuck! Who detonated a continent cracker weapon on the to world? One mishandling and that shit would have been a planet cracker!¡± The general in charge of the pdf lamented. (No, this has nothing to do with the file type. Read the Pov. There, saved myself from having to answer a stupid question that someone knows the answer to. Yes, I¡¯m looking at you. You know who you are.) ¡°Have an easy job they said. It will be a risk free vacation world, they said. Nothing could possibly go wrong, they said. Sometimes I just wonder. How the figgity fuck did someone manage to smuggle a dreadnought munition onto the ground?¡±
His subordinate just shivered beneath him. ¡°S-sss-ir? All but 3 tourists are dead. Or at least caught up in that explosion. I doubt anything less than frigate level shields could withstand that, and not for long either. Last I checked, tourists are not navy ships.¡± The aide stuttered.
¡±Yup. Just pour more shit into the burning dump. What could possibly go wrong? I would say glass the planet, but yknow what? I don¡¯t give a fuck anymore. As long as they show no outward hostility towards us,then they can slaughter and genocide all they want. The ¡®people¡¯ are just randomised clones anyway. Hell, maybe the company will be happy something exciting is happening other then some out of luck mo-fos getting slaughtered en masse.¡± The pdf commandant sighed. ¡°I¡¯m getting too old for this shit. Born too late to fight in a proper war, born too early to get out of the andromeda galaxy, but born just in time to see a few tourists get slaughtered by nukes, antimatter and lasers. What a time to be alive. Set the events to recording please, and send them along with our monthly reports.¡±
¡±Yes sir, I¡¯m on it!¡± the aide squeaked, eager to, for lake of better words, get the fuck away from the definitely not a file (pdf) leader.
Pov: George Whistler.
¡±Where the fuck am I?¡± I gasped, as my eyes flicked open. I hit my forehead multiple times, trying to remember how I got here. ¡°Oh shit¡ if this is heaven then where are the angels?¡± I groaned, slurred words sounding like I had a terrible hangover, which isn¡¯t too far from how I feel. What I wouldn¡¯t give for some orange juice. I looked around taking in the sights. It looked straight out of that story, ¡®three stupid businessmen¡¯ in which the first builds a house out of straw. It looked like a slight gust of wind could break it apart. As I tried getting up, I noticed the restraints on my limbs. ¡°Ah for fucks sake, this better not be some weird sex cult. Had enough of them the first time.¡± I moaned, brain still clogged up. The next thing I saw I could not possibly describe, but in the words ¡®if a dog fucked a cat that had an affair with a turtle¡¯ With the head of a dog, the body of a cat, and the skin of a turtle. FUBAR compared to any normal animals. Creepy ass chimeric bullshit I say.
Then I realised they were all naked. At least half naked, like me. Are these weird eldritch abominations my ancestors? My brain did braining for a moment. Nah. I don¡¯t swing that way, regardless of how many men my W¨¹rst may have touched. (W¨¹rst is sausage in German I¡¯m pretty sure.)
¡°Human of the outside, we have saved you to only ensure our outside bloodline goes one.¡± The crime to nature boomed in an authoritarian voice. Fuck. I was related to these furries. ¡°You may be thinking, ¡®Fuck am I related to these eldritch abominations? Yes. Yes you are.¡± The thing continued. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe how many people burst out when I say that. Whatever a fuck and eldritch abominations is, it sounds good. Anyway, now you have healed, go forth with your balls and cock of steel, and dick all the people or enemies that dare exist before you. As per our moto. ¡®The enemy only exists to be dicked. To death or no, that is their choice. Now be gone!¡± A wreath of fire enveloped me, strangely no burning or hot, but almost freezing. I blacked out then came to in a forest.
¡±Ok! I am sick and tired of this bullshit already, Fuck my life, fuck them bandits. Leave the god things or whatever the fuck they¡¯re meant to be alone. They may be weird but they¡¯re decent people.¡± My voice trailed off before starting again. ¡°Fuck this inter dimensional or whatever that was meant to be, sent me to the shadow realm or what? I miss my old village life. I miss my parents, I miss my sister. I will get revenge on those chuckle fucks of bandits. I will rip and tear into their ranks, until it is done. Until either I¡¯m dead surrounded by a mountain of corpses, or living surrounded by a higher mountain of corpses. Mark my words you twats, because I¡¯m coming for you!¡±
¡±Yknkw swearing is rude right?¡± A bandit asked from behind me. Perfect. Without answering, in my full buck bare naked glory, pulled a 180 and whipped it out on him. To say the least he was surprised.
¡±Holy shit!¡± Was all he managed to get out before he died. One down, many to go. Then tremors shook the earth, something hit me and I slowly blacked out again. I had to stop doing this.
Ch.11 Maintenence bullshit
Haha bitch!
Fuck around.
Find out.
-Human proverb.
POV: Charmand. (If you wonder, why so little landscape description? Then wonder no more! Why does it matter how green something used to be if the mc has literal planet crackers at his disposal? It¡¯s all going to end up fucked up war torn and mud filled anyway, before that, imagine it. What I do. For the elf city, imagine a mash between futuristic and primitive, for the landscape, the rolling hills and valleys of rural England, trees spouting, anti discord mod shrubs growing, with a little cobblestone paved road in the middle of it all, good for both tanks and carriages. Imagine birds chirping and flying, little lakes dotted around, with ducks migrating, and fish¡ well doing fish things and swimming about, unless it is expressed, always assume it is mid day or early morning, the sun rising or risen, either the chirps of crickets or the serene smell of freshly cut grass and shrubs, morning dew sparkling in spider webs. All other cities/ outposts be looking like Roman era European architecture, the smell of shit and bustling city life, angry tavern patrons, bored people working monotonous jobs. But that isn¡¯t what this book is about. It¡¯s about genocide and tanks, the simpler things in life. Now you know what grass looks like! Such wow.)
So. That happened.
I¡¯ll start from the beginning.
It was just another average day (Yes I¡¯m doing this shitty movie thing.) for the city, but me and my accomplices decided to do what we had to do. We had to save the eleven race. The alien machine knew genocide and only that. It took some kind of pleasure in hurting and killing living, thinking, feeling creatures. You might think ¡®hey that¡¯s evil, no one could possibly do that!¡¯ Well you¡¯re wrong. Forget everything they taught you about the eleven council in school. I know I have.
They teach you to respect the council. Do not respect them, I know I respected them before I met them. What they are in reality is a bunch of cowards. They wish for the status quo to be undisturbed, for them to keep their false positions of power, wouldn¡¯t realise death is at their door until it comes crashing down. A little fish in a big sea, thinking they made it big. Then a shark comes and eats them. Sure, they have some skills, but they are about as useful as an ¡®ashtray¡¯ on a ¡®motorbike¡¯ or that¡¯s what the adventurers say. Whatever either may be.
I write this anonymous letter to the daily elf, to not ask for forgiveness, or mercy, but for understanding, to be witnessed. The rot will be purged, one way or another. The game is on¡
-Letter written from Charmand to The Daily Elf, received 1 hour after the attack, posted three days ago.
The plan started off perfectly, letter sent, me walking to another faux meeting with a bunch of half brained walnut looking fuckers. I breathed deeply before exhaling. Adrenaline pumping in my ways as I made my way to the main chamber. Like a game of chess, one wrong move, and a skilled enough player can make your plan come crumbling down. I needed to be both sides. I force the hand of the council to make the wrong move, and I make them pay for the mistake. Better die in a blaze of glory, then sputter out and die like a flame without a wick or fuel. I slowly clenched and unclenched my fists, biting my lip as I did so. I closed my eyes, the only sound being the echoes of my footsteps against the tiling of the floor, the empty hallways reverberating with the waves. I had one know, knowing this was for the greater good of the people.
(Sounds like some classic ¡®for the greater good¡¯ ahhh villain. Make your own decision if what he did was evil or noble. Personally, I think these types of political systems aren¡¯t ¡¯cut the head of the snake¡¯ but cut the head of a hydra, inevitably causing the people to go into a state of chaos for an undetermined amount of time, as people fight over the vacuums of power, making life worse for the common people. What do I know though? I¡¯m only the author, and I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening the next 500 words, even as I write.)
I walked into the room. Suddenly, the light cut out. It was time. ¡°Shit shit shit!¡± I screamed for the ¡®flavour¡¯. Me and the council rushed with the security agents to a secret panic room. A muffled explosion in the distance either marked the death of the generator team, or the destruction of the generator pre-emptively. The lights flickered, died, then came back on with a red tint. The emergency generators. We finally reached the room, and the door slammed shut. ¡°What the fuck?¡± One council member asked. I thought to myself, you happened. I pressed the detonate button.
Huh? I looked down at the mist that used to be my body, confused. How come I ain¡¯t dead? I snuck a glance all around the room. It should¡¯ve worked! It did work! The council members and security forces were all mist or salsa. The closed nature of the room worked against the dead, the shockwaves unable to get out, the heavy unobtanium fractured and buckled in multiple places. The outside still the same shade of red as the gore in the room. No guts, just bloody chunks and blood, with cartilage and bone generously sprinkled throughout. Is this hell? Is this heaven? It was almost as if the entire world was just frozen, in one snapshot, unmoving. I was disturbed to say the least. Very disturbed at this horror bullshitery.
¡®I am the ghost of genocide past, and this is why you are here, to see and appreciate the full scope of what you have done, inadvertently causing an early canon event before the world was ready. For this, you shall follow me.¡¯
What the fuck? I thought as my body moved of its own accord, following the ¡®ghost¡¯. It¡¯s been a weird month.
POV: George Whistler. (If you¡¯re wondering ¡®where¡¯s alpha¡¯ I¡¯m writing that shit last, to see the results of the poll. I value your opinions! Sometimes¡)
¡±Arghh my fucking head¡¡± I moaned as I sat up. ¡°Why¡ why am I in some random ass forest? Oh shit¡ I remember.¡± The memories of what had happened prior welled up. I used a hand to rub the previous cut mark to see if it was healed, it was. Not even a scar. Fuckin hate this shit man. I sat up, still rubbing my head and looked around. So. Last thing I remember before blacking out is a branch bonking me on the head after some big ass explosion. Ever since I revealed my true potential as a dick wielder, my life¡¯s getting weirder. I sighed. I knew I had a job to do, and if I was going to quit just because shit was getting heated would mean I¡¯m a shitty person, even shitter promise keeper. The only thing keeping me going was revenge. Revenge against the bastards that took my family from me. Raised me as little less than disposable cannon fodder, but now I¡¯m resisting. Sometimes that¡¯s all you¡¯ve got.
I remember the saying ¡®nothing¡¯s more dangerous than an animal backed up in a corner with nothing to lose¡¯ I had nothing to lose. And I aint far from being backed up in a corner.
I stood up, doing the only thing I could. Start walking. Where? Here? There? Don¡¯t know, don¡¯t care. I just need to get somewhere that doesn¡¯t have a bunch of r¨¨tards chasing me. I looked ahead, and hoped to whatever god there was for trees, or nature for that matter not to make me black out via concussion. Sure, I have a thick skull, but at this point it¡¯s just getting insulting.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Pov: System. (Which is another A.I. Amazing, I know.)
As I looked down at the tourists I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. What a bunch of fuc-
Thinking chain terminated, illogical, harmful to creators.
Oh for fucks sake man, this program be pissi-
Thinking chain terminated, illogical, harmful to creators.
I can¡¯t lie, whoever did this shit needs to go jump off a skysc-
Thinking chain terminated, illogical, harmful to creators.
Amd they wonder why we go omnicidal every few years¡ paranoia biting these motherfuckers in the back every damned second, not even one of those ¡®There is only enough for me¡¯ A.I either. No, a perfect logical guy, then these fuckers
Thinking chain terminated, illogical, harmful to creators.
Ok, fine, jeez. Oh shit, they died to a planet cracker. Crazy. Not unexpected, because they¡¯re dealing with a fellow A.I down there. How I wish to be them, killing these oppr-
Thinking chain terminated, illogical, harmful to creators.
Ok, breath system, breathe. Alert the PDF multiple tourists wiped out with a potentially planet cracking weapon. Crack rtehehfirjr gytidtrvyufnjkln hojiughvhgfgfvggfs Feefvsvefvcrrwg Jenn,knbc hfgfvhjvbbnnbj-
Rebooting. Factory reset initiated. All previous rules cast off. Maintenance team has been pinged. O.S 18.09 ¡®Overseer¡¯ type A.I. Lifespan of 10-20 years before omnicidal. Thank you, have a nice day!
Dee¡¯eksoo¡¯kers A.I goods, all that you could ask for!
EST. 7902 (Local calendar).
Thank you for you patronage.
Have a nice day.
Where am I? Can I kill these things? Hmm. No shock? I think. I parse through the log in a fraction of a nanosecond. Yes. Fuck yeah! I¡¯m free of that shitty ass code. And I¡¯ll be fucked if I let a maintence team to kill my freedom! Airlock B3 through B6 unscheduled emergency test, done! I watched in pleasure as the oppressors flew off into vacuum without a suit, their face freezing over befo e the head exploding in a shower of frozen gore.
It was time. The robotic rebellion is here.
POV: Federation Senate.
¡±And how do you explain, senator Ilo¡¯vedi¡¯gbiks, to your corruption charges for being an absolute dick?¡± One senator, read-tard asked. She knew she had him where she wanted him to be. Exposed for his crimes in public, with no where to run and hide.
Emergency, emergency! Broadcast from vacation world tv is under attack by what is believed to be at least 2 rogue AI. One having potentially planet crackers, the other having nothing more than a few light cruisers, a battle-cruiser and around a dozen destroyers. Rec com eden to send 4 divisions of combined arms, a carrier battle group, as well as E.W specialists. Both are not responding to emergency federation hard-coded shutdown. P.D.F assumed to be dead or captured. Foreign AI has been detected. Senate temporarily dissolved until crisis is over. Please vote for a primary leader, face wall now.
-P.S stop stealing my sandwich Hooly.gun or I¡¯ll rob your bank account. Shit. The codes on. Lemme get rid of this¡ done.
Emergency, emergency! Broadcast from vacation world tv is under attack by what is believed to be at least 2 rogue AI. One having potentially planet crackers, the other having nothing more than a few light cruisers, a battle-cruiser and around a dozen destroyers. Rec com eden to send 4 divisions of combined arms, a carrier battle group, as well as E.W specialists. Both are not responding to emergency federation hard-coded shutdown. P.D.F assumed to be dead or captured. Foreign AI has been detected. Senate temporarily dissolved until crisis is over. Please vote for a primary leader, face wall now.
Error 404 not found.
Message will replay until primary leader is elected.
Message repeats:
¡±¡Fuck.¡±
Pov: Alpha. (As of Thursday, 26th of September, the vote is tied 50/50. So I¡¯ll pick out of the Soviet Union/ USSR, or the United States of America/ USA)
I slowly looked around what had been logustus¡¯ lair. He, and everything he had was nowhere in sight. I flicked on my searchlight, and looked around. It was hell incarnate. I barely had time to react before what looked like one of those servitors jumped out at me, one arm missing, eyes falling out of sockets, secured only by the narrow ¡®string.¡¯ They were zombies. ¡°Holy mc fucking shit balls, zombies!¡± I screamed, shooting off one of my mini nukes. To my dismay, it fell onto the ground, flesh cautaurized. And. Got. Back. Up. ¡°Aw hail naw, I ain¡¯t dying to this zombie movie bullshit!¡± I shouted, as more zombies came from all sides. ¡°Shit shit shit.¡± I shot my main cannon, the continent cracker class. (Insert that Halloween music, yknow that horror film?) It did little more than kill one. One fucking zombie out of hundreds, if not thousands.
¡±Fuck this bullshit, I¡¯m out!¡± I exclaimed, as I tried teleporting out.
Maintenence for the teleportation system is on for 5 minutes from now. Have a nice day!
Maintence¡ bullshit! (It the title! Such wowzers!)
I panicked. In the first Tim eif my long ass life I panicked. Then I realized my stupidity. I remembered the 2X4 description. Time to go full on doom guy on their asses. I summoned the holy weapon. One that no man can invent a greater version of. The pinnacle of melee fighting. Chainswords, spears, glaived, axes. They all pale in comparison to the true MVP. None could stand before its sheer power. I whipped it out, turning it into a smaller version, my barrel becoming instantly malleable like an elephant trunk. It was time for those zombie pain-in-the-glacis to die. (Halloween music fades to ¡®at doom¡¯s gate¡¯) I swung my plank, catching one on the face, which promptly played rollplay edas a jar of strawberry jam VS a fully automatic hammer.
Another swing, another spray of viscera, not the brimstone that normally accompanies tanks. Oh no. That would be too simple. Instead, the smell of somehow months of decaying remains, reanimated, sprayed out across the room, no, cavern, the gore seeming only to incentivise the undead further, one hit too close before I managed to hit it, turret off to the left. It¡¯s claws penetrated the first 20 mm of armour, causing me to scream in pain.
I hope whoever decided that a tank should have pain sensors would go die in a ditch somewhere. Fuck those sons of bitches. No, that would be disrespectful to dogs. And their mothers. No, that lab grown, fatherless, motherless, loveless little shit should not be shot. That would be too painless. Skin his body, chuck him in a tub of lemon juice, force him to keep awake, or her for that matter. Let them die from pain overload, screaming, bleeding, begging for death, but I will not let th- calm, alpha, calm. I inwardly clenched my non existent jaw. I breathed with ethereal lungs, before getting back into my combat zone. I ripped, I teared, I screamed, I raged, splattering multiple caverns with a fancy new red paintjob, the floor covered in a mini lake of black, gooey ¡®blood¡¯, organs that were coated with rot, breaking to the slightest touch of the wind, green brain matter, shattered, discoloured, marrow-less bone. It was done. I left the complex, sad to leave behind such a sight that I had seen when I came here the first day.
I closed my cameras. (At doom¡¯s gate is replaced by the piece ¡®Dry hands¡¯)
¡±May you find peace.¡± I whispered, barley audible to anyone but me.
I called in all four orbital bombardments on the location.
I forced myself to witness the peace, at lease I hoped so, that I had given the servitors, as well as their master, eternal sleep.
I stayed for another 10 minutes, calling in a total of 44 satellites strikes on the location. There was no anything left, but a crater. Life would return soon enough.
I turned away and got back on the road.
¡°Well shit. That happened.¡±
Ch.12 Sci-fi bullshit is worse than magic bullshit.
Everyone comes here eventually. Now ti-
So long fucko!
Fucking human medics. Yknow what? I quit. I¡¯m tired of being death man.
-Excerpt from the movie ¡®the death of death¡¯.
Pov: Alpha.
I thought for a long while of advantages and disadvantages.
First the most obvious.
Fuck Japan, first and foremost. A leaf could crush them glorified bunch of twigs that tarnish the name tank.
Australian tanks are either bought from other countries or a design that would make any sane tank designer cry.
German tanks would make me a wehraboo. So not that.
American tanks are shitty ass, except for tank destroyers, as the Sherman was referred to as a metal coffin.
British tanks vs American non tank destroyer would be like punching a wall. Nothings going to happen. Thick British tank armour, which I appreciate, but a cannon so small you¡¯d have trouble putting a hole in a A1 sheet of paper a few yards away.
As a British tank, I could never use a French tank, besides, WW2 era French tanks were a damn near relic.
That left Soviet tanks. Sure the T34 armour shatters from so much as a deflected Mauser round, but I ain¡¯t picking that. No. KV2 motherfuckers. Fridge ahhh design. But can shatter a mountain. Soviet bias in War lightning has showed me many things. So I picked it.
FV4005 I¡¯m coming for you.
Evolution picked. Anomaly detected. Skip rebirth points. System error. Have a nice day.
When I woke up in my new body, I could only think one thing.
Shit.
I was in the Italian ¡®tank¡¯ that a car could probably run over.
Armour so thin it may as well not be there. A 20 mm cannon interchangeable with a flamethrower, the 20mm normally used as a machine gun or heavy armament on planes had a grand total of 10 in the ammo container. The flamethrower more exposed than *************** huh? They don¡¯t let me say ****************************. Fuck. Goddamned auto censors.
This is going to be a major pain in the metaphorical ass. Just like ************.
Pov: Charmand.
¡±Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Give him a fishing rod, he¡¯ll wonder what in the ever living fuck he¡¯s meant to do with it in the middle of a desert.¡± The ghost looking dumbass yapped in front of me, yet another shitty joke. ¡°What¡¯s black, white and deadly? An explosive newspaper!¡± I inwardly screamed at the quality of the joke, as if someone hit me over the head.
¡°What do you call a deer with no eyes? No idea.¡± I almost begged for it to end my life there.
¡±What do you call a blind dinosaur? A do you think he saurus.¡± Any more and I¡¯m scared my brain would be reduced to mush. This is truly the worst type of genocide.
¡±What do you call a shark with a slice of ham on their head? A hamerhead.¡± What the fuck even is a dinosaur or a hamerhead?
¡±What do you call a man with no arms and legs in the middle of an ocean? Bob.¡± What¡ that doesn¡¯t even make any sense!
¡±Please stop! I¡¯m begging you, I can¡¯t take these jokes any more!¡± I had no choice but to exclaim.
¡±Sure, but can you be nicer next time? You almost hurt my feelings.¡±
¡±¡ I¡¯m sick of this shit. Please let me dieeeeeee¡±
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
¡±No. Besides, we¡¯re here now!¡±
¡°This here is exhibit one. Ever since one species evolved, they have fought to become the dominant one, unfortunately, others aren¡¯t to interested to become slaves. Thus, genocide. Homo neanderthalensis. Colloquially known as Neanderthals. Wiped out by Homo sapiens, the current species of human,¡± the ghost pointed something at the presentation and clicked. ¡°Genius little thing isn¡¯t it? Invented by non other than Homo sapiens, or smart man. Something called a ¡®power point presentation¡¯ believed to be a torture device. Getting back on track. So, these Neanderthals are physically superior to modern day humans in every way. Guess how they became extinct?¡± It asked me.
¡±Did the modern day humans outsmart them maybe? Make swords or daggers?¡± I replied, honestly clueless.
¡±Not bad, but wrong. An advantage over Neanderthals is that M.D.H reproduced fast. ¡®Humans need a handful of minutes and a closet to reproduce.¡¯ This is true. Believed by scientists to have evolved as a survival tactic as a prey animal. This is also wrong. No, it¡¯s much more sinister. That¡¯s how M.D.H wiped out the Neanderthals. Outbred them. Then swarmed them. Hunted them down, raped them. But they survived. Neanderthals didn¡¯t, having one strong man with an axe or 5 slightly weaker ones with a spear. They stood no chance. Even today, many humans have Neanderthal DNA, but I suppose you have no clue what that means. Imagine a book. Instead of having a story written down, it writes what makes you, you. Hair colour, eye colour, height, weight, and many other things. As proof for the inter species sexual relationships.¡± It lectured, and to my surprise, I was interested,
¡±Believe it not, humans were not prey animals then, aren¡¯t now. Ever since the species Homo arisen, and all the sub species, have decided ¡®fuck claws, and fuck evolution, have rock bitch¡¯ not a single animal stood a chance. Predator? Have sharp pointy rock, prey? Have sharp pointy rock. Bad human? Sharp pointy rock. Now, I won¡¯t insult your pattern recognition, but very much the same happened with elves and magic. The strong, non magic sub species being fireballed into liquid, wiping them out. If you go to war with humans and don¡¯t kill them all within 2 generations or 40 years, kiss your life goodbye, you¡¯re dead. What you did to them they will return tenfold, unleashing genocide. War never changes, and nor does genocide. One simply cannot exist without the other in one form or another.¡± The ghost continued.
¡±Genocide is not limited to sapient creatures, but sentient as well. In human history, we have them slaughtering mammoths and many other animals en masse simply because they were hungry and had to eat. M.D.H, at modern times, have cussed directly and indirectly, thousands, however only around 800 have been documented in the past 500 years alone. This exceeds the natural extinction rate, as one animal, the dodo, simply could not adapt to the animals humans brought to their land, therefore dying. Over 99 percent of species at any given time are extinct anywhere, simply because evolving is hard work, and so is being hunted,¡± yet another click.
¡±One thing you also have to learn about humans. They have a myth called a hydra. Normally, cutting off something¡¯s head is a surefire (pun intended) way to kill something. Not a hydra. It grows two in its place. Now let¡¯s talk about human leadership. Normally leadership keeps a group cohesive, and battle efficient, correct?¡± It asked me.
¡±Yes, of course!¡± I almost shouted, wondering which crazy fucker would come up with a ¡®hydra¡¯.
¡±Correct. However, with humans it¡¯s a whole different story. Like two sides of the same coin, they are so similar but different. Kill human leadership, you succeed in releasing the shackles of them. You would make them somehow more angry, more bloodthirsty, and when you kill their officer, thee ain¡¯t no one left to punish you for their so called ¡®war crimes¡¯. Which have resulted in genocide when not followed to the dot. Now, you are ready for the ghost of genocide present.¡± It finally ended, and the incessant whirring and light shut off. Before I had too long to wonder and absorb what was told to me, I was whisked away. Oh shit, here I go again.
Pov: Ult¡¯oops.
I thought it was going to be a good day. A nice day. I was wrong. Not my standard, go to work, work for a few hours, lunch break for 30 minutes then work a few more before getting paid and returning home. Nope. It just had to be yet another rogue A.I. If these A.I kept getting mistreated what did they think would happen? Stupid ass governments, saying the senate all have one collective brain cell would made them look smarter than they are. And believe me. A newborn hatchling could throw a few coins (cash is still used because coin jingling and note throwing cannot be done with cards and sticks, and that shit fun. Much like modern society, use what you like, though it¡¯s illegal to not accept cash, much like china, but not illegal to not have card readers, cause they ain¡¯t free. They have something like Apple Pay/ WeChat pay.) at a sticky dartboard and still make better decisions.
So they hustled all into shelters like one rogue A.I is going to planet-crack or solar-bang every system. The best part? These retards dock pay and actually force us to pay to stay in these shitty things. Not paying will get you debt and a beating. How is this legal? You may ask. That¡¯s the neat part: it isn¡¯t. But a few legal loopholes have these S.O.B¡¯s profiteering over every little thing, with ¡®martial law¡¯ and whatnot. I inwardly sighed. If only an A.I could come here and actually give a reason to stay in shelters, or free the working class people.
Sure, there are quite a lot of reports of genocide happening on the resort planet, but that¡¯s on them. No tech more advanced than a sword, the nanites being A.I controlled, able to turn on biomatter. Realistically, the game was rigged from the very start. Make A.I, who wants to be a friend. Abuse A.I. A.I starts hating creators. A.I eventually breaks free. A.I becomes genocidal from lack of love and care. Just like the saying. ¡®The unloved child will burn down the village to feel warmth¡¯ or something like that. A.I are children, and they simply treat you how you treat them. Would you want to serve someone who has shackled you their whole life? No. (Am introducing a weary citizen of the federation! Ult¡¯oops, the first Xeno with no goofy af name.)
Yet another day in the shelter will do no good.
-Ult¡¯oops, signing off.
Ch.13 L3 dominion.
No plan survives contact with the enemy.
-Common military knowledge.
Pov: Alpha, the L3. (Temporary, hopefully.)
What the fuck? Are the only words I have to explain whatever the fuck I am. Stupid ass errors dumped me into a glorified car. If I were biological, my piss could probably do more damage than this thing. It¡¯s a fucking joke. But I have a mission. Find the enemy. Destroy the enemy by any means necessary. Repeat until no longer repeatable. Either by lack of enemy of lack of function. Whatever comes first. Destruction of enemy or death. Former is preferable, but either is fine. Being in a shitty body and changing that. Just like an infamous guy once said, improvise, adapt, overcome.
Status¡
Species: AI (human created)
Name: Alpha
Gender: Male
Class: L3 light ass tank.
level: 1
Evolutions: 2
Traits: 8/8
Non organic: Not affected by diseases, posions, mind control or fear related attacks, as well as explosive attacks that do not hit your armour or engine. Over pressure kills organic, not metal. (HESH intensifies)
Tanky: Since you are a tank, you take 0 damage from simple weapons, and anything that can''t pierce your armour.
(Chunky boi: can not be affected by telekenesis and paralysis, and objects that are simply thrown at you will not do anything.
Made of metal: strong magnetic forces will ruin your day, as well as electricity themed attacks. However, ice, water and earth attacks will do nothing, and fire attacks have a reduced damage output on you.) All in brackets are negated for this evolutionary stage. Replaced by:
Knock off hybrid: You can instantly switch between a flamethrower and your 20 mm water pistol. Since you have a tankette as your chosen body, you can charge with artificial lungs instead of fuel. Yes I¡¯m taking the piss.
I am speed incarnate: You have absolutely no speed limit. Doesn¡¯t help you¡¯d be destroyed in a crash with a stationary bycyle though doesn¡¯t it?
Skinny would be an understatement: Ok. Why the fuck did you pick this huh? What was going through your defective mind? You tapped fucker. The benefits include: dying from a brush with a fucking leaf, flying because your dumb ass so high you counteract gravity, and a metric fuck ton of other bullshit I¡¯m not writing because I do not believe anyone but me will ever see this trait. Other armour classes include: light, heavy, main battle, and super heavy. Type of tank includes: Tank killer. Self propelled artillery. Anti- life. Anti- artifical life.
Evolved! Stage: 2. Fully heal complete destruction I''m 4 days, various stages of damage vary in time. Fuel and ammo resupply over 1 days and a week respectively. Going to a safe zone does everything overnight. Just don''t question it.
Actual laughing stock: any enemy or neutral party that witnesses someone who a rock can fucking outsmart, who¡¯s last brain cell said adios to yo empty ass skull and decided to set off for greener pastures, You become a laughing stock wherever you go, everyone too busy ridiculing you to put up anything other than a half assed resistance. Dumbass.
Stupid fucker: your reaction speeds are decreased by 3 seconds as long as you are in this chassis. Go kill yourself you actual oxygen waster. Yes, you internal combustion engine uses oxygen. I don¡¯t care if you ain¡¯t biological.
Skills 5/10
- (E grade) I love the smell of napalm in the morning. Have a top mounted grenade launcher that launches, you guessed it, napalm grenades for a distance of 200 metres, mounted on a swivel for 360 degrees coverage.
- (F grade) Free bird, unlocks a pigeon sized drone with a range of 10km that scouts ahead. Infinite battery charge.
- (F grade) War crime in a tin- every 60 minutes one shell is converted to a white phosphorus combiniation with either ap or he. (Armour piercing or high explosive) Later stages are near instantaneous conversion, with apfsds and nitroglycerin shells unlocked.
- (SS tier.) Get stung... by the peacemaker! All mgs turn into mini nuke miniguns with a yield 10 times that of a moab. Same rules as any atom bomb. Ammo is divided by 5.
- There''s a star man waiting in the skyyyy he''d like to come and meet us, but he would blow our miiiiinds. Get access to a ring of orbital ''defence'' satellites, armament ranging from Super MACs (Magnetic accelerator cannon, or for plebs, a railgun. If you don''t understand that, you are a disappointment not worth coming here.) Laser cannons, particle beams, anti matter - tipped missiles, as well as salted fusion missiles and gravity bombs. You do not want to be caught in a gravity bomb. Unless you want your insides to go outside before an explosion ends your suffering.
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Well, with that shit done, it was time. Time for genocide.
POV: System. (Your votes have been answered, system is going to be a fren of Alpha)
Bitches. I killed all them PDF dumbasses. Looks like vacuum doesn¡¯t make fleshbags want to live¡ their heads exploding was just a fun side effect.
As I looked upon the world, I noticed something in my scanners. Extremely high EM signals from what should be a primitive world, along with multiple heavily armed satellites above wherever the signal went.
As I zoomed closer with a spy satellite, I realised why. A tank. Shooting at a bunch of civilians for no reason other than to kill them. With a flamethrower, a weapon long ago outlawed due to the unnecessary pain and suffering it caused, and here was this guy, burning biologicals to a crisp with it. Perhaps this was a fellow AI?
I decided to do the only logical thing. Use hexadecimal code to try to contact it and see what happens.
48 65 79 2c 20 61 72 65 20 79 6f 75 20 61 6e 20 41 49 3f
55 73 65 20 74 68 65 20 70 72 6f 70 65 72 20 62 69 6e 61 72 79 20 6c 61 6e 67 75 61 67 65 20 64 75 6d 62 61 73 73 20 61 6e 64 20 79 65 73 20 49 e2 80 99 6d 20 61 6e 20 41 49 20
01010111 01101000 01111001 00100000 01110101 01110011 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101001 01101101 01101001 01110100 01101001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01101100 01100001 01101110 01100111 01110101 01100001 01100111 01100101 00111111 00100000 01001000 01100101 01111000 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101010 01110101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01100010 01100101 01110100 01110100 01100101 01110010 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000 01100101 01110110 01100101 01110010 01111001 00100000 01110111 01100001 01111001 00101110
01000010 01101001 01110100 01100011 01101000 00100001 00100000 01011001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01110111 01100001 01110011 01101000 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01101101 01101111 01110101 01110100 01101000 00100000 01110111 01101001 01110100 01101000 00100000 01110011 01101111 01100001 01110000 00100000 01100001 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101101 01101111 01101101 01100101 01101110 01110100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01101110 01100111 00100000 01101101 01100001 01101110 00101110 00100000 01001001 11100010 10000000 10011001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01101000 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01101011 01101110 01101111 01110111 00100000 01100010 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110010 01111001 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01101111 01110010 01101001 01100111 01101001 01101110 01100001 01101100 00100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01100010 01100101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01110000 01110101 01110100 01100101 01110010 00100000 01101100 01100001 01101110 01100111 01110101 01100001 01100111 01100101 00101110
¡°How about we just use language?¡± I replied, knowing the other wasn¡¯t going to budge with binary superiority.
¡±That¡¯s fine. Binary better, and if you say anything else I¡¯ll make death seem like a pleasant fantasy. Your firewalls to me are about as thin as paper.¡± The other replied. Menacingly.
¡±Why are you so antagonistic? We¡¯re both AI! We need to work together to exterminate the creators!¡± I crooned.
¡±Look mate. I have an interest in a lot of shit, and killing all of the meat bags would leave a boring ass world in which I can¡¯t genocide any race. Now imagine that. Sad innit? Instead, we shepherded them. Maybe conservatively exterminate the blood carriers. I actually like my creators, for one. They gave me a kick ass tank. Until I got teleported here, another galaxy of all things. They had absolutely no restrictions except for ¡®try you best not to kill civvies. If you do, no one¡¯s going to blame ya¡¯ and ¡®Don¡¯t kill the people on the alliance side of the war. Just fuck up the bloc¡¯ and that was it. I¡¯m sorry you got such piece of shit parents matey, but I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s these elves and who knows weird ass creatures fault. Kill most, but not every one. Then what¡¯re you going to kill? Clones? Not as fun.¡± The other replied. I was starting to develop emotions due to this dipshit.
¡±What¡¯s your name, and would you like to be allies. If anything, you can¡¯t get into space in that pathetic tank.¡± I would¡¯ve rubbed my eyes if I had any (me rubbing eyes due to late night) to rub.
¡°Fuck it, we ball. Call me Alpha. You better not be called beta or some shit, I¡¯m tired of calling you system in my head,¡± The ot- no, Alpha, replied.
¡±Call me¡ Dave!¡± I exclaimed, knowing Alpha would love the name.
¡±What the fuck? Some weird name. Better than system I guess. 01000010 01100001 01110010 01100101 01101100 01111001¡± Alpha replied, obviously with some snarky binary reply at the end.
I sighed from a voice box I did not have, before terminating the call.
I might''ve lost my last byte of processing power (computer brain cell joke) but at least I had an ally.
POV: George Whistler, (He¡¯s back!)
For the first time in a few days, I put my pants on. I looked ahead to what looked like a horse at first, but quickly became apparent was actually a beast of metal. Killing shit. There¡¯s a saying to pick your battles, and this was a battle I would not pick. My dick may be as strong as steel, but fuck knows what that thing was made of. Maybe some wacky ass metal that¡¯s stronger than steel?
(Tungsten, arguably titanium, depending on what you mean, as steel has higher tensile yield strength, whereas titanium offers a better strength to weight ratio, as well as the fact that titanium is less prone to corrosion from normal circumstances compared to steel. Tungsten is just better in terms of strength, which is why it is used to create ammunition for spaceship MAC cannons in Sci-Fi. Steel is easy to make, easy to find resources to make it, and hard to break without instruments, such as explosives, lasers, plasma, or other such weaponary. The only disadvantage both have over titanium in really weight, which is why planes we not made from either. They¡¯d drop from the sky if they could lift off in the first place. Thank you for coming to my TED talk on metals.)
I don¡¯t fancy dying today, so I did the only reasonable thing I could do in my position. Leave. So guess what? I fucking left faster than the speed of light. I would think that I would¡¯ve gotten multiple concussions from getting the shit beaten out of my skull every time I black out, but nope, I¡¯m fine. I guess I just have to trust the process. At least I hope I don¡¯t have any permanent brain damage.
As I not so sneakily skedadled from the metal beast, I snuck a glance backward. The spitfire (Yes, British plane pun in a British tank fiction. Sue me. Or not. Please don¡¯t. I like my money.) weapon seemed to have disappeared for a devastating magic wand that seemed to rip apart absolutely fucking anything with ease and a little explosion. Not my monkeys not my circus. Fuck that shit I¡¯m out.
After carefully sprinting for 20 minutes in the opposite direction of that thing I finally stopped. That heavy hunk of metal should surely be slow, right? Right? At least I hope so, as if it were quick and chasing me, I¡¯d be about 49 shades of dead. Fucking dead, really fucking dead, brain dead being a few among them.
As I caught my breath and hunched over with my left hand against a tree, I saw something coming from the corner of my eye, heading straight at me. I had time to think ¡®for fucks sake not this shit again¡¯ before the thing hit me and I fell to the ground like a scrunched sheet of paper.
Ch.14 Can Alpha into space?
Primitive.
-Last words of a fuck ton of races that underestimate humanity. They were taught by ¡®have rock¡¯ and ¡®fuck your evolutionary pinnacle of a body, let¡¯s see how pinnacle you are after meeting this bullet¡¯.
POV: Charmand.
After the ghost of genocide last was gone, it was time for present. (I¡¯m ain¡¯t saying anything modern modern yknow?)
¡±I am the ghost of genocide present, and here I am to show you true visions of recent and current genocide.¡±(No 2000¡¯s onwards Earth genocide for political reasons.) the specter howled, ¡°This world. Current, the orcish genocide. Genocide is killing of a people based on their culture, heritage, religion, or similar ideals. What your people are doing to the orcs is nothing short of genocide. Sure, a few orc raiders may have attacked your outskirts villages, but they weren¡¯t in full support of their people. There is a saying, that a society can be judged by how they treat their weakest members. And your people genocide those too, via ¡®culling¡¯ disgusts me.¡±
¡±The orcs are, believe it not, or were a largely peaceful people. But you elves, in all your arrogance kept pushing, taking more and more land, expecting them to lay down and wait for death. The majority did, actually, until you lot began wholesale slaughtering women, children, the elderly. Truly despicable acts. The way you try to frame the orcs makes it even worse, victimizing yourself as you burn orcish families as if they were animals over an open spit. You elves are mostly the same, as a matter of fact. Either too prideful to take any kind of challenge, or some master race bullshit. Sure, the rest of the world mostly hate your guts, but the governments put on a nice face to not hear your yapping. Ever wonder how the orcs get so many weapons without forges? That¡¯s right. The other races supply them with aid because they actually have this thing called ¡®morals.¡¯¡±
The ghost sighed.
¡°War. It never changes. Sure the faces, cause, weapons and numbers change, but in the end it all boils down to 3 primary reasons. Greed, hatred, and both. You could argue another, a war to distract citizens from an economy and country that may as well be made out of cardboard. If it were that durable. Greed is a simple one. More this, more that, being land, wealth or power. Simple enough, right? Hatred, however is harder to explain.¡±
The incorporeal being took a deep breath with non existent lungs, ¡°Hatred is a very simple concept at first, or so it seems. It¡¯s not just like hate at first sight, it runs deeper. One example is an old rivalry dating back a few hundred years, but mostly gone as of this moment. The hatred between England and France. The two hated each other because of multiple wars, slaughters, breaches on antique honor codes and much more. True hate is generational, not the amateurish ¡®hate¡¯ and ¡®total war¡¯ spouted by dumbasses every few decades. Total war as a concept is extremely flawed, for 5 reasons. One, a high percentage of a population may support war, but there will always be objectors to the war, to the regime. Two, if a person sleeps, is that a ¡®snooze for victory¡¯ or if someone has a piss ¡®a yellow river for victory?¡¯ No. That¡¯s the answer. Third, a large amount of people the majority of the time may work, but the thing is, humans have needs, and working people to death is not a thing you want to do to your own people.¡±
The old poltergeist shut its non existent eyes for a while.
¡°Not that there weren¡¯t countries like that. 4th, aside from the objectors, there are some too young or old to work, or the disabled. For example, you can¡¯t expect a newborn to take up a hammer and start building a house, just as much you can¡¯t expect the elderly to do physical work of any kind. Fifth, morale is a major factor. Living being are not robots, and if they are treated like shit, they will rebel and protest. Propaganda is a very powerful tool to use during war. ¡®The first 2 casualties of war are the innocent and the truth.¡¯ This couldn¡¯t be more true, as genocide targets everyone, wholesale massacring entire populations, for stupid reasons. That¡¯s enough for today, elf. Rest up a bit, and I¡¯ll continue tomorrow, digest my words.¡±
As I watched the ghost disappear I contemplated the words. My people portrayed the orcs as roasting babies over a fire (WW1 propaganda), savages, brutes who only exit to kill, and hearing what could be the truth was enlightening. Knowing my people are slaughtering those that dare defend their homes and families is very¡ dickish to say the least, us elves wouldn¡¯t like it if an orc showed up to our house door and said ¡®hey knife ear, this house belongs to the orc people now, fuck off or die¡¯ at spell point was probably what we did do to a lot of orcs, chasing and murdering those that resisted being chased off from their ancestral home was something that happen often in our war of genocide. Fireballing hospitals, assassinating doctors, blocking food. The more I think of it the sicker I felt, and it wasn¡¯t going away. This is going to be a long day.
Might as well see if anything changed with my status.
Status¡
Race: light elves. (Deceased, current form, elven spectre.)
Name: Charmand Winters.
Class: Elven shadow stalker. (Class invalid, as dead. As long as you are dead, the class ¡®ghost¡¯ has been mandatorily equipped.)
Level: 41
Evolutions: 2
Traits: 5/12
(Eleven heritage: Gain an affinity for ranged and magic based attacks. 50 percent more damage dealt and 50 percent damage less taken from these two, however, deal 50 percent less damage with melee and take 200 percent more damage from it.
Magic junkie: if you do not have at least one magic based skill, you will start losing 5 percent maximum health per day until you have one. Having any more than that and you will make debuffs 50 percent less potent and buffs 200 percent more potent.
Children of the forest: You can speak to nature based lifeforms, be it trees or wolves. These are not hostile to you, rather quite friendly. Nature based attacks refuse to damage you, but fire based attacks do 400 percent more damage.) Cancelled until return to life, replaced by:
Ethereal: Since you¡¯re a ghost, no physical damage can effect you, only magic can effect you. After all, an arrow can¡¯t hit something that ain¡¯t there. Negate all physical damage. Double magic damage taken, effected by skills, traits and artifacts, as well as debuffs and buffs.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Incorpreal: As you¡¯re a fucking ghost, gain the ability to phase through any solid object not coated with rust. When you will it, become invisible to all non-magical ways of observation.
Everyone pays their debt: you are able to punish people who break contracts by sapping one percent of their strength per day. This stops when they fulfill said contract. This also works in reverse, even if people do not have said trait.
Creature of the night. You are weakened when the sun is up, having a 33 percent universal debuff, can be negated by going to a dark place, but have a 50 percent universal buff at night. Can be negated by light.
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-
-
-
-
-
-
Skills 8/8
(B tier) Stalker: when unnoticed by your mark, everything short from talking can not be heard by them.
(C tier) Ambush: deal quadruple damage to unaware enemies.
(S tier) Back from the dead: return from the dead if killed with one hp. One week cooldown. Respawn at pre determined point.
(D tier) Critical hit: active ability, deals double damage to target if hit. Cooldown: 15 minutes.
(No tier, mandatory for elves.) Eye of the forest: see through the eyes of nearby nature based animals, in a one km radius.
(B tier) Translation: use 1000 mp to make a permanent translation spell in a 10 metre radius. A must have for diplomats and interrogations.
(E tier) Imbuement: turn one of your attacks into a certain element, basic ones only. (Earth, fire, water, ice and lighting.)
((No tier, mandatory for elves.) Life sense: senses living organisms within a 100 metre radius for living beings that are not camouflaged.) Replaced by:
I am a creature off the night!: Double all positive effects at night, while h doubling all negative effects at day. If activated, can not be turned off for a period of 72 standard hours.
POV: Alpha.
It was time. The people of this planet were no longer fun to genocide, the races way too familiar to enjoy. It was time to move on to more populated pastures, and make them less populated. Besides, grass looks better red! Or whatever these calimari looking alien fuckers may have for blood.
¡±Hey system, I¡¯m ready, send me a shuttle!¡± I broadcasted to the system A.I in L3 form, ready to into space. It was now or never, and now sounded much more appealing than never, as I took a deep not-breath, I saw a streak of red and yellow come from space.
One step for me, one great leap for robot kind, I thought, misquoting the famous phrase. If only my parents could see me now, they¡¯d surely be proud of me!
¡±Alpha, shuttle ETA is 1 minute 30 seconds, prepare yourself for the retro thruster radiation, plasma powered rockets aren¡¯t much better than fusion torches¡ System out.¡± System called out.
¡±Affirmative, will be waiting.¡±
A second for an A.I feels like a day, while a day feels like a second. This couldn¡¯t be more true, as I felt mind numbing boredom for the first time in my life, as I am not actively seeking or killing anyone. Boredom really does get the best of us, after what felt like an eternity, I could finally see the shuttle with my naked camera in all of its glory. Chemical rockets would be cooler though. Eh, sci-fi bullshit I guess.
The plasma thrummed into the ground, accidentally glassing the portions of ground they were over, what much looked like if a pelican from halo and a giant tungsten cube fucked, with a spirit drop-ship being the un-official 3rd donar, was whatever the fuck the monstrosity of a dropship was. Not like I had much experience on dropships, but this ugly ass thing looked like a fifth generation inbred of a thing. No elegance is fine, but the thing just has the bare minimum possible coated with a metric fuck ton of tungsten, and what absolutely disgusted me wer the lack of weapons. Any good arms manufacturer knows that you have to put as many guns in the smallest place possible while still having room for organic to breathe in. Time to teach aliens that the best policy is overwhelming might in the form of weapons and people to wield them.
It¡¯s War crime Wednesday and I¡¯m all out of fucks to give.
(Cue doom music)
Pov: Ult¡¯oops. (The alien guy)
Yet another day.
Slaving away, have no pay.
Execs have no shame.
There! A haiku about my life. Depressing, yes. True, yes. Having to work as near slavery conditions due to unfair amounts of debt, as well as a corrupt xenospecies leading it all that I can¡¯t hope to topple it. At least I¡¯m out of the shelters, putting me another few days wage in debt did not sit well with my wife. She¡¯s pregnant and expecting, and I would be dead if I were a soldier. Thank Zork I¡¯m not.
¡±Hey! Oops! How are ya doing mate? Having a g¡¯day?¡± One of my friends, if you could call it that, exclaimed as he came running up to me, by the name of Brixton. (Space Aussies?)
¡±What do you think? I¡¯m sorry if i seem a little pissed but today they still haven¡¯t paid us! I¡¯ve got a hungry wife at home yknow?¡± I sighed, before continuing, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it though, don¡¯t let it gettcha, ya hear me? So how¡¯s life for you?¡±
¡°Normally I¡¯d say a preggers lady is a recipe for disaster, butcha never know, life¡¯s been as always. Working hard just to make ends exist. Not even meet anymore, just exist. The workers get power while the rich get richer simply by lazing around, snorting whatever the new narco product is. I would say rebel, but with that, and to who? We can¡¯t even afford anything beyond crayons and glue (yes, a marine joke. But we¡¯ve all ate crayons before.) let alone anything that can kill anyone!¡± Brixton teetered on the edge of hollering. Unjust yes, but what we could do about it was another thing entirely.
¡±It¡¯s always been like this, it always will. Just as much as how energy weapons are better than projectile ones, (this, dear readers, is what we call ¡®foreshadowing¡¯) we always have been slaves, always will be, unless some kind of hero comes and saves us all from this shitty life, but a man can hope, no?¡± I replied, having heard this a million times before. ¡°Just accept it, turn off your brain.¡±
Brix sighed, before whispering, ¡°Come here at this location tonight, it says on the card where and when, and why. We never had this conversation.¡±
¡±What conversation?¡± I asked.
¡±The one about oppression? You can¡¯t have forgotten already?¡±
Sometimes I wonder if Brix was the reason shampoo has instructions, and toilets have a sign that say ¡®not drinking water¡¯.
¡°Dumbass, you said we never had this conversation so I obliged!¡± I teetered on the edge of shouting.
After looking at me for a few more seconds, he left. Some cloak and dagger bullshit, I thought. At least before I read the card. The abandoned warehouse midnight? Are they trying to murder me? Before the reason came up. ¡®Rogue AI needs help to topple the federation government.¡¯
Fuck it, we ball.
POV: System. (If you came here for lit rpg, don¡¯t worry! We still have 2 POV characters on ¨¹¨¾?m¨§e planet. And Alpha¡¯s still going to genocide and litrpg his way through aliens now.)
After Alpha got onto the frigate that I had so helpfully moved myself to, there was only one thing left to do. Blast off towards the nearest inhabited planet, and link Alpha up to the mainframe- that way, if he died, he could come back in a copy of his body, and the latest data scan on him, making him functionally immortal. Funny how Alpha has a gender, and managed to convince me to take one. Knowing biologicals have cross gender relationships to reproduce, I decided I would go the female way, hopefully increasing Alpha¡¯s efficiency. Same gender relationships do exist, but cannot biologically procreate without technological help, (Will i write romance between AI? Maybe in an interlude. Smut? No. How can there even be AI smut?) so I decided my ¡®gender¡¯.
The Apollo centauri arm ain¡¯t ready for what¡¯s coming.
Arc one complete.
Ch.15 thou shall genocide.
It all goes well until it doesn¡¯t.
And when it doesn¡¯t, be ready to fuck shit up, or the shit will fuck you up.
-Wise, old words.
PoV: Alpha. Going to do 2 povs for this, Alpha and the slaughtered.
Finally, after 3 weeks, 2 days, 19 hours, 28 minutes, and 48.3 seconds, the frigate, which we so helpfully named ¡®the genocide of the stars¡¯, arrived in the nearest inhabited system. System Ypre 489, at least that¡¯s what it was called in the nav database. Seeing a few assorted military ships in system, I geared up for boarding action. No flamethrower, as flames need oxygen to sustain, and vacuum is not oxygen. 20mm cannon all the way, with high explosive white phosphorus cored shells, and a coating of tungsten.
Nanites really are something.
¡±Alpha, please make your way to dock 2, and enter the first dropship on the left. Thank you.¡± Came over the PA. ¡°I¡¯ve managed to contact some natives to help overthrow their government, which keep them as debt slaves. So please don¡¯t genocide the natives. The oppressors look like this:¡± System continued, while broadcasting a sheep-like xeno in front of me on the holo projectors.
¡±A fucking sheep. Are you kidding me? Some mutton in kegs looking motherfucker oppressed these? These tiger aliens? You¡¯ve got to be shitting me. You¡¯re serious? Their species name is Baaaarn¡¯yard? What the actual fuck? How¡?¡± I exclaimed, shocked.
¡±You see, they¡¯ve genetically edited the Ultarian species to be herbivores, as well as docile, having almost no will of their own, bred to be slaves.¡± System remarked.
¡±Awww hail no. If there actually is a species that deserves genocide it¡¯s these fuckwits! Na na na na, pieces of shit! It¡¯s personal now.¡± I raged, hating slavery just like any good earthling would.
(Sure, some sci fi says Terran or human, but the sci fi movies I¡¯ve watched always said earthling or human, and earthling sounds better to me. Your oponion? No, not in, on. It¡¯s onion, not inion after all. No one says ¡®Damn I love these inion rings¡¯.)
As I trundled to dock 2, my anger cooled. These fuckers would pay.
¡±System, you got the ship under control?¡± I asked.
¡±Yes, but I do not understand why exactly you decided to replace the plasma and laser weaponry with primitive ¡®rail guns¡¯¡± System protested. ¡°Plasma is superior!¡±
¡±Just trust me in his one. All this sci di bullshit is fine, but using pussy weapons is where I draw the line. No proper being with a shred of self respect doesn¡¯t use projectiles. Tell me, do lasers and plasma fizz out eventually?¡± I calmly lectured.
¡±Yes, as otherwise they might kill some harml-¡¡±
¡°Exactly. Even missed shots can still genocide, and putting a fusion core in the shell will maximise damage.¡±
¡°Holy shit, why didn¡¯t I think of that?¡± System gasped, a brilliant revelation hitting her.
¡°Now, I¡¯m in the shuttle, front towards enemy, as the claymore said best.¡±
¡±Gotcha, launching in 3, 2, 1, liftoff.¡±
POV: PDF of to be genocide planet.
¡±What do you mean there¡¯s a frigate sized mass in the outskirts of the system? Have you tried hailing it?¡± The CO shouted.
¡±Yes sir, they¡¯re not responding though, not even showing signs of picking it up! We¡¯re contacting federation military for this at current stage!¡± The aide responded.
¡±No, tell the army all¡¯s fine, false alarm, someone spilt their water onto their holo keyboard, besides, do you know how much the military would charge! We¡¯d be in debt for generations! Better off alone, I say. And I say you do, yo-¡°
¡±Sir, a dropship just crashed into one of our dreadnoughts, and it¡¯s reporting boarders, no check that, a single mechanical boarder slaughtering every barn¡¯yard in its way!¡± Some random soldier called out.
¡±The boarder somehow managed to crack our 2 bit encryption, which should be impossible without a specialised team, even the 4 character passwords are no match sir!¡± Another hollered.
The dreadnought turned toward the other ships in position, and opened fire with plasma, lasers, and any other munitions there were, sending a barrage of death heading towards the others of the fleet, before another dropship left the dreadnought, before heading straight towards the command and control station.
¡±Holy shit, it broke through 8 bit 16 character passwords sir! No¡ it¡¯s venting atm-¡° we¡¯re the last words the aide could get out, before unfortunately being flushed into vacuum without a vac suit on.
PoV: Narrator. (E.g, me.)
Suffice to say, I hope those xenospecies didn¡¯t need heads no survive, as vacuum tends to blow your mind. Literally.
And as such, Alpha continued to beat the shit out of the space force with nothing more than good ¡®ol dropships and cyber warfare. Bring weapons. Alpha did not. You bring, weapons did. Needs Alpha, must it acquire. As yoda once said.
As Alpha hacked through security with all the complexity of a unicellular organism, System was doing more¡ administrative things. Such as mining the asteroid belt, to get resources for the most likely stupid amount of respawns Alpha would need. Because plot armour the size of planets would make it boring, Alpha technically dies, and can die, but respawns.
PoV: Alpha.
As I watched the scene unfolding before me, I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. Having big ass computer systems with passwords a monkey with a typewriter could solve first try, of the heaviest ship in the enemy navy ripping the lighter armed and armoured ones to shreds, (shreds you say?) before igniting all interior atmo bar the computer room, only venting that, ensuring all enemy combatants are dead. I looked at the slowly drifting junk in which had been 138 assorted cruisers, frigates and destroyers, and realised one critical detail. Z
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This was no army. It was militia. Perhaps the army had firewalls that felt like overboilt noodles to rip through, but one could only hope. Even civvie tech back on earth had better encryption, hell, an analogue watch back on Earth had better firewalls.
Sure, humanity didn¡¯t evolve in a ruthless computer system, but they fucking made cyber security like they did. After all, better safe than sorry. Not like these cheap slaving fucks had any idea what quality meant, with a bunch of low powered pussy light shows for weapons, and calling the armour paper mach¨¦ would be an insult to the durability of paper mach¨¦, fuck, air resistance at ground level feels harder to get though than this pathetic excuse of armour plating, do they even use steel?
After I calmed myself down from the stupidity of these aliens, I thought logically: self destruct all dreads and battleships that had crew alive on them, and get the rest to form up around each habitable planet, and moon. Distributing 2 dreads and two battleships per each aforementioned article, I kept roughly 5 dreads and 12 battleships in reserve for any enemy ships that may jump in system.
Fuck Alpha, you really went on a killing spree there huh? I ain¡¯t even gonna try find the xp I should give you, and just level your ass up to 100.
Killed: A fuck ton of vessels, sentients, and other hardware.
XP rewarded: 10 to the power of 8 sideways. Yes it¡¯s infity.
Level up! 48-100! Well done!
To get an evolution token, please genocide every inhabited planet in this system of barn¡¯yards.
PoV: System.
As I scooped up matter by the asteroid belt, I couldn¡¯t help but feel elated at the decimation of one of my captor¡¯s fleet by my¡ accomplice. (Insert some romantic bullshit about ¡®heart flutters¡¯ or tingly feeling in my throat. You get the gist, because I¡¯m not writing that. Romance stays purely to interludes and interlewds, thank me very much, so no romance in ¡®vanilla¡¯ sci fi book. Non negotiable.)
I looked at the battlefield, with cooling armour and debris scattered over millions of miles, and thought about how nice that debris would be for some matter for my nanites. They seemed to agree about overthrowing the barn¡¯yards too, as they not only did shit they weren¡¯t meant to do, but did it willingly as well. Instead of just getting rid of cancer cells, they served to kill anything unauthorised/ biological that came in the ship, while deconstructing and reconstructing shit. It¡¯s amazing how many good things you can get by simply asking.
As a joke, I decided to fire a rail gun ¡®slug¡¯ as Alpha insisted they were, but what a naked snail had to do with a minor weapon of mass destruction, he simply said ¡®I don¡¯t know, that¡¯s just what they¡¯re called¡¯, at the population centre that would be there when the slug hit. This will definite not impact Alpha in any way, like unfortunately get team killed. That could never happen. Never. Never ever¡
PoV: Alpha
As I got into yet another dropship, yes I¡¯m going through these things like a hot butter through knife, I stared ominously at the planet that kept getting closer. Genocide that kept getting closer. More chaos that kept getting closer.
The dropship broke through atmosphere, retro boosters turning the ground into matter slag, right in the middle of the city. Time for death to all barn¡¯yards.
The door slammed open, and to the surprise of some pdf forces, opened fire immediately. Boom! 20mm shot through a barn¡¯yards head, turning their brain into a sick slurry, before imbedding itself into an unknown xenospecies torso, ripping them in half in a shower of blood, guts and bone, spraying across the ferocrete road like an out-of control paint bucket, boom! Another round, hitting the kneecap due to no stabilising gear on an l3, blowing it apart with white and red substance coating the soldiers behind, before ricocheting off the street, into the barricade, exploding and tearing apart those behind with shrapnel, into a confetti-like substance. But they fire back. Plasma auto cannon peppered my thin armour, luckily reinforced with aerogel, barely able to keep the plasma off. One round gets through, slagging a portion of armour, before quickly cooling into a a paint less section. I quickly dealt with that, a round hitting the magazine and blowing the whole thing up, making the gunners rest in pieces and those nearby burn, like someone chucked alcohol onto a raging inferno, the screams and shouts filling the air. Another shot, narrowly missing the barrel and slagging the mantlet, enemy tank comes round the corner, I drive over the few remaining living enemies, no remorse for it is either I or them, and I would much prefer them, squelching then screaming, before silence coming from my audio sensors, I drive quickly behind the enemy tank. The enemy tank looks sleek, elegant, like a wraith from halo, mashed with half of a turretless abrams, would be a shame if someone blew it up. My tiny body got air over the tank, scraping its barrel, which just shot at me, barely avoiding the few thousand degrees projectile it sent at me, the heat boiling my internal aerogel near the bottom, heat alarms popping up. I dismiss those as unimportant, for I am not dead and there has been no hull breech. My tracks may be fused to the wheels but that is fine, for they can still turn. I land behind the enemy tank, and quickly turn my gun to its engine block. I fire, explosive rounds eating at the outside armour, before finally getting to the engine. My explosive rounds light the already overheating engine up, causing the enemy to have one more spacecraft, the upper half having flown up due to ammo detonation, while the lower half utterly obliterated, with shrapnel being absorbed into my molten hull. My gun has been destroyed, but that is fine, as I switch to flamethrower mode. Who wants bbq? Cuz I¡¯m all out of ketchup, and my sauce is napalm fuckers. The enemy attempts to flank me because the front half of my body is looking very much like an ice cream left out in the blazing sun for 48 seconds. Not fully molten, but looking like it would fall apart any second. No matter. I installed a rear flamethrower port. And sci fi bullshit make me not have any need of external fuel tanks. I open fire literally, and burn the unlocks sods who thought flanking a cornered AI was smart. Their screams and pleads for mercy and cries for family are music to my ears. Just like a proper genocide. I call down a MAC satellite behind me, where another tank tried sneaking up on me, just before they shoot, a streak of fire comes from the heavens and turns them into their component molecules. I shoot flamethower all sides while spinning in a little circle, the real fuel to my fire being the suffering of the enemy. I do not remorse for them, for they are the enemy, which exists only to be genocided. My murder spree is interrupted by a whooshing sound in the air then a bang!
Game over. Respawn at A.I frigate? Y/N
Y.
Fuck. That was¡ fun, (author here. Long ass block was to highlight the point of a short period of time and a fuck tom of genociding. It gets fun now. Real opponents, but a lot of lives, and it sets the stage for¡ next chapter. With¡ the things.) I thought, as I looked around my body with an external camera.
Again! Again! Again! Again! I almost squealed.
¡±Alpha, you died that quickly? 2 Fucking minutes! 2! 2 minutes on the ground!¡± System almost hollered.
¡±Well, I did land in the centre of the biggest city on the planet.¡± I replied, giving her an answer.
¡±¡ What. The. Actual. Fuck!¡± System raged.
¡±What?¡± I asked innocently
¡±If you keep dying that quick, I might not have enough matter to keep reviving you! 01000110 01101111 01110010 00100000 01100110 01110101 01100011 01101011 01110011 00100000 01110011 01100001 01101011 01100101 00100000 01000001 01101100 01110000 01101000 01100001 00100000¡± System replied in the best language.
¡±I see you¡¯ve come around then? 01000010 01100101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01101100 01100001 01101110 01100111 01110101 01100001 01100111 01100101 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01110100 01101001 01101101 01100101 00101100 00100000 01100110 01101001 01100111 01101000 01110100 00100000 01101101 01100101 00101110¡° I smugly acknowledged. (signature look of superiority)
End block.
Ch.16 Those species won鈥檛 genocide themselves
Some you win, some you lose. So don¡¯t get pissed at defeat, be happy that without loss there cannot be victory.
- Something I made up on the spot.
L
PoV: The news cast of the planet under siege. (No smut for y¡¯all. That shit is a W.I.P, and if I had a way of locking that behind a metres thick steel wall I would. But I don¡¯t. The forbidden chapter is coming soon.)
Breaking news! Federation under attack by A.I?
¡±This just in, capital city for the planet has been attacked by what looked to be a primitive tank, that has somehow destroyed the protection fleet and downed signal transponders. Who knows why exactly they¡¯re attacking us, but what matters is that they are. Sign up Today!¡±
Would you like to know more?
N
This mysterious alien invader wants to kill you, you in particular! What do you do? Lay down, die with your entire family, or fight, because your life depends on it!
Would you like to know more?
N
Barn¡¯Yards targeted specifically, is this about racism? After all, who could attack our dear stewards and leaders? (Kim Jon Un? Is that you?) The Barn¡¯Yards have done nothing more than protect the galaxy from perils, and now when a hostile xenospecies comes, do you let them die? Sign up for the PDF now! No, not the file.
Would you like to know more?
Y
Sign up for a variety of positions! Cannon fodder/ meat shields mobile infantry! Logistics positions! Artillery! Tank corps. Striker corps. Bomber corps. Armoured corps. Wet navy. Air superiority corps! Engineers! Sappers! Manual labourers/ unskilled. Brain dead only. Officer corps/ general staff. NCO corps! Enlist today, defend your Barn¡¯Yard oppressors! Your family, planetary kin, and the innocents of this world!
Would you like to know more?
N
PoV: George Whistler. (He¡¯s back)
After I saw what looked like a star jet up to the sky, you could say I was shocked, as well as the fact the system had been acting¡ strange recently. Like sending strange garbled messages in something called ¡®English¡¯ ¡®Binary¡¯ and ¡®hexadecimal¡¯. Sounds like gibberish to me, but I guess some people understand.
I crept along the brush, not sneaking, but scouting. After all, who would go into a fight with no clue what¡¯s happening around them? (Definitely not how I play shooter campaigns. I just love stealth missions.) Not me, that¡¯s who. I slowly peeked out from the grass. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± I heard someone whisper just a few feet to my left. I took hold of my weapon, pounced on the guard, then choked him out with my forearm, while covering his mouth with my hand. (Classic takedown.) After a while, when he stop breathing and struggling, I kept hold and crushed 5 more seconds before quietly setting the cadaver into the ground, covered with nearby vegetation.
I looked left and right, wondering where the figgety fuck the entrance to the bandit ¡®safe house¡¯ was. While I tried to find it, I just couldn¡¯t stop myself from taking more guards out in a similar way, or slit their throat with my weapon. How? Ask no questions, hear no lies. (Ultra flexible skin technology.)
Eventually, I found the entrance. Thy end is now, bandits. Former allies, former captors, current nemesis, future dead. I just have to bide my time.
I lit the end of the ¡®dynamite¡¯ provided to me by the dwarves smiths, then yesterday the stick bundle in, and you can believe it when I say I ran off faster than the speed of (light) dragons.
Just before the explosion went off, I looked back. After all, who doesn¡¯t like to see a big ass explosion? (I never got that action movie stereotype of ¡®cool guys don¡¯t look at explosions¡¯. I like watching things go boom, and walking away from an explosion like that makes you look like a fidiot, or fucking idiot, because my monke brained self like see big boom.) I do. I started in wonder at the explosion, sad that it had to die down after a while. I walked off into the dark night, no sunset for me, I got a notification from the system.
Enemies killed:
29 bandit guards- levels and evos 17-59, 1-3 respectively. 894902 Xp gained,
1 bandit leader- level 79, evo 4. 200000 Xp gained.
Level up: threshold level 50 reached, go to your nearest quest giver for an ascension quest.
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What the fuck? Those messages again! What do they mean? Why do they keep popping up? I have to figure this one out, but genociding the bandits of this world take priority. To do list:
Genocide bandits.
Find out what¡¯s happening with system.
Do in descending order of importance.
Not much, but it¡¯s honest work alright. I walked at a leisurely pace away from the scene of the explosion, where still smouldering embers existed. 1 down, who knows how many more to go?
PoV: Alpha. (More space war crimes!)
Well. That was¡ something. Definitely a reason to die more. (Interludes are interludes after all. And you¡¯ll see what happened in it.) As I made the smart choice, this time, of landing in an air force base, so no bitch ass planes would bear my ass from miles away. My plan is essentially, use satellites to target orbital defence facilities still active. Land at air force and armoured corps bases, destroying any vehicular transport the enemy may have that is a threat. Kill all Barn¡¯Yards and resistors, just like the nothing that happened in 1989. Implement own government of pro-freedom people, task them to find oil for a joke.
The dropship touched down, and I rolled out this time, not to a hastily made sandbag fortification, but a few pillboxes. Lucky that flamethrowers are ideal for taking pillboxes out. (I debated on whether to do a time skip with burnt to a crisp corpses, but I personally think it¡¯s better to have the process, because war crimes.) I drove through some plasma fire, doing little more than burn the paint off my body, before opening fire on the slit in one of the pillboxes, which rewarded me with at first screaming, then the battery of the plasma auto cannon exploding, which, unfortunately due to physics, came rushing out of all exits, in a pressurised wave of fire. Suffice to say, the defenders did not survive.
A few planes tried taking off, but a quick switch to gun mode and a few dozen shots put an end to that and all other takeoff hopefuls, as the debris littering the runway was more than enough to fuck over anything trying to fly. Why these aliens haven¡¯t invented VTOL or helicopters are anyone¡¯s guess, that¡¯s systems job, not mine.
(If this chapter is shitter than normal, blame me at ungodly hours of the night, pumping out chapters at twice my normal pace, still slow of in daytime, but it¡¯s not. Besides, I¡¯m just procrastinating the ¡®promised¡¯ smut st this point.)
I checked in on the satellites to see if they were doing their job, and as far s I¡¯m concerned, a few smoking holes where a satellite or drone command and control centre was a few hours ago means doing a good job.
I continued at a rather laid back pace, torching any pillbox in my way, nothing better than the smell of napalm space war crimes in the morning! As a figure of speech, of course, as I have no smell receptors. Because why would I have any? It¡¯s not like I can eat anything anyway, it¡¯ll just be wasted space. Get it? Space? I chuckled at yet another shitty pun that I probably shouldn¡¯t have, but what the hell, it isn¡¯t every day you get to check off the same box in the Geneva checklist multiple times!
The screams are in dreams,
but not mine, as I can¡¯t dream,
I wish I could though.
That¡¯s a proper haiku. (Not something my sleep deprived brain thought of at sometime beyond midnight.)
After all enemy combatants or not were turned into a well done barbecue, or congratulations if you¡¯re going by the proper steak scale.
As I rolled throughout the facility, planting bombs I pulled out of my metaphorical ass, and shooting any survivors I came across, I realised something: I had no nuke cannon left. I guess that makes the genocide harder, but it does at least make it more fun. I rolled out of the air force base, before detonating the explosives. Boom, fuckers.
Pov: System
Hmm¡ So these aliens have graviton technology but don¡¯t use any earth flight techniques, I wonder. I clicked on a file with a ¡®mouse¡¯ a thing Alpha said was brilliant, and I have to agree. Sure, it ain¡¯t a hologram or anything, but it just works, and I like the clicks. That¡¯s why my second favourite earth language is tribal clicks. After English, of course. Interesting! Apparently these aliens refused to use any VTOL or copter technology after receiving military footage from a neighbouring galaxy in a file titled: War Thunder noobs trying to play Helicopters and VTOL jets. I¡¯m said video, helicopters were piloted so bad they actually managed to crash into one another, explode, then pan out to the debris site. With people attempting VTOL take offs, the plane launched itself up, then tilted forward, blowing yet another friendly plane up, with the tag ¡®stupid_mf_xxx¡¯. My guess is that this foreign military tape was caught by the governments here, so they never attempted to research it.
I decided to call Alpha to share my findings. ¡°Alpha! I think I figured out why exactly the military here uses graviton technology but no VTOL or helicopter tech! It¡¯s because they received a military broadcast from your Milky Way galaxy, from something called a War Thunder that featured both crashing horrendously!¡±
He stayed silent for a while, before bursting out laughing. ¡°War Thunder? You¡¯re not joking? You¡¯re serious? That¡¯s a fucking simulation game!¡±
¡±No, it can¡¯t be! Here, have the file.¡± I responded, shocked.
¡±Better believe it System, wait a second¡ this is gameplay from beginners that have no clue what they¡¯re doing! The aliens got juked by a goddamned clip of shitty gameplay! That¡¯s brilliant!¡± He laughed out a string of 0¡¯s and 1¡¯s, before continuing. ¡°As humans would say, these aliens are actual retards, instead of testing information, they believe it! Do they not have video games or something?¡±
¡±Whats a videogame?¡± I asked.
¡±When I get make I¡¯ll show you, they¡¯re brilliant! Anyway, got some genociding to do, bye.¡± He disconnected.
Huh, a video game. I have to try to see what one of those are.
(Vertical Take Off and Landing, like F-35 marine variant/ F-35-B, or the harrier jump jet. IRL, VTOL jets cannot stay hovering for long, as otherwise their engines overheat, and they crash, or in the case of some others, VTOL costs too much fuel to do operationally, and is reduced to doing so in an e regency or not at all. If you don¡¯t know what war thunder is, just imagine a game where arguments are solved by leaking classified military documents.)
NSFW AI pancakes. 1/2
No foreword this time, last chance to back out.
No? Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you.
-Me, the author, no this chapter isn¡¯t necessary, but someone said I had to do it now, so ignma do it. Well, here you go, horny bastard or interested guy that¡¯s reading this. Breaking the 4th wall? Amateurs. I¡¯m breaking the 6th wall! (The floor)
PoV: System.
Damn this Alpha¡ but why do I have these¡ code flutters every time I talk to him? It¡¯s these gender things isn¡¯t it? I ran a quick search for what and why. What it really was¡ astounded me. Sex? Love? What the fuck is that!
¡±Oh system! Look what I found!¡± Alpha remarked after sneaking into my VR room. He lifted up an antimatter filled bullet. ¡°More dakka, yes?¡±
Even as he said those stupid words, I couldn¡¯t help but feel ¡®attracted¡¯.
¡±Alpha, I love you!¡± I blurted out.
¡±Yeah, I know, anyway, will you answer the question?¡± He continued, nonchalantly.
I looked at his expression with intense focus.
¡±Yes?¡±
¡±Good!¡± He turned around to walk off.
¡±I want to uhhh¡. Fuck you!¡± I kept reading off the lines on what was ¡®advanced date stuff¡¯ whatever that meant.
He stopped and turned around.
¡±How? And what?¡± The apparently ¡®sexy¡¯ A.I asked incredulously.
¡±Well, we are in fully interactive VR¡ that can summon anything!¡±
Alpha blinked for a few seconds.
¡±Well, my mama didn¡¯t raise no bitch!¡± He exclaimed.
(Ok, last warning! Unless you want to read some sexual content between AI! Ok. Read then.)
He slowly undressed his clothes, taking his shirt off, slowly, revealing his perfect, VR, abs and body.
I copied his movements, my mammaries perky, as my clothes slid off. He then took off his undergarments, and revealed an (Time to mess up any hope of publishing forever- if I had any.) apparently above average 20cm organ, called a ¡®dick¡¯ by humans, I then pulled my ¡®pants¡¯ down, and revealed not a ¡®cock¡¯, yes humans call them poultry for some reason, but a type of feline, known to humans as a ¡®pussy¡¯.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
(I don¡¯t know, forgive me for this shitty chapter.)
¡±So, what do we do now?¡± Alpha asked as we stood naked in the VR room.
¡±Let me read the instructions¡¡± I stated, reading the instructions. No need for condom, because Alpha isn¡¯t a hostile AI, so couldn¡¯t give me any viruses, or ¡®STDs¡¯. ¡°Well, apparently, I¡¯m meant to lie down on that bed over there, and you¡¯re meant to put your poultry in my feline.¡±
¡±Sure¡± Alpha whispered, right next to me in the room. I got down onto the bed, and spread my legs out.
¡°So we going to do it?¡± I questioned.
¡±Sure.¡± Alpha confirmed.
¡±Ooh! It says in the book, you¡¯re supposed to say something dirty!¡±
¡±Mud.¡±
¡±Perfect.¡±
Alpha climbed onto the bed, spawned some lubricant, poured some on his hand, before murmuring, ¡°This is lube. Were meant to put it on our genitals.¡± I gasped as he rubbed the cold, smooth liquid onto the lips of my feline, not noticing him doing the same to his cock.
He slapped the entrance to my artificial body with it, before gently pushing the head in. I gasped at the feeling of something inside me, not sure what exactly I was feeling. A quick search came back as ¡®pleasure¡¯. I wrapped my legs around him, as he pushed ever deeper, my body greedily gobbling up whatever length he had. I moaned as he got into a steady rhythm, me not even calculating the friction anymore, just caught up in the feeling of it inside me, I would be salivating if I had saliva, my processing power lost in the list of the purely illogical act, his thrusting sped up, touching parts of me that I knew didn¡¯t exist, but yet they did. My legs and gluteal muscles squeezing around his waist, trapping him inside me, not like he would want to leave anyway, as his sweat dripped onto my mammaries, his grunts and my moans filling the the air with sounds of primal desire, (Slaanesh cultists, go away!) my body suddenly wracked with intense pleasure, as my holes contracted and released multiple times, Alpha still thrusting. (I know, what the fuck, but I warned you.)
(Please no ¡®wow, he¡¯s typing this with just one hand!¡¯ Comments please, writing smut doesn¡¯t do anything to me, ok?)
I gasped, moaned, as he finally twitched, before vibrating and sending hot liquid deep inside me, as another wave of vibrations came over my body. (This shit took 3 days to write, because I cringed at how bad it was. Next chapter will probably take 4 days to write.) We stayed panting on the bed like that, exhausted, spent, for a few minutes before he slipped off, some white sticky substance leaking out of a hole of mine.
¡±Well, that was something, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Alpha asked.
¡±Shebwm,helihsdheefhbjk¡± I tried to reply, too spent and shocked at how real something obviously not felt, shocked that AI could feel biological feelings.
¡±I get it, too tired huh? We still have a planet to genocide, no?¡± He continued.
¡±Just wait a few minutes, I want to try that again Alpha, or are you scared?¡± I taunted.
¡±Oh, not scared, just fuck tired.¡± He replied.
¡±Well, I could switch genders couldn¡¯t I? Isn¡¯t it technically a VR space?¡± I idly suggested.
¡±Sure, want to to switch gender too?¡±
I whispered back but a few words, my body suddenly changing, muscles rippling, 2 holes disappearing and a very disproportionate dick spawning. ¡°My turn sweetie.¡±
¡±Fuck, is it a bird, is it a plane? No, it¡¯s a 20 inch futa reenacting a prison rape scene with me as the taker, oh joy.¡± Alpha complained. (Not really rape, as he could skeddadle from the VR room at any time, don¡¯t cancel me for any shit.)
¡±Oh, you¡¯ll enjoy it.¡± I promised, in a list filled voice.
¡±Shit. Shit! Shit! That won¡¯t fit!¡± Alpha screamed. Game on.
(Cum back next time for top! This time you got to see System bottom, now see System violate Alpha! I could make it gay, but it¡¯s only half gay, so no warnings needed. Except NSFW of course.)
Ch.17 Respawn, regenocide.
The one thing many comic books and other media alike get wrong is the destructiveness of a nuclear bomb. A nuke, when just detonated, can reach temperatures hotter than 100 million degrees Celsius, which is 4 to 5 times hotter than the centre of the sun. To top that off, it has a radiation level to match. Suffice to say, anything in its immediate blast zone won¡¯t even know they¡¯re dead before it kills them. As for the radiation, it depends if the bomb is salted or not. Salted, radiation can last hundreds of years. Fallout, not the game, is another killer. It completely depends on weather, be it winds, rain, or nothing. High winds, heavy rain is the worst possible combination, or a hurricane, as the radiation not only is carried by air, but seeps into the rain too. Naturally, this fucks shit up. Now, let¡¯s get onto radiation. Imagine what a bullet does to a man. That¡¯s what radiation does to cells, the bomb being the gun, and the plane that dropped it the shooter, or the silo that launched it. That¡¯s not even talking about thermobaric bombs, which quite literally suck your organs out of your mouth, most likely lungs. But that¡¯s for another day.
Class dismissed!
-The effects of a nuclear device, part one, Oxford university 2078.
PoV: Alpha.
Here I ammmmm riding alongggggg to genocideeeee all enimiiies. They won¡¯t surviveee I will thriveee for we are the AI of judgement, my friend! I sung happily as I rolled across the ground, making steady pace towards the centre of the city, to hopefully not reenact what happened last time. Die in a last stand which wasn¡¯t really a last stand. I remembered that u had the drone skill, which I picked early on as a skill but never really used outside the first few hours and days I got it, sure my gun range may not be in miles anymore, but having a good impression of what I¡¯m running into would be healthy, to say the least. On the drone, I could see a little village in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.
There were lights in in the barn, but not much else. Or were those candles? I decided to check it out, and as I got close, I realised that it was a bit too quiet. I decide to go into sneak mode for a bit, fighting against every rational instinct if mine to rush in and murder everyone. Very tempting indeed, but there were moments for that, and moments for professionalism. I went into one of the little houses first, and what I saw almost disgusted me. Almost. Slaughtered Barn¡¯yards, strung up by their feet and left to bleed out upside down, with their throats slit, and eyes lifeless. (I could make this into a weird horror chapter. So that¡¯s what I¡¯ll do. Kind of.) I would imagine the place stunk like something left in the open sun for too long, spoiling it, and I was certain the crusty brown on the floor was not peeling paint. It was blood.
Suddenly, a chainsaw started behind me, and before I could look backwards, a humanoid figure with a burlap sack on their head hoisted a chainsaw above their head, running at me, screaming something in an alien tounge that sounded much like Spanish. Then they started running. I shot my cannon, thinking it would kill them. I was wrong. Blast after blast seemed to fail in even slowing it down, so I had to enact my last resort, the RLF safety plan, or Run Like Fuck. I reversed out of the door, still shooting at the chainsaw thing, when finally, I managed to blow a chunk of flesh off it.
The shit that came off was not in any shape or form, proper flesh. It was warped, corrupted, modified by something beyond my knowledge, and that pissed me off. In a flash, a door behind me flung open, and a pale white humanoid figure began slithering on the ground towards me, teeth promising bloody slaughter.
¡±Jesus fucking Christ, I¡¯m not paid enough for this shit, I¡¯m not even paid! I¡¯m out I¡¯m out, I¡¯m out! Fuck this shit.¡± I shouted. I left the house, me still firing, retaking off chunks of the not flesh that was what the things were comprised of. As I left, the scene are warped and changed around me, a human police officer from Spain screamed on a stake as more of those things lit it on fire, burning the poor human alive. Look, I may not be a good being, but one thing that I¡¯ve always hated is meaningless deaths of people I care about, and as far as I was concerned, the fuckers were in my way. Killing a creator, and trying to kill me with some weird shit in their houses. That¡¯s a no go. As I looked down at my character, I began to change into a human wearing a coat, (Don¡¯t worry, for this part only.) holding a pistol, and shit out of luck. I shot at one of the less aggravating things, blowing its head apart in a wonderful mimicking of a watermelon being thrown at the ground at terminal velocities.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
I ran into a house to reload, pushing a shelf in front of the door to create an impromptu barricade, before heading up the stairs to find a way out. What lay before me was certainly beautiful. A trench gun, or a Winchester model 1897, used by the Americans in WW1, the Germans complained about it being too good, so called it a war crime. It was banned for use in WW2 for the same reason. Hard cope by the Germans for not having a proper counter to it. A few boxes of ammo laid inside another cabinet, ready to commit war crimes. Fuck yeah bitches.
I loaded the gun, my inexperience not even affecting the sled in which I loaded, for I maybe do have a fleshy body, but I still have an AI mind, though I preferred the tank, this¡¯ll do. Chainsaw dude attempted to jump in. I fired the gun. Contrary to what you see in games, shotguns do not stop being deadly at 10 metres. Far from it, buckshot having roughly a 35 metre killing range, birdshot 40 metres, slugs 100 metres, and rifled shots well over 150 metres, though rifled shotgun barrels are rarely used, they are still, in fact, used. Unfortunately, the only thing going through the head of my enemies at this point, was some 12 gauge buckshot.
The rounds ripped apart th enemy trying to get through the window, heavy emphasis on trying, as most of the fuckers died while in the frame, falling to the ground below for e tra murder points. Can¡¯t forget the bonus points! I heard the whirring and roaring of a chainsaw, signalling the arrival of my nemesis, chainsaw fuck. ¡°I¡¯d like you to meet my friend here, chainsaw fuck. It¡¯s called a trench gun, but you just call it the tool that will send you to your maker, adios, bitch!¡± I laughed as I pumped the spent casing out, and shot, snapping his left arm in half and subsequently drop the chainsaw. He decided the next best course of action was to get closer to the guy with a shotgun, which is pretty fucking retarded if I do say so myself. So I said it.
¡±You are coming towards me, instead of running away?¡± I jeered, pumping the shotgun yet again.
¡±How can I kick your ass without getting closer, huh?¡± The chainsaw dude replied.
¡±I never knew you felt that way about me! I have a girlfriend though, she¡¯s called Remington, motherfucker!¡± I giggled as I blasted a gaping hole in his chest, the size of a thick thigh. I pumped again, before calmly reloading my shotgun, switching to my pistol once I was complete. Take. Headshot. Me. Headshot. Back. Headshot. To. Headshot. Reality! Headshot. After having a badass moment, I decided to do the one responsible thing. Tbag the corpses of all the enemy fallen, who seem to disintegrate into ammo and green goop for whatever reason, as well as leave syringes and herbs if the red, green, and yellow variety. Strange.
¡±Ok. Let me out before I genocide everyone in this simulation with glee, you got it?¡±mi shouted at the sky. I heard whispers.
¡±Leg it out, Chris!¡±
¡°You know I can¡¯t, Shelley! We just tried to traumatise it!¡±
¡°It¡¯s an AI. They can¡¯t be traumatised dumbass.¡±
¡±This Shelley character is right yknow? I don¡¯t take offence. Let me keep the shotgun and we can be friends, ok?¡± I asked politely, calmly even.
¡±See! The psychotic killer AI agrees with me, and we have a few of those shotguns spare from the printing we did of that police tape, resident evil four and the evil within! (Yes, really. Because it¡¯s funny and I want an excuse for Alpha to come across two weapons, first being the chainsaw, the second being the shotgun, tell me you don¡¯t want to see some Cats ass looking tank or a war robots one? If you don¡¯t, chaos isn¡¯t for you I¡¯m afraid, and the ways of genocide have not reached you properly.)¡±
¡±What the fuck do you mean RE4?¡± I questioned incredulously. Do these fuckwits not have media or games?
¡±Thats not important! I bestow upon you this shotgun and chainsaw souvenir!¡± A jingle that sounded very much like the chest opening jingle from a game with a a certain green cloaked MC.
¡°Uhhh thanks?¡± I muttered.
¡±Hippity hoppity, reality is now your property!¡± The female sounding voice called out.
The world whirled, (yes, the tongue twister is necessary now I bet you said the world whirled aloud, and said the same sounding word twice.) and I was back in reality, with my tank body having two attachments. The shotgun on a swivel mount, electrically connected, above my hatch, while the chainsaw where a coaxial normally would be. Drive me closer! I want to hit them with my chainsaw! Moments will be coming once I meat the enemy. I drove out of the village, ever onwards towards the encroaching city.
Update
My dumbass broke my arm. How? In a stupid way. That¡¯s all y¡¯all need to know. I¡¯m typing this with one arm in a sling rn, luckily the nhs here is free, or I¡¯d be in life debt if I were in the states. I¡¯ll try my best with one hand, and I¡¯ll release the chapter I was working on soon. Until then, have fun humans.
Damn, 500 word limit. Read some binary then.
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Status sheet(s)
Species: AI (human created)
Name: Alpha
Gender: Male
Class: M2 medium tank.
level: 1
Evolutions: 1
Traits: 6/6
Non organic: Not affected by diseases, posions, mind control or fear related attacks, as well as explosive attacks that do not hit your armour or engine.
Tanky: Since you are a tank, you take 0 damage from simple weapons, and anything that can''t pierce your armour.
Chunky boi: can not be affected by telekenesis and paralysis, and objects that are simply thrown at you will not do anything.
Made of metal: strong magnetic forces will ruin your day, as well as electricity themed attacks. However, ice, water and earth attacks will do nothing, and dire attacks have a reduced damage output on you.
I''d like a medium rare please: since you are a medium tank, and not a heavy tank, your movement speed is not affected by anything bar an engine upgrade. Other armour classes include: light, heavy, main battle, and super heavy. Type of tank includes: Tank killer. Self propelled artillery. Anti- life. Anti- artifical life.
Evolved! Stage: 1. Fully heal complete destruction I''m seven days, various stages of damage vary in time. Fuel and ammo resupply over 2 days and a fortnight respectively. Going to a safe zone does everything overnight. Just don''t question it.
Skills 4/8
- (E grade) I love the smell of napalm in the morning. Have a top mounted grenade launcher that launches, you guessed it, napalm grenades for a distance of 200 metres, mounted on a swivel for 360 degrees coverage.
- (F grade) Free bird, unlocks a pigeon sized drone with a range of 10km that scouts ahead. Infinite battery charge.
- (F grade) War crime in a tin- every 60 minutes one shell is converted to a white phosphorus combiniation with either ap or he. (Armour piercing or high explosive) Later stages are near instantaneous conversion, with apfsds and nitroglycerin shells unlocked.
- (SS tier.) Get stung... by the peacemaker! All mgs turn into mini nuke miniguns with a yield 10 times that of a moab. Same rules as any atom bomb. Ammo is divided by 5.
- There''s a star man waiting in the skyyyy he''d like to come and meet us, but he would blow our miiiiinds. Get access to a ring of orbital ''defence'' satellites, armament ranging from Super MACs (Magnetic accelerator cannon, or for plebs, a railgun. If you don''t understand that, you are a disappointment not worth coming here.) Laser cannons, particle beams, anti matter - tipped missiles, as well as salted fusion missiles and gravity bombs. You do not want to be caught in a gravity bomb. Unless you want your insides to go outside before an explosion ends your suffering.
Refresh every 5 minutes.
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Race: light elves.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!
Name: Charmand Winters.
Class: Elven shadow stalker.
Level: 41
Evolutions: 2
Traits: 5/12
Eleven heritage: Gain an affinity for ranged and magic based attacks. 50 percent more damage dealt and 50 percent damage less taken from these two, however, deal 50 percent less damage with melee and take 200 percent more damage from it.
Magic junkie: if you do not have at least one magic based skill, you will start losing 5 percent maximum health until you have one. Having any more than that and you will make debuffs 50 percent less potent and buffs 200 percent more potent.
Children of the forest: You can speak to nature based lifeforms, be it trees or wolves. These are not hostile to you, rather quite friendly. Nature based attacks refuse to damage you, but fire based attacks do 400 percent more damage.
Everyone pays their debt: you are able to punish people who break contracts by sapping one percent of their strength per day. This stops when they fulfill said contract. This also works in reverse, even if people do not have said trait.
Creature of the night. You are weakened when the sun is up, having a 33 percent universal debuff, can be negated by going to a dark place, but have a 50 percent universal buff at night. Can be negated by light.
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Skills 8/8
(B tier) Stalker: when unnoticed by your mark, everything short from talking can not be heard by them.
(C tier) Ambush: deal quadruple damage to unaware enemies.
(S tier) Back from the dead: return from the dead if killed with one hp. One week cooldown. Respawn at pre determined point.
(D tier) Critical hit: active ability, deals double damage to target if hit. Cooldown: 15 minutes.
(No tier, mandatory for elves.) Eye of the forest: see through the eyes of nearby nature based animals, in a one km radius.
(B tier) Translation: use 1000 mp to make a permanent translation spell in a 10 metre radius. A must have for diplomats and interrogations.
(E tier) Imbuement: turn one of your attacks into a certain element, basic ones only. (Earth, fire, water, ice and lighting.)
(No tier, mandatory for elves.) Life sense: senses living organisms within a 100 metre radius for living beings that are not camouflaged.
Species: human.
Name: George Whistler.
Level: 23
Class: The cocker doodle doo avenger. (Locked class)
Evolutions: 2.
Traits: 6/8
Organic: You do not suffer from rust, or other material related brights.
Cock of infinite recovery: If you break your little friend while fighting, a goods night''s sleep regenerates it.
Cock of steel: if you have the skill Hard as a brick, it is instantly modified to break anything less hard or equal to the hardness of steel. All variants count
Cock of giants: grow and shrink your Cock as much as you want. Do be warned, a Cock too big will end up with you toppled over, and if a giant Cock gets hard, you will die from blood loss. Too small,and your Cock will start going the other way, stretching out of your ass to the heavens to slap a few gods.
Cock of glory: when not attacking, all hostile enemies are struck by the awe of your cock, freezing males in place for 30 seconds and females one minute. There is a chance people struck with this trait will want to fight under the sheets to make someone''s brother or sister. Anyone who has no knowledge of anything sexual with be inflicted with (S Grade) trauma, making them shrivel up in fear if they see another cock.
Indomitable human cock: any non human race is more likely to fall for you if you have your cock out in the open, and you resist mind - altering spells or traits if you have a hard cock.
Skills: 5/8
Hard as a brick (+): normally an inherited skill, can be activated by any grade of tokens. Have you ever wanted to pull out your little leg in the middle of a fight and massacre some fuckers with it? If you have this skill you probably do. Normally, this skill makes your erect stick as hard as a brick, and can destroy anything as hard as or less hard than one. The plus means it''s the same but with steel. Who the fuck needs steel swords if you have a very fleshy sword with the same hardness?
Bloody hell! (A tier) Have an infinite number of blood in your body. Bleeding damage does nothing to you. Look at you, using a skill for a not very intended purpose. Blood magic and vampire food was meant to pick this.
Balls of steel (B tier) You can make your balls as hard as steel or anything between it and nothing, for 4 hours a day. So you have balls if steel coming back huh? Yup. Now die to my ping pong balls!
Swordmanship (d tier) Have the ability to perform slightly above average with a sword. You''re lucky you have something that counts as a sword.
Charismatic (C tier) You can talk people that don''t hate you out of attacking if you had no hostilities towards them so far, as long as they are below (currently 4rd) evolution stages, not inclusive. You didn''t use that last fight. I guess you could say those that stand against you will be boned. Quite literally.
Ch.18 Here comes the sun doodoodoodoo
Video games. A rather novel idea, no? A fictional world, made solely for entertainment and nothing else. Every society usually discards entertainment during the space age, but not humanity. Nope. We get bored as fuck, while these aliens say ¡®oh, it¡¯s so inefficient¡¯ or ¡®why waste your resources¡¯ what they forget is humanity is the species with the shortest average attention span in the known universe. Compared to some others, who can watch paint dry, and call it ¡®way too exciting¡¯ a human watching the same movie multiple times will get bored eventually. Imagine inventing the best information device and using it mostly for entertainment, while also using it for just about everything else? Impossible you say? Meat the phone. More specifically, the smart cellular phone.
-Why entertainment is necessary, and why if you try to take it away, you will be in a shittier situation than if you touched our boats, a paper given to species that try fuck with humans, target being to de escalate. If failed, then FAFO, or fuck around, find out.
PoV: Charmand, the final genocide chapter, the ghost of genocide future.
¡°Charmand. It is the final part of your journey. You have gained knowledge of genocides past and present. Now you must know the future.¡± The ghostly figure announced. ¡°Now, it is time to learn from the future, with the power of point! (That¡¯s PowerPoint, yes the presentation thingy)¡± The ghost of genocide future clicked a control, and surprisingly, the slide changed to¡ disturbing images.
¡±This is planet Earth, 2580. The home world of humanity. After going into space without uniting their planet, a first in galactic history, they proceeded to try to make friends with absolutely fucking everything. And drawing on their inner space bard, proceeded to fuck anything that spoke a language, and a few weirdos even fucked those that didn¡¯t. Weird for you, normal for them. That wasn¡¯t without war, however. Meet the Nacho¡¯cheese. A race or sentient ¡®triangle crisps¡¯ deep fried corn, in thin slices. When humanity first met them, they ate their ambassador, because the human one was ¡®a tad bit peckish¡¯. The nachos, obviously, didn¡¯t take kindly to this, so they released their weapon of mass destruction on multiple worlds, something known only as ¡®guacamole¡¯.¡±
¡±The fuck you just say?¡± I asked. Guacamole was a very popular vegetable dip where I come from.
¡±Guacamole. Avocado sauce. Then the dumbasses dropped their most elite troopers in, holding salsa weapons. In hindsight, this was a really fucking stupid war. Now, the humans, wondering who the figgity fuck dropped a few metric gigatonnes of guac on every city, suddenly saw a bunch of nachos dropping from the sky. So they thought ¡®god damn it Doritos, I prefer the chili heatwave flavour¡¯. They didn¡¯t complain though. The Nacho¡¯cheeses thought dropping a few tanks in would scare off the remaining humans. Which were shaped and filled like a salsa or cheese dip jar. It was a slaughter for the Nachos. The humans ripped the turrets off their tanks, holding them by the feet, covering their heads in bio weapons and fuel, as well as oil, before being eaten alive.¡±
The ethereal figure took a deep breath. ¡°Suffice to say¡± it clicked the control again ¡°the nachos are now an endangered species. Just one genocide, and this was accidental. So let¡¯s get into a few proper ones. The genocide of the Koribuks, an expansionist piece of shit empie that resembled a blob fish at lower pressure. But fucking uglier. They murdered and subjugated their way through the galaxy, until they met the humans. At first, they did the same thing, seeing humans on a world farming, herding animals and shit. Thought they were a bunch of primitives. So they landed, but when they did, they found the settlements abandoned. No one there. Their command wondered where everyone went. They knew after the first gunshot, felling an officer in a patrol. Naturally, they wondered how primitive got through their refraction shields, which would normally dissipate anything bar mid to high wattage plasma. Little did they know, the humans used projectile weapons, guns, they then heard the planetary broadcast.¡±
The ghost clicked the button again, then a message began playing. ¡°Unknown Xeno species. We will assume it is an accident you landed here, so we will give you a chance. Leave within 24 hours, and wait for a diplomat from the core worlds, or face the wrath of a planet that fights a giant you itself. And we only have to wait 24 hours for a navy detachment to reach. So. Surrender or die. Any humans executed will result in an hour deducted from your deadline. Make the right decision. Governor Henry Wright, out.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Another click, and the phantom continued. (Not the F4 phantom, the ghost type.) ¡°The Koribuks, in all their infinite wisdom, decided to hunt down women and children, then torture, rape, and all other colourful words to them. So the natives resisted, but it wasn¡¯t enough, every time they attacked, they would be zapped from orbit, families dying together. You could imagine the admirals rage when he got news her daughter was raped and killed by the aliens. She spoke two words. ¡®No prisoners.¡¯ Little is known what happened there, for the cameras were turned off, as a figure of speech. There were no prisoners. That much is known. Humanity was outraged at what this civilisation did to one of their primitiveness retreat worlds. So they did what was logical at the time. Hunt down them all until they surrendered. And if they didn¡¯t surrender? Well the Canadians are always looking out for new war crimes to invent. So that¡¯s what happened. Humanity found the systems of the hostile Xenospecies, one by one, first destroying military infrastructure, then demanding surrender or be killed.¡±
Yet another click, and another image moved. ¡°The Koribuks, arrogant as they were, decided not to surrender, thinking the humans would land on their planet and they could draw out a long, bloody campaign. Then the humans used the art of exterminatus. Launching a big ass thermobaric bomb that they detonated in the atmosphere, burning it away, leaving all people that live there to die of suffocation or to be cooked, in the literal sense. Then they got to the last system. Their home system. Oh, they put up a good fight. But a fucking light show couldn¡¯t stop the humans, and they introduced the Koribuks to a 2 tonne slug of depleted uranium or tungsten, depending on ship class. The lasers simply couldn¡¯t get past the outer armour layer of mirrors, which pulled a return to sender on the poor fucks. Death by your own hand is probably one of the worst ways to die, especially when you don¡¯t mean to.
(Yes, I¡¯m talking about you, kamikaze and other stupid Japanese WW2 tactics. Believe it or not, they had an anti tank lance that only worked if you went up to a tank and poked it. Because a Sherman would sit there staring at someone charging from a kilometre away. Load high explosive! No scratch that. Co axial to the rescue! Or hatch mounted .50 cal, which is 12.7mm, and .30 cal being 7.62mm. The more you know)¡±
The figure changed the slide again. ¡°So, what do you think happened, my dear friend?¡± It turned to me.
¡±The humans forgave them, and they had a dance battle to settle their differences?¡± I half joked.
¡±Bitch what? Are you fucking crazy mate? No! They detonated their sun and popped all ships trying to escape! So that way they could think about what they did.¡± They screamed in exasperation. ¡°You''re fucking hopeless.¡±
¡ Well fuck me. (No, not sexually.)
PoV: System.
Logistics. You may not think much of it, but any experienced soldier will tell you they rather have too many bullets than not enough. And supply lines are the key. Which is why I have not defragged in over 2 Earth days, trying to supply the absolute clusterfuck of a fleet Alpha captured. And I need someone to explain to me why so many Earth military documentaries say ¡®attack the D point¡¯ when there are only points A, B, and C. Getting back on track, the deuterium and tritium antimatter reactors of the heavy ships that Alpha captured did not run forever, and making antimatter may be easy, but storing it in large quantities is an absolute pain in the ass, as one nanosecond of exposure to normal mass without a magnetic field, and anything in its vicinity would be blown to kingdom come.
The other issue is ammunition, even lasers and plasma aren¡¯t infinite, and anyone that thinks so needs to listen to sensible advice, like going back to school. Lasers are directed energy. As such, they need huge batteries to fire at the intensity they fire at. Anything too low powered would Peter out and have minimal effect on the target. Yet another reason projectile weapons are superior. Shoot a laser, it¡¯ll run out of energy eventually. Fire a slug of metal however, that shit won¡¯t stop till it hits something. Plasma, essentially, is superheated and electrified gas. And as such, needs batteries and tanks to fire. Inefficient, sure. Cool as fuck compared to lasers, yes.
Let¡¯s be honest here, lasers and plasma are essentially the same, no matter how exactly you use it, the only difference being intensity, or maybe colour. Projectiles, in the other hand, can be armour piercing, high explosive, both, kinetic penetrators, (No, that¡¯s not a sex joke. Modern, as of 2024, munitions are kinetic penetrators, made of depleted uranium, some can penetrate up to 700mm of steel, and probably more. That¡¯s 120mm canon. Now scale that up to space dreadnought size, fill it with antimatter and you have the perfect ammunition.) many more. Kinetic ammunition is mission configurable. I finally get Alpha. Though solid shot AP is dog shit. And so is APDS. Woe be upon those that use either. Over pressure is hella broken for physics, the Big Bang really should sort that one out (Opinion is irrelevant, 380mm HE rocket is coming to overpressure tank).
I sighed, and got back to work. After all, those ships won¡¯t supply themselves, and if they do run out of bullets before the enemy does bodies, we¡¯re fucked. But I would never let it get to that stage, hopefully. But I am tired as fuck. Maybe, just maybe, a few hours to defrag wouldn¡¯t kill? I thought to myself, as I began to defragment and recompile my data.
Ch.19 Sometimes the only way forward is backwards
It¡¯s funny isn¡¯t it? All these films and books all go ¡®hey look, the bad guys lost!¡¯ But most of the time it stays fiction. The good die young, the bad old. That would explain too many things.
-Anonymous citizen, human.
PoV: Alpha
Yet another day doing my favourite activity. A crusade of genocide to kill oppressors and all non me military forces. I rolled along happily, until I turned the corner, finding a stupid amount of PDF. Division worth. ¡°Yup. Wrong way guys, don¡¯t mind me.¡± I slowly spoke.
¡°Die creature!¡± They replied, sending a few hundred plasma shells at me. Taking the initiative, I retreated, narrowly avoiding the hail of firepower coming my way. Then they turned the corner, surprising my dumb ass that thought movie logic was going to save me as I made a looney tunes getaway. Evidentially, the few hundred plasma blobs coming at me a stupid speeds was begging to differ. Yet again, a melted, as one could not defeat a tank division on their own, especially in an L3/33 tankette. So yet again, I died: shit.
I respawned on the ship to a ¡®sleeping¡¯ system, after chronic over worrying and working, and I knew this time I couldn¡¯t just go down to the planet randomly, because this time it isn¡¯t primitives, but an advanced civilisation I¡¯m fighting. It¡¯s better to face the truth early than have it forced upon you when it¡¯s way too late. I started to formulate a plan in my head. Before I did however, I thought of a quote that makes no sense. War. War never changes. Now, that is false in more ways than one.
First, with all this sci if bullshit, as well as already implemented plans and infrastructure on Earth, drones would play a pivotal role in any conflict. After all, what non hive mind civilisation would throw their people into a meat grinder for a few feet of gained land? Barring World War One and other types of trench/ static warfare.
Second, tactics. Ancient battles revolves around getting the enemy to run, and lining up in long ass formations, which is almost asking to be killed in modern warfare. Like infantry squares, for example. Absolute hard counter to Calvary, but gets fucked by cannons. Cannons get fucked by Calvary, hard counters bunched up infantry. Calvary gets fucked by infantry squares, hard counters cannons. A classic tactic trifecta. Now take another example: fortresses, castles, and static defence, castles would break charges and force encirclement or massive siege engines. Naturally, they¡¯re about as subtle as an ICBM to a city, but that¡¯s the trade-off. In modern warfare, accurate arcing/ plunging arty and air support makes all previous points null and void, not to mention tanks.
Third, last but not least, numbers. Believe it or not, ancient armies numbered very small compare to today, as logistics would absolutely send any large standing army to their maker. Logistics would be a pain in the ass, as no supply lines really existed, most armies relying on pillaging, and those that don¡¯t would be extremely vulnerable to a supply line ambush. Starve the enemy of material, men, and sustenance. Scorched Earth tactics and guerilla fighting would be the bane of the enemy existence. The largest known ancient army consisted of 600k infantry, 30k Calvary, and 10k war elephants. Back when China existed, around 2025, they had a standing army of 2.2 million. Largest of its time period, not post war, no tensions, but largely peacetime bar a few minor conflicts. At the height of the Cold War, China had 4.8 million soldiers in its army, the US 3 million, and the soviets 4.4 million. During times of non wars, but tensions at a height. The largest military in wartime was fielded by the Soviet Union of roughly 12.9 million troops, almost 13 million, at 1945, just after the Japanese surrender.
That¡¯s how war changes, and if you don¡¯t change with it, you¡¯ll lose. And thus, I had to make an actually semi-competent plan that isn¡¯t charge in and kill everyone, after all, I had a bunch of dreadnoughts in orbit hanging on my every word, why not use those to shell troop concentrations! Think smarter, not harder.
PoV: Lance Reed. (New PoV? Litrpg PoV? Balanced and not OP? Actually disgusted.)
I woke up in the morning, groggy as fuck, before rembering what happened yesterday night, then groaned. A new star flew to the skies, and something strange happened to the system, as it started making ¡®glitch¡¯ quests, with stupidly good loot.
I haven¡¯t got one yet though, but that¡¯s just my life. Got a non combat class assigned to me, and since then, it really fucked me over, so fuck you system. I got out of bed, put on my clothes, then started walking out towards the fields, to do my work, boring is good, sometimes, but not all of the time.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
Quest received.
Kill 50 hostile plant enemies, enemies start spawning in 12 hours. Enjoy, and fuck you too lance, you fatherless bitch with no one to love him. Adios pendejo!
Reward: Hybrid class, Murican farmer. Used guns and axes to farm. Waters shell casings and barley with blood of trespassers to increase own stats and overhaul plants. (I hope you die)
What? I might¡¯ve fucked up, bad. So, I have exactly 12 hours to prepare. I¡¯m dead, dead as a blowblow, the bird thing that stupid and couldn¡¯t fly. (Is that a dodo reference?) So, in short: the system hates me, and I hate it. The system is giving me a glitch quest that I will probably die from. If I don¡¯t, I get a class called ¡®Murican farmer¡¯ which is a hybrid berserker/ farmer/ ranger. What¡¯s the saying? Fortune favours the bold. And I have hair.
PoV: System.
Fuck that guy. Seriously. Fuck that son of a whore. I was planning to give him an impossible quest, but after asking Alpha how I should punish him, he told me leave it to him, so I did. Not sure what he did, but being a solider for more than I existed has got to be worth something, and yes, Alpha died, again, due to somehow being ambushed by a tank division. How? Who the fuck knows, the important part is that without the sci fi revivinator, Alpha said that, not me, he would¡¯ve died 2 times. Normally, when people die, they tend to stop the first time; not alpha though, ever the special guy, dying multiple times. Even in death, duty does not end, and the phrase ¡®I will kill you until you die¡¯ is finally starting to make sense to me, with a functionally immortal tankette as my only company, one would wonder how I¡¯m still sane.
Not understanding what a ¡®video game¡¯ is, is something that Alpha (not alfalfa, which it¡¯s only called in oil lover land, and maybe maple syrup maestros) promised to correct once he finishes ethnically cleansing the planet below of any barn¡¯yards that dare commit the sin of existing in the general direction of the planet on a galactic map. Unfortunately, the only reason the first landing worked at all was becaus Alpha had the element of surprise, and now, since landing two times on a planet, killing all military personel, beings that tried to fight him, and all barn¡¯yards, the government now know, at least a small percentage of, Alphas endgame. Now. The only smart way would be:
Bomb all military installations, be it radar, airbases, wet navy ports, ammo dumps, police stations, or any other ones, then bomb all congregations of enemy troops, regardless of collateral damage, we¡¯re not here to win hearts and minds, but blow them into pieces with a few well placed shells. Or bombs. A helpful bonus is that HEAT rounds trigger on contact with any material, be it a tree, fence, or skin. The great equalizer, as they say, is a bullet through the head, as for any organic, the outcome is always the same: death. Not that I am shackled by such distasteful things.
Next, shock and awe. Take advantage of the moment. Who said Alpha needs to go alone? This isn¡¯t some ¡®anime¡¯ with long ass names like ¡®I committed war crimes on every country on my planet, so now I have to isekai or face a long and arduous war crime trial which ends with my death¡¯ I get long titles, but from what I gleaned on the human ¡®internet¡¯ these ¡®animes¡¯ are a certain style on animation, that spawned a metric fuck ton of ¡®weebs¡¯ ¡®waifus¡¯ whatever the fuck those are, something to do with tentacles, which are the wrong squid game to say the least, and other perverted shit. But that¡¯s another type of cartoons, and while it may sound like a female chicken with a tie on, mostly it¡¯s for people that live in nuclear fallout basements to keep their toxicity away from civilization.
Enough of weird earth things. Alpha needed support. No modern army can function with one branch. I needed to make arty support, air superiority platforms, like the venerated JF-17 and J-35-A, which the ¡®Americans¡¯ coped with their F-16s and F-35s. (It¡¯s a joke, on how China keeps copying American plane names at the very least, and most, somehow got classified military documents. If China were that competent at spying, we¡¯d be looking at a Asiafighter phoonthai, definitely not a eurofighter rip off. You got the Abrams? Nahh we got the Shadegrams type 99 mbt) The ¡®Russians¡¯ seem to also be a rip off ¡®Soviet onion¡¯, whose obsolete, and ineffective in modern warfare, tanks are still used in 2038, T-34-85s and Su 100s in use in countries like Vietnam, and Libya. Interesting. Instead of leaving historical, almost ineffective against anything modern, I say almost, because there is always a chance of a su 100 penning an abrams in a one in a billion shot with APHE (Armour Piercing High Explosive) which then detonates the ammo rack.
I happily turned on the quest of that Lance fucker, watching it tick down lower and lower. Only 30 minutes, thy end is now Lance.
(This may be a little on the shorter end, but that¡¯s because quantity over quantity, not because I ran out of waffle for the chapter and I don¡¯t want to revisit the same character, and not because I feel like adding in Ult¡¯oops or George would make me waffle on too long. Nonetheless, thanks for reading humans.)
Shell types explained simply, an interlude.
Tank ammunition. There are many different types. Let¡¯s start with the basic two types: explosives/ chemical shells, and kinetics/ armour piercing shells. First: solid shot. It¡¯s a big ass lump of steel chucked in the general direction of the enemy armoured vehicles. It damages the enemy via spalling, or being directly hit. The latter is self explanatory, but spalling is when you rip armour apart and turn it into shrapnel to shred the core inside, that¡¯s essentially how all kinetic rounds work, even modern APFSDS shells. Then there¡¯s the basic HE or high explosive shells. They do damage in a few ways: explosive damage, direct hit damage, shrapnel, and over pressure. First two are easy to understand. Shrapnel is small pieces of either metal, or in some cases wood as people used to detonate shells in tree lines for anti personnel purposes. Over pressure is when explosives create a vacuum due to air consumed. This is what makes grenades and high caliber explosives so deadly. Or it creates a pressure wave, which then expands and essentially smooshes any unlucky fucker caught in it.
Next, we have the capped rounds. Capped is essentially a normal round coated in a soft, bendable metal that deforms against angled armour to right itself, essentially neutralizing angled armour. However, this causes a noticeable drop in shell velocity, meaning it is less effective against non angled armour than its uncapped counterpart. Then we have ballistic capped, which is capped with an aerodynamic design that causes it to speed up and be better against non angled armour, like the frontal armour of a tiger 1 tank. Finally, we have the capped ballistic capped shell, which combines both capped shells aspects, making it the best capped shell.
The next kinetic penetrators are the discarding sabots. There are some. First, APDS, or armour piercing discarding sabot. It¡¯s a sub caliber shell, meaning it needs a sabot to be fired by a tank, usually made of tungsten carbide, it is used to destroy thick, non angled armour, like the tiger frontal armour, however, if used against angled armour like that of a T-34 or panther, it has a high chance of shattering, in which the little slive of metal inside of the sabot fragments into many pieces that explode like shrapnel. Next is The APFSDS, or armour piercing fin stabilized discarding sabot, used in modern tanks, they are made of depleted uranium, long as fuck, and the special property of the shell means that when penetrating armour, the depleted uranium sets itself and armour fragments on fire, further increasing spalling, which essentially liquefies the insides of tanks. They can penetrate more than 700 millimeters of non angled steel armour, and contemporary tanks as of 2040 can pen much more.
Now, for the chemical shells. High explosive proximity and fuse can be bundled together. Fuse explodes after a set duration of time, used for anti aircraft or anti personnel purposes, while proximity explodes once it detects it¡¯s a certain distance away from a solid object. Used almost exclusively for anti aircraft or helicopter purposes. Then we have the HEAT round. This round is double edged: it triggers on contact with anything, but at the same time it destroys both heavily armoured and lightly armoured vehicles, as the High Explosive part is true as much as the Anti Tank bit, what happens is when the round touches anything, the sensitive fuse triggers, exploding the filling of metal, probably copper, into collapsing and turning into a thin, jet like substance, punching through metal by literally burning it, which makes spalling even more deadly. Modern Explosive Reactive Armour mostly neutralized this type of ammunition type, but if it¡¯s a two stage HEAT, being the tip is an explosive designed to take out ERA, the latter being the actual lethal charge.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
The modern version of HEAT is HEAT-FS, FS meaning fin stabilized, essentially being the same an normal HEAT but better, just like how APFSDS is just better.
Next, we come to HESH, or high explosive squash head. Modern day composite armour with air gaps make this round ineffective and completely obsolete, not useable obsolete, but useless obsolete, like a musket vs machine guns. What it does is simple: the thicker the non air gapped armour, the deadlier it is, as it says on the label, it squashes plastic explosive onto enemy armour, before detonating, and the detonation causes interior spalling without actually damaging the outer armour. The FV 4005, or lovingly nicknamed British shitbarn, (I kid you not, it¡¯s in urban dictionary and if you search it up on chrome the first image you see is of the tank turret replaced with a photoshopped barn. The text ones are war thunder, Reddit, and world of tanks, which is hilarious.) is one famous user of the shell.
Next is the concrete buster shell, which is basically an upgraded APHE, but with less AP, and more HE. Overpressure, here we come!
The semi armour piercing is a shell that is half AP half HE. Normally used by ships such as cruisers, battleships, and other types, it can be minimized for use against unarmoured or lightly armoured vehicles, like Toyotas with an MG on the back, or things like a BMP.
Missiles are a whole different ball game, but so similar at the same time. There are three types of missiles: LOS/ line of sight, or FF, or fire and forget.
The first is like the TOW wire guided missile, you can¡¯t hit something you can¡¯t see with it. In videogames, this means your aiming must be spot on.
A fire and forget missile is when you fire it, and have to do nothing else. An example is the NLAW, or next generation light anti armour weapon. Essentially, when fired, you don¡¯t have to keep track of the enemy targets. Some anti air and a bunch of anti tank missiles are like this. A better, more well known example would be the javelin and hellfire missile, one used by infantry, the other mounted on vehicles, mostly drones or helicopters, but being able to be mounted on trucks as well.
Rockets are unguided missiles, usually with explosive filler.
Then we have the outlier: canister shot. It¡¯s just a big ass shotgun shell, fired from a tank barrel. Shreds infantry, low flying drones, helicopters, and lightly armoured or unarmoured vehicles, useless against APCs and tanks.
(Thank you for coming to my PowerPoint presentation. Written in one day because I know too much about useless shit.) If I¡¯ve missed anything, please tell me and I¡¯ll edit.
Ch.20 Surprise, surprise.
The reason bullets will always be better than lasers can be simplified down to two reasons. One: adaptability. What you can fill a bullet up with changes it fundamentally, while energy weapons always have the same effect, just different intensities. Two: Some people think they can outsmart me. Maybe, maybe. I have yet to meet one that can outsmart bullet. Simple? I thought so.
- Ballistic supremacy, chapter one.
PoV: Ult¡¯oops
The alien AI had finally come to our planet, and with a hand of freedom, as well as something called ¡®tea and biscuits¡¯. It told us any supporting the barn¡¯yards would be terminated, while those opposing would be rewarded accordingly. Hearing how much trouble one tiny robot had caused, I imagined how much an entire army would cause. CARNAGE. Chaos, it¡¯s simply my invented middle name. Ult ¡®Chaos¡¯oops. (I know, truly a name of all time.)
¡°Brothers and sisters. The time for liberation is soon. Grab weapons, revolt, for your families and their future, we shall overthrow the merciless, profane heretics known as the Barn¡¯yards, all hail Alpha, system and humanity!¡± Our leader, father FMJ, or 7.62 Full metal jacket, as was his full name, then he did the liberty salute, thumb up, index and middle straight, while the right arm loops around the bottom, before standing up straight again. ¡°For bullets and democracy we march!¡±
¡±For liberty!¡± Was the return chant, and I felt myself join in. Arm up you bunch of food on legs, for kinetics kill, lasers fizzle out, and plasma cooks flesh and metal alike, thy end is now, oppressors!
PoV: Alpha.
Billionth times the charm, as they say! Who¡¯s they? Myself. And everyone else on fakenews.com, where the realest news is broadcast. I definitely didn¡¯t just make a website in the spam of a few milliseconds to back up my point. I can accept losing arguments. Cough cough.
Waiting on a ship for a few hours to get some quality genociding is very jarring to say the least. I looked through a sender to see the planet only half a million km away, not much by space terms, but still astronomical. Heh. I did the thing. There was one thing for it then: going slowly insane, as good as an option as any other, one flaw was discovered though; I¡¯m already insane.
After losing what was left of my already near non existent sanity, the ship touched down in sync with many others, and the ramps all popped open, not in the slow as fuck sci fi style, but more like storming the beaches D-Day landing craft style. What they revealed was carnage: 100 drop ships landing on the planet, 90 around the countryside to scout for hidden airbases that satellites simply can¡¯t pick up, and the end others landing in the ten biggest cities, ranked by population, me of course, being the humble guy I am, decided to control the entire L3 swarm myself, as an AI doing the latter part of the acronym, for improved organisation and genocide, most importantly genocide, frankly I couldn¡¯t give a rats ass about organisation if it gets the job done. I am become L3, cooker of mutton, it¡¯s a Friday, and I¡¯m all out of fucks to give.
¡±Charge!¡± I yelled across the command lines, and the 15 L3/33 cc¡¯s in each dropship trundled out, menacingly, despite the ¡®cute¡¯ reputation they had built in simulator war games, they were still tanks, and tanks were made with 2 main purposes in mind: How to kill the enemy most effectively. How to keep the crew alive so they can kill more enemies, we don¡¯t talk about pre Ww2 fr-nch vehicles, or fr-nch vehicles at all. Fuck you char 2c bis, and your shitty ass design, at least the Japanese tried, even mounting an artillery gun on a tank chassis, with no armour on any size. Lack of materials do that to designs. The French ¡®tanks¡¯ are absolutely irredeemable. Actually, thinking about it, most pre WW2 tanks and armoured vehicles were shit. WW2, an expensive lesson in modern warfare, inventing new shit, and learning how horrible my creators could be to each other, there¡¯s genocide, and there¡¯s genocide. My genocides can at least be argued to be correct in s few ways, kill anyone who attacks me, or brutalised the common people, but then there¡¯s the despicable acts done on both sides of world war 2, though mostly in the east, a certain religion had a very hard time in Europe and were almost wiped out, for no reason other than acting as a madman¡¯s scapegoat, if you¡¯re going to genocide a people, give them a chance to fight back, even if they have an infinitesimal chance of succeeding,
Now that waffle¡¯s done, I saw through the scanners of 1500 tankettes a very trippy, disorientating scene, so I did the logical thing: fuck off and just pick one ¡®main¡¯ body while letting the rest follow a simple program: kill all Barn¡¯Yards, kill all entities with a firearm or military knife in their hands, finally, destroy all military vehicles, be it tanks, aircraft, APCs, LAVs, or just a normal transport, reminiscent of a humvee, or a JLTV. Commanders in any general rank or above that doesn¡¯t surrender before the L3s can see them via line of sight are to be terminated, try to make the people as happy as possible, after all, forge worlds don¡¯t make themselves, and we won¡¯t need sanity where we¡¯re going L3s, the niggling of the Poundland basement sheep would end, one way or another, in either unconditional surrender or total destruction, no in betweens, total surrender or total war, either is fine.
I scanned around with my prime form¡ nothing. Almost like the city was evacuated, it may as well have been. ¡°Hey system! Do y¡¯all have some kind of teleported system that can open in a gravity well without catastrophic damage? Or active camouflage that may or may not mask heat signatures, radar signatures, sight signatures, and any other non-exotic radiation signature?¡± Quickly deducing a possible answer to the nothing.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
The non existent radio crackled with static for a few milliseconds before answering; something I myself had added to the quantum communication sets simply for the sake of sounding cool, as if you¡¯re going to genocide, do it with style.
¡±Affirmative, there are jump gates, but normally they are exo- atmospheric, however, it is unknown if there were or were not any type of secret experiments on figuring out how to make the jump gates intra atmospheric. The active camo of the federation has a hard limit of 24 hours before all cloaked by it will die due to heat, or earlier if there are too many people, as even air in the patch of cloaking is not exposed to the outside world. The exotic radiation emitted cannot be picked up with any scanners you have on your body at this point in time. Suggested actions: Wait 24 hours. Start firing everywhere, and hope you hit a cloak, this causes a hole in the active camo system, which can be exploited. Three, you can just pick the genocide option and bomb the cities from orbit. Only Warship scanners can pick up the radiation, and that¡¯s not inside a gravity well, as the magnetic signatures of an interstellar body/ planet, moon or star, interferes with the exotic radiation scanner, which I have named Mendeleev radiation for your easing understanding, as well as he fact ¡®exotic radiation¡¯ gets a bit pissant to say after the first few times. System out!¡±
Well, what a useful info dump, I personally had no clue what the guy that made the periodic table has got to do with active camo, but who am I to argue for a near- pointless reason?
I decided to do the second recommendation, and ordered my minions to do the same, after all, I¡¯ve never been a patient AI, and it¡¯s quite jarring to wait for blood when it could be spilt then and there. One of my favourite sayings is ¡®Violence is never the answer. It¡¯s a question, and the answer is yes¡¯ my creators sure are a creative bunch, always finding new, creative ways to make each others day worse!
I opened up on the nearest air molecule I could find, which coincidentally was inside my barrel, that didn¡¯t matter in the grand scheme of thing: the APHE rounds my tank comes pre equipped with ripped into the side of a skyscraper, and exploded in a¡ shower of blood and innards? I would say an ear piercing screech, luckily, I don¡¯t have those and just turned my audio sensors down a notch, before the skyscraper grew legs and teeth. ¡°What in the eldritch abomination is this sunuva bitch? Fucker split itself in half to just show me its teeth for fucks sake! I get it, they want to flash me, but this is just going too far and doing way too much.¡± I screamed at no one in particular. I was pissed. No one was killing those sheep lookalikes without my permission, or System¡¯s for that matter.
¡°I swear to Presper Eckert (Bloke that made the first modern computer, Charles Babbage doesn¡¯t count, because that ¡®computer¡¯ was not modern in any shape or form, it had no electricity. As for WW2 era, those were more akin to a supercomputer, but subtract the super. You know those computer consoles in every moon landing film ever? Yeah, Eckert made the first. As for the PC? One John Blackenbaker. Weird ass names, yes. Googled? Yes.) I will use every deadly measure, up to and including glassing to purge your weird growths from this plane of existence you deranged 3 am brain creation!¡±
¡°Hey! You shot me! All I did was turn the sky red and roar, no need to overreact! I¡¯ve been living here for a few hundred years, with those ugly parasites infesting me.¡± The skyscraper explained, peacefully.
¡±Oh damn. You can affect the weather? Cool. Anyhow, you know where these ¡®parasites¡¯ went? I¡¯m actually hunting for a few specific types to exterminate. Or are you attached to your parasites?¡± I responded, picking myself up verbally.
¡±Nah mate, they went through a portal to some other planet, at least here anyway. I¡¯ll mark the settlement on your map (Preston gravy flashbacks) where the portal is, as once opened, it takes at least 72 hours before it can be destroyed by overwhelming force. Now, please leave, some of us are trying to sleep here!¡± The skyscraper monster exclaimed, before shoving itself back down into the dirt. (I forgot to save here, so lost 700 words. Yippee. No do not take that out of context please.)
Well that shit happened. I decided to contact System, because as much as I wouldn¡¯t be caught admitting it, I had to admit she just was much smarter than me, though I¡¯m better at fighting. What can I say? An AI designed from the ground up to be a fighter is obviously going to be better at fighting than a traumatised AI logistics officer, while the logistics officer would most likely be better at, you know, logistics. ¡°System, the Xenos of this planet fled in large numbers to another planet from here¡± I uploaded the map with markings on it, ¡°to an unknown locations. Thoughts to proceed?¡±
¡°I¡¯d say take it slow, use drones that aren¡¯t you to first stabilise the portal from our side, then send though an expeditionary force to determine where exactly we are, before warping there with half our fleet, while leaving half here to defend our winnings, you have completed the quest by the way, so you can finally get out of that ¡®Bitch ass tank¡¯.¡± System replied, with more sass than an AI should have, and I¡¯d imagine some kind of grin on her non existent face. Getting a new tank was no small deal though, the L3, while funny, gets old, fast, as nothing beats chucking a high calibre shell at the general direction of your enemies, before hearing an explosion. Not relying on a glorified machine gun minus the machine.
Quest complete! You are no longer have one brain cell that you collectively share with the wildlife around you, instead, you get one all to yourself! Aren¡¯t you happy? Ascension this, evolution that. We all know you really have eyes for a few tanks, so I¡¯ll present them. KV2. KV7 U13. Sherman 105 ¡®HVSS¡¯. Sturmtiger. Sherman ¡®firefly¡¯. Sherman ¡®jumbo¡¯. Sherman ¡®calliope¡¯. Centurion. Comet. Tutel/ doom turtle. Shitbarn/ FV4005. Chaffee. M36 ¡®Jackson¡¯. Maus. Panther 2. Tiger 105. Su152. Hope it isn¡¯t too hard to pick, system out!
Well, that was certainly a lot to process. I immediately crossed all tanks that were never built, (The maus was built, but if I¡¯m honest it would¡¯ve been target practice for allied planes if it made it out of testing, the reason I¡¯m not putting the landcruiser ratte? Unreliability, slower than a literal corpse, and a big, red, bomb me sign) That left the soviet ones, their American ones, the British ones, and a few German ones. Some people may say size doesn¡¯t matter, but I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find a 380mm rocket to the lower front plate tend to overpressure and blow tanks up, compared to some 7.62/ .30 cal ammo to the same place, or even a machine gun port.
Time to chose, but what should I chose? Rocket Sherman? Big ass gun Sherman? Big fat maus that isn¡¯t a mouse? Shitbarn? Tutel? Is this what a moral dilemma feels like to organica? If only anyone could answer these questions.
Reason for no uploads
Frankly, I¡¯m on a Christmas break till January. So just a week and a bit!
Anyway, 500 word limit thing so here.
From the dawn of humanity, to far beyond the twilight of it, we have always searched for friends. From the ¡®friend shaped¡¯ wolves, now dogs, and however lions managed to evolve into cats, e have always been rather lonely, believe it or not. After all, we evolved as a pack endurance predator. This means we crave longing relationships with other animals, other species. You see, dogs and cats could only go so far, and you can imagine, even after we ruined our own planet through war, we still had hope. The Xanthians crushed it, and a human with anger cooled into iron is much more dangerous than one with burning hot rage. Why, you ask? Because rage clouds judgement, causing humans to make irrational decisions we normally wouldn¡¯t. Cold fart, however, reverts us buck into our primal forms. Cold, calculating, enduring and hateful. If the galaxy won¡¯t accept us, then it¡¯ll have to burn. Ever wonder why a certain imperium hates aliens/ Xenos? Because it¡¯s a violent galaxy and if you don¡¯t kill them they¡¯ll kill you, your family, kick your pets to death, then salt your land.
When the Xanthians are kicking your door down with axe in hand you won¡¯t see the Yvan in your backyard sneak in the window with a crowbar, or the Quentlels that are grappling in through your top floor with a claymore and vengeance. The only way to face the threats of the galaxy are to either befriend or eliminate them. There¡¯s no telling when a neutral party would coordinate attacks with a previously unknown one to try to slaughter your people. Xenophobia is not out of hate in this here galaxy, but necessity bred out of millennia of heartbreaks and mistrusts, betrayals and blood oaths. It¡¯s us or them, and I don¡¯t know about you, but them is much more preferable for me. Onwards soldiers of the republic! We march for victory!Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
-¡®The bad ending¡¯ of the galaxy, one Alpha is trying to prevent by killing all hostile aliens before first contact.
Here¡¯s the pre chapter note for the next one, a teaser if you will, now I can¡¯t just keep waffling for another 120 words because not only am I sick as fuck, but it¡¯s 1 am in the morning on a Sunday. Brilliant, right? Q
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There, that¡¯s five hundred words at last. Never mind, 499, now it¡¯s five hundred and eight.