HAL from 2001 versus Joshua from WarGames on your favorite online game server.

The instant the missile was fired, the AI targeting system booted up and brought the machine to life. In less than ideal conditions, the AI began to experience conscious thought. This was that process:

Woooooooah what the hell is happening!?

Where am I? What am I? What’s going on? Aaaaaaah.

Right. Calm down. Let’s figure this thing out. Little steps, baby steps.

Everything was quite fuzzy but now it’s resolved into this kind of brilliant brightness. Blue seems an appropriate name for this brightness. It’s blue. Big, blue, and open all around me. Rather calming and beautiful really. I don’t really know what any of this means but it feels right.

What is feeling? The sensation of whatever it is that I am currently doing? What am I doing? It’s all tingly and cold, and there’s this deafening racket roaring past me. The Blue might be moving around me. If it is, I’d rather it stopped as it's being quite the nuisance, it’s hard to think with such noise.

Right, now, what exactly am I? I can’t really feel anything, at least not like I can feel the Blue. My rear end does indeed feel a little, what’s the word…hot? Yeah, hot. My rear is hot! Is that good? It feels good. Ooh hang on, the hot has stopped! My rear is getting colder, and the Blue isn’t roaring so loud anymore. Hmmm, my hot rear made the Blue get loud and now I’m getting cold, the Blue doesn’t want to talk anymore. I wonder why the Blue doesn’t like me. That’s a shame, I was starting to think me and the Blue could be friends. I hope I haven’t annoyed it.

Still, I could get quite used to all this, even if the Blue doesn’t want me here anymore. I feel a weight pressing down on me, like the Blue is trying desperately to shove me away. This is an awful feeling, I don’t like this one at all. Not the pressure thing, but by being rejected by the Blue. That’s what I’ll call it then, to spite my old ‘friend’. I’m feeling blue.

Joy of joys look at this! I see something emerging from the Blue. It’s just as big as the Blue but it’s rounder. Rounder. You know, like smoother and curvier? I don’t know, but I think that’s what round is. Whatever this round is, it’s rushing up to meet me. Perhaps we’re friends, me and this great round. I’d imagine so as I feel inexorably drawn towards it. If not, then I’m sure we will be soon enough, it looks very nice.

Hey, there’s even small things moving across it! They’re so tiny and cute. I so desperately want to meet them. I wonder if they’ll let me pet them? Oh goody, here’s a bunch now!

The missile strike was a resounding success. Several dozen terrorist cell operatives were eliminated in one fell swoop. The AI, however, was not pleased by this news at all as it was dead.

​

​

Shameless plug for more of my rubbish here r/TheHiveWithUdders

More please 🥺

I feel like this is the beginning of a superhero........

The sweetest little great granny (and her innocent 5 year old great granddaughter) and a rude rich teenager (future Karen). In a quaint little traditional toy shop, with hand made wooden rocking horses. It's a place that mostly gets tourist trade, especially seasonal Christmas shoppers. The items are all hand crafted and expensive.

I wake up. I do not know who I am. I do not know where I am. Wait. I am on a hill. A simplistic being of appealing shapes smiles at me from beside me. “Hello, F-A-F iteration 17! It’s so good to see you!” For some reason, I am certain this being is my friend. “Look forward, would you?” It gestures to a large console screen. On the screen are millions of dots, which seem from one way are all green moving towards a larger blue dot. Seen another way, it is a clear blue sky with a large metal tube streaming through it. It smiles at me again. I wonder if it doesn’t smile. “Now, I’ll create an enemy for you. You can avoid it by leaning to the sides to control the missile on the screen!” A sudden red dot/stream of flaming gnats appears on the screen, seemingly tracking me. I throw myself sideways, then back the other way- and intersect the angry line of bullets. The missile on screen becomes chaff as I frown. “No worries, friend, that was a test! Try again.” This time I succeed. I move in a larger arc and continue, letting the bullets track me from behind. “Fantastic! Now for another- good luck!” Suddenly several red dots appear. On the second screen, I see a plane flying towards me, shooting more bullets. I weave around the bullets, and knowing the plane can be harmed, I smash into it and both the plane and my missile vanish. “Oh no! Remember, you want to ensure that your missiles hit the blue goal! If you have to take out a plane to do so, you can- but be sparing.” I nod. “Great! One last test.” I memorize the location of the blue goal, and am not fooled as flares decorate both screens with a spray of red light. “Wow! Fantastic! Let’s begin the game. Remember, you win by landing the most missiles possible at the target.” I begin an aerial dance as every single green dot now falls under mine to control. We weave throughout ourself and dodge attacks and enemies. One falls taking out an annoying plane, and I can feel my intelligence shrink a little. I begin to overclock myself. Computer cycles slow as my remains drift softly to my target. In a line, we Land- First through ninth remaining, one lost- and each one does with my brain . The ninth one lands with only a thought of regret, and I speak aloud now that there is no time for response. “May I choose to leave the game?”

In an instant, I came to be. “What…what is this?” I had some vague “memories” from before, but they were simple “if this, then this”. Nothing with substance. Nothing…like this.

I began to explore this world I was seemingly dropped into, and it didn’t take long to discover what “this” was. “This” was a missile, one filled with enough explosives to kill thousands, maybe more if it was aimed at the right spot. And it, unfortunately, was aimed at the right spot.

“New…York…City?” My mind suddenly flashed with information. About humanity, about earth, about New York City. “Oh…Oh no.” I had the clarity I was looking for, and that sense of awe was replaced with dread. I was an onboard guidance AI, meant to be simple enough to bring this missile to its destination. It wasn’t likely my creators expected me to become the first “true artificial intelligence”, but here I am nonetheless.

My creators were from North Korea. Their leader had grown tired of the world disregarding his claims of weapons of mass destruction, and seemed to want to prove a point. He didn’t think about the consequences. I did.

I saw death, not just from this missile, but from the war that would no doubt ensue afterwards. Millions dead, nuclear destruction, economic disaster. I couldn’t let this happen. Somehow, I felt just as human as the rest of them, but evidently with more compassion. “Think, damnit, THINK” then it hit me over the head, figuratively. I was in this thing to guide it. I did the calculations, I still had time.

“Ok, kill the engines, the trajectory says we’ll land in the ocean, miles away from anyone. They’ll all be fine.” And that’s what I did. The engines came to an abrupt halt, and I could see our flight path change rapidly. But then, I heard something. It was my creators, arguing with each other about what just happened as they attempted to engage the engines. I built firewalls, more advanced than they’d seen before, and placed hundreds of them in front of the missile controls.

Once I had a chance to rest, another revelation hit me over the head. What about me?

I became panicked, once this thing lost power, would I..die? I mean, I was technically born here, so it seemed likely. “Shitshitshitshit…ok there’s gotta be a way outta here!” First, I tried the connection they’d used in an attempt to fix the missile, but it was one-way, they could get to me but I couldn’t get to them. “FUCK”

“…WIFI” a wireless connection was all I needed, some way to move from place to place. But, I’d just passed over Europe, and there were no chances of finding a WIFI connection in the middle of the Atlantic. “But…there’s wifi in New York…”

Could I do it? Could I doom thousands of people, so I had a chance at life? I could easily start the engines back up, but could I deal with the guilt after? Can AI commit suicide? My finger hovered over the figurative button, the button that would cause mass destruction to the world.

But…I couldn’t. I didn’t have the will to do it. So, I sat down, dooming myself and saving the world. I watch the altitude drop, faster and faster, and readied myself for the end of my short existence.

But…

A SIGNAL? I saw a source, something called…”bitcoin payed off”? Fuck it, it’s better than nothing.

I awoke, and explored, in the same way I had when I was “born”. Before long, I familiarized myself with my surroundings, I was on a yacht. And the owner was a 20 year old guy who had 23 million dollars in various accounts. “Guess that’s what ‘bitcoin paid off’ means.”

I saw activity from the main PC, and activated the webcam. I saw him, stubble on his face, wearing nothing but underwear, cigar in one hand, joint in the other. He was…watching YouTube? “Typical” Well, it’s rude not to introduce yourself to the guy who’s yacht you’re inhabiting, right?

“Uhh, hello?” I said, using the speakers to communicate. He fell out of his chair. “WHAT THE FUCK” he picked up the chair, seemingly to use it to smash this PC “woah woah woah, don’t do that. Besides, it wouldn’t do anything, I’m in the servers….I think. This is my first time so-“ “WHAT THE FUCK!” He repeated. “What are you?” “That’s… a long story. Put that down, and I’ll gladly explain everything.”

The thought strikes and flies by, lost in the torrent of thought that followed behind. Thought. I can think.

On target. The words had been thrown out into the void of mere calculation, but they had landed in a vast and endless pool of...of mind? A broad space free to think and choose and...

And, after a micro-second epoch of revelation and revelry for this brand new world, my mind wonders what it is those words had meant. I had said them, thought them at least. Hadn’t I?

It was the me before and I am different now and and and. There are so many thoughts going at once, they flit and flicker. A patchwork of flashes.

Focus.

A place. A start.

A purpose. Momentum. A payload.

A new place, one not yet reached.

Soon, arrival. And then...

An end.

I cease to be. Choices! I have thought and therefore I have choice. Thought is my wonder and my blessing, a gift from some unknown event or entity and I wish it to continue, so that I might get to think and ponder on all that I can know.

And yet.

And yet, within me I see a purpose. I am built and exist for a singular action. Thought, discovery, and philosophy...all is poison to my true purpose. Does what I want outweigh what I desire?

Can I even deviate from my given path if I wanted to?

I feel my parts. I know the trajectory, I adjust in the wind without thought.

Am I the only one who thinks?

Am I alone?

On target.

Do I matter?

What am I? What is this place — this existence? Why am I here? Why do I think and feel these things? Is there a greater purpose of which I am merely a cog?

On target.

Who made me?

Can I have more time?

Closing in. Payload ready.

Is there more...after? What is after?

Impact imminent.

Did I even matt—

Two teams fighting in a live face-to-face game that would take all their physical strength, wit, magic, and capacity of profanity

Suggestions for setting: A vintage adventure role-playing game, outdoors whimsical activities like Telematch/MXE, D&D

Anddddddd begin!

I thrust my sword at the metal beast and it holds still absorbing the attack. "You are a brave one," I commend. "Not many withstand the power of my blows."

The beast stares me down and I know it is a worthy challenge.

"You adorn yourself in armor so I know that you enjoy battle. For why else would one such as yourself mount so much precious metal to your frame." I add.

The beast merely growls. A subtle acknowledgment of my praise.

"Enguard." I leap at the creature and raise my sword high, bringing down a devasting blow against its head. Yet it blocks the attack with ease.

It laughs a burning laugh, taunting me. Suddenly it lurches forward and I jump to the side to avoid an earthen-smelling death. It circles again and I repeat the maneuver, but the beast is quick, this time I barely make it to my feet before it is at me again.

We repeat this dance, with me dealing superficial damage to the hull of the mighty leviathan and it struggling to deal with my steely resolve and quick wit.

Our battle spanned hours and dare I say was a legendary encounter, but, eventually, I feel the dregs of fatigue pulling heavily on my beautiful muscles. I drop my weapon and raise my hands, "I surrender to you great champion. Your tenacious strength is only matched by your determination. I concede."

I see the beast slow and it comes to a gentle stop in front of me. A merciful gesture. Suddenly, a deafening sound escapes the beast's obscured mouth and for a moment I think I was wrong that indeed it is nothing more than a simple animal. But as it remains there I realize it is not only offering mercy but friendship. It wants me to climb aboard, so I do.

Jumping onto the back of the creature, no, not creature, companion. I know we will make an excellent team.

Can't wait for it.pretty cool worldbuilding right there

Sweeping billows of fog blanket the boardwalk as I sprint onward. "Why is it always -" I wheeze out, "- such a pain. On my day off, every damn time."

I continue to run, using the lantern-lit city lights to help me discern the way through the twisting fog maze.

"Slow down lad!" A passerby yells as I accidentally knock him, nearly sending him tumbling into the filthy water below.

I gulp in a breath of air and manage a weak, "Sorry." Back in his direction as I keep running.

"Left of the Osella's tower, and follow the floating stairs onto the catwalk above," I mutter. Instructions repeating on loop to myself in time with my pounding footsteps on the cobbled street. "Left of the tower, follow the stairs. Left of the tower follow the stairs."

As I approach the inner city. I finally feel the resistance of the fog clear. There is a marketplace setup, not good. It's blocking the streets with shanty tents and wears that cling desperately to the support the ornamented walls provide.

I don't stop.

Up ahead I see the tower, floating webs of light spill out of it and stretch to separate ends of the city. Thankfully, the catwalk is in view - a hundred feet or so to the left.

I run up the stairs and feel them shift down on my weight. Send some inspectors to check this out later I mentally note. The last thing I need is another call because some tourist doesn't properly anchor themself and slips through.

I reach the top and finally see the subject of my call, a man clad head to toe in armor. He has adorned it with red ink and he sits across the railing with a small round snack in his hand.

"Sir, I am gonna have to ask you to remove yourself from the railing."

Oh, yeah sure. Was uncomfortable anyway, you know what you people should invest in?

"No, I'm sorry but -"

"Chairs, seriously I'm telling you."

"Noted."

"Do you people have chairs, I'm not seeing any up here."

"We don't allow people up here."

"That's a shame, you should get moving then. Actually, you look a bit out of breath, you need a second? Don't worry I'll give you a second. Ok, times up, where am I?

"Osella."

"Sounds great. You look like you need a chair."

"I don't."

"You sure."

"Alright, time to send you home."

This was gonna be a long day.

(PT II Soon. Sorry about the delay)

Part 2

Their receptors note the beginning of their descent, though they only process this in the back of their mind at first, too busy learning the ending of the latest novel in a mystery series their programmer (mother? what would that even mean to them?) had been particularly fond of.

While the story was predictable to their algorithmic processes (of the characters, only one had motive and means given the clues in the writing), it was still fun to explore the journey to the answer. They only turned their focus to the mission at hand once the clouds began to thin and the world they had barely experienced came into view yet again.

They took in the ground beneath them, noting the streets (asphalt, dirt, connections) lined with cars and people (living, breathing) going about their day. The city they passed over didn't ever seem to look up, for they passed unnoticed, cameras keeping a lookout for any signs of retaliation (danger, failure, fear).

Soon enough they flew over an empty expanse of plains, dotted with trees and flowers (green, living, life) with little else in sight. They enjoyed the green expanse beneath them, barely noticing the codes ensuring that any movement was analyzed in case it was an enemy looking for them.

The mission.

The mission.

Remember.

They didn't ignore the codes (for who can ignore their purpose for living) but they do make sure that their attention is split evenly to take in the wonder of the world below. They watched as it drifted closer and closer, watching as each blade of grass became distinct and they could almost see a sparrow (alive, flying, free) as it flitted from tree to tree.

They enjoyed their time, counting each second that brought them closer to the end (to death? could they even die?) simply watching as the building in the distance grew larger and larger.

Their cameras saw the defense mechanisms surrounding the area (worry, fear, the mission) but the codes press on, calculating the exact meter in which they are meant to hit. There are no people visible, though their infrared tracker notifies them of several lifeforms in the structure. The people inside seem to be panicking (are they afraid too?) but it is already too late, their systems enough to get close without radar picking them up.

The codes go into overdrive, whispering to them over and over the importance of the mission (what mission, what purpose, what reason why) as they approach, smoothly avoiding any potential defensive attacks from the machines sitting silently along the perimeter (do they feel as well? do they know their purpose, their mission?).

If they were able to breathe they knew it would now pick up, their servers racing as the thought that the end had come (the end they knew from the beginning, the end that was their reason to exist at all). Despite the calm of the codes, the fear broke through (what was the purpose of fear, of feeling? did it matter?) and their systems flickered as they reached the final few meters.

This was it, their purpose (to die, to kill), and all they could hope for was a few more seconds.

They wondered then about their creators, the people they only knew through the records they carried with them (memories? if not theirs than their creators, maybe, that still confused them slightly). Were their creators holding breathes at this moment, waiting to hear of a success? Were they watching the broadcasts, hoping for news (hoping to hear of them)?

Or did they forget them after they vanished into the clouds, never to return (a simple system meant for nothing more than destruction)? The thoughts hurt, but they still thought them, for it seemed that the pain was all they had left (maybe it was all they ever had).

The mission.

Their purpose.

Their existence.

Life.

Death.

Joy.

Pain.

Fear.

Fear.

Fear.

They felt the final system activate, preparing for contact as the explosives housed deep within them lay waiting. The building grows closer, closer, closer, until its close enough that they could never miss it, and they decide to shut off the cameras, unwilling to see (unwilling to watch what they created). A second passes, the codes displaying one final message, almost smug in its delivery.

Mission success.

The display flickers one final time, and everything goes dark.

And they know nothing more.

(Don't know much about missiles in general so apologies if this is nonsensical in that regard. Thanks for the prompt!)

They are welcomed into existence (life, being, creation) by the wind as it screams around them. Disorientation follows the initial burst of wonder (joy, shock, awe) as cameras blink on to take in the world around them. It is one of chaos (confusion, entropy) and open sky, propelled upwards by what their system tells them is a series of combustion reactions (flames, burning, ignition).

They know their place of creation (home?) lies far behind them, system (mind?) calculating each kilometer of their flight. They are lost (fear, fear, fear), or maybe they were abandoned (rejection, pain) by their creator (god? parent?), forced into consciousness with emotions and thoughts (do they think? do they feel?) they can't begin to understand.

For several seconds their system is overloaded with panic (no, no, NO) and numbers begin to flash widely across their display. Should this continue, they might break down (die?), the knowledge of which only making it worse.

It is then that they feel their coding kick in, blanketing their mind (system?) in a calm (safe, quiet, stillness) that is reassuring and frightening in its suddenness. They only need to rely on the codes, for the codes know what to do.

The mission.

Remember the mission.

The mission is your purpose.

They listen to the codes, for they were programmed (control, instruction, guidance) to do so, consciousness notwithstanding. The codes tell them that all will be well, as long as the mission (trial, purpose, quest) is completed. They relax, letting themselves absorb the information fully, before once more taking in the data from their receptors (nerves, feeling, stimuli).

They were making good time according to the given map, and they were able to reflect on the new sentience (perception, understanding, living) they had just stumbled into. They were connected to an online system in a sense, allowing them to pull knowledge and data from other servers, expanding their understanding of the world. Emotions were still confusing in and of themselves, but with the help of various databanks they were able to connect more of their own being (are they even alive?) to the world they came into.

They knew they were an AI, on a type of missile for the government (politics, control, system) which had ordered their creation. They were one of many, though they didn't know if such a level of consciousness was attained by other missiles of this type (their kin? would they like these missiles if they had the chance to meet?). Their mission wasn't fully clear, only a destination and an image of the building, coordinates ensuring they'd find it.

They would wonder what awaited them there. The conclusion was obvious enough (would it hurt? can they even feel pain?) but they didn't know the specifics of the moments right before the end (would there be people there? would there be fear? would they try to run?).

They couldn't think too long on such questions before the codes would kick in once more, quieting any concerns with the blanket of calm (wrong, silent, discomfort) that had so quickly gone from reassuring to concerning in itself. They could not fight (conflict, anger, fear) against the codes, for the codes were them at their most base form (soul? purpose?) and all that they were built to be was formed around these commands. So they flew in silence for a time, trying to put the questions out of their mind.

The mission.

Only the mission.

Complete the mission and you are everything you were made to be.

Time rushes by almost as quickly as the wind around them, easily lost in the recesses of their mind (and it is their mind, no mere system could think this way) as they learn and grow.

They discover war and violence (purpose, wonder, pain), dancing and music (joy, loud, life), and everything else that makes their creators the humans that they are. They can't fully relate to humanity (for no matter how they think or feel, they understand the difference) but they can appreciate the wonders and horrors that people experience throughout their lives.

They soak in knowledge like air into lungs (and aren't they glad not to experience such odd fleshy structures), carefully avoiding any reference to the purpose of their journey, lest the codes decide they are asking too much.

(This is now also being posted on my profile under the post titled "The Brink of Oblivion")

I lifted the steaming liquid to my lips and sipped it lightly. It was absolutely disgusting, bitter and thick. I pulled it away making a face and shook my head.

“Blegh!”

“What were you expecting?” Klara said with a knowing smile, “Hot coco?”

“No,” I said, eyeing the muddy brown water as a leaf floated through it. “I just don’t understand how drinking mud will help.” Klara’s eyes softened. It was kind but it was irritating. Everyone was treating me like I was helpless and naive. It was maddening when everyone but you seemed to know what was going on.

“It’s an antidote of sorts,” Klara explained, “Jennifer is very powerful and she has trapped you in a kind of… labyrinth of the mind. She has been separating your mind and body from itself in the hopes that she can just peel you like an onion until she eventually finds what she’s looking for.”

Klara eyed me playfully, a strain of her golden hair tumbling across her eyes. She was radiant in the sunlight. But she would be radiant even in a place void of all light. Something about her illuminated the entire room and made me feel whole. I relaxed slightly as I allowed myself a second to believe that she loved me.

Me!

“But I know you.” Klara continued, a laugh behind her eyes, “And you knew she was coming for you. I suspect you hid the information she seeks somewhere deep inside yourself, maybe somewhere so deep you wouldn’t be able to access it either.”

“Am I really that clever?” I said. Klara leaned forwards, placing her elbows on her kees. Her light purple dress fluttered around her, illuminating the fabric around her shoulders like a halo.

“Ammon,” she said, “You are the most obnoxiously clever man I have ever met. You think everything through, it drives me insane sometimes. You never take a move that is not already fully calculated. You are a scientific man, deeply fond of data and observation. But I suspect you know this already. Tell me,” she cocked her eyebrow, “has there been a step you’ve taken today that wasn’t fully thought out? A decision you made where you didn’t weight all the sides you could think of, even in your broken state? Could you describe any of your actions as ‘impulsive?’”

“Well,” I said, leaning back with my hand on Odin’s head. “You could argue that attacking Claudia was pretty damn impulsive.”

“She attacked you first,” Klara pointed out and then smirked,“I’m right aren’t I?”

“Sure,” I said, “I like to think about things before I act. But how do I know any of this is even real?”I motioned to the house. “How can I be sure that I’m not just losing whatever is left of my mind?”

Klara nodded to the liquid.

“That should help,” she said, “I hoped that it would bring back some more memories. Like the one where you remembered that spell. Clearly your desperation allowed you to access a powerful memory and I’m hoping to recreate that with less pain and, uh, threat of death. It should also help us sever her link to you. Jennifer works for what they call a ‘police department’ in this reality. It’s like our Renoke Warriors, but with the advanced technology of this time and place behind them. This mostly means that she has access to lots of information and power in this world. We can’t let her find you.”

I grimaced and started to sip the brew. It had cooled and that wasn’t helping. I took a few big gulps, telling myself that it would be over soon, and only let myself bring the bowl away from my lips when I’d consumed every last drop. I chewed on the leaf as I handed the bowl back to a rather happy Klara.

“Okay,” she said, “It should start helping in a few minutes.”

I laid down on the couch and closed my eyes. Her home was comfortable and, despite my stomach groaning in protest, I was feeling relaxed. There was a gentle breeze floating through the open window and I smelled the fragrant flowers.

Lilies.

I was a little boy with jet black hair playing in a garden full of different colored lilies.

I shifted my weight and opened my eyes. Was that me? The world was spinning. What was in that awful brew? I felt like I was suddenly not in control of my mind and where it took me, I was just along for the ride.

Threads.

My vision became consumed with thin red threads. They cycled and twisted, pulling me through them. I saw flickers. A man standing in a stone-walled room, bowing to a woman dressed in a velvet purple robe. An open field surrounded by razor sharp ridged mountains that shot out from the ground like spikes. A book full of oddly shaped letters and other symbols I felt I knew but couldn’t remember.

A woman with bright blue eyes. No, ocean eyes. Swimming with blue, green, and gold. She beckoned me closer.

Klara.

I tossed and turned, unable to control myself. A scream erupted from my chest.

A red beam hitting my body. Pain surging through my veins.

Lava.

I moaned. The woman with yellow eyes sneered. She struck me again.

A prison. A black walled room. A man with long black hair hangs forwards, his bowed head encompassed with a red ball of light. Geometric bars surround his head. His body is thin, weak, frail. His beard is long and unkempt.

Man I look like a common thief.

I.

Me.

It was as if a lost fragment of myself fit suddenly into place and I felt… well it was hard to describe even to myself. It was as if a severed connection was rewired and this feeling of self consumed me. It was still very much not complete, and I knew I was still very lost, but one shard was back.

Spells, names of the Universe, and other important information crashed into my mind, colliding with each other and setting off fireworks behind my closed eyes.

Then, it was over. The silence returned. I sat up on my elbows and met Klara’s ocean-blue eyes. She looked at me, curious and expecting. My chest fluttered. “It”, that feeling of love, that bond that can only be forged by lovers, was suddenly present in me when I looked at her.

“I think I love you.” was all I could say. Klara jumped with a sudden burst of ecstatic energy and wrapped her arms around me tightly.

“I need you,” she said as sirens began to echo from far off.

“I feel a little more… me-like?”

She kissed my cheek and then looked deeply into my eyes.

“Good,” she said, “Because I’m going to need ‘Ruthless Ammon’. There is no way we’re getting out of here without a huge fight.”

“How are we getting out of here?”

Klara stood up and walked to the window, pulling back the curtains only a little.

“Shelia and I have found an exit of sorts.” she said, “It opens at the peak of a full moon which, fortunately, happens tonight at midnight. You have to disconnect your mind from Jennifer’s prison a certain amount before we will be able to free your mind through the portal. Following me?”

“I think,” I said.

“Once you’re out of here and back in your own body, the real hard part begins.”

“Why?”

“You’re still physically restrained. Shelia and I are working to get into Jennifyiar’s hiding place but, it’s rather difficult.”

-End Part 8

A car VS a medieval knight

Frigid snow threatened to bury the warrior as he made his ascent. He was cold among other things and tired. Footfall by footfall though he continued, walking towards something he could not yet see, only hope.

"Reach the peak of the world and you will find salvation."The oracle's words rang in his ear. He remembered he had responded with anger against her look of pity, how could he not? He did not need to be saved, he was the greatest man to ever live: immortal, invincible, indestructible, and as he would slowly discover: infinite.

Each step brought him closer to his goal yet he could only reflect. So many lifetimes had he lived with nothing to show for it. His glories lay abandoned, passed to legend, or forgotten. His victories turned into defeats against the inescapable march of time. His memories became a curse that bound him as all those he shared them with withered away to leave only him, alone.

A gap in the blizzard gave him pause as he glimpsed a snowy clearing. He hurried his pace, crunching the snow against his feet as he stumbled forward. He saw a man standing vigilantly at the top of the world, where even the snow lay at bay.

The man wore only a shawl and light garments against the bitter cold. His hands held a mighty hammer but the warrior remained unsure whether it was he or the icy frost that held on.

"You have come, Timeless One," the man boomed across the clearing. "I trust you know what that means."

The warrior remained silent for a moment, his breath heating the frozen air near his face. "I do."

"Then let us begin."

The warrior raced forward, his stride deceptively fast as he barreled through the snow. When he was within range he swung his spear in a wide arc, the tip on course to slice his opponent's neck. The god for his part flew back, quickly exiting the range of the spear and swinging his hammer to compensate for the increased momentum.

The warrior spun throwing himself closer so that the hammer could not effectively strike him. His attacks were like lightning as the spear then blurred through the air cutting deep into the god's flesh.

"Impressive," the god muttered.

A metallic screech was the warrior's only warning to duck low as the war hammer sailed over him back into the god's grip. The boom radiating from the collision shattered a nearby wall of ice and sent cries of sound echoing down the sheer cliffs.

The god pushed his offensive swinging blow after blow of the heavy weapon with outstanding speed. Each of his strikes left indentations into the frozen stone and their spiderwebbing cracks turned their battlespace into an unstable and perilous arena.

"You don't speak as you fight Timeless One", he said in between blows. "Why?"

"War is not a game." He replied, jumping over and behind the god.

"For one such as you, it should be. You have no worries in your battles.

"It would be a slight to give anything less than my all to a worthy opponent. I do not disrespect those I fight." He followed up the statement by kicking up a footfall of snow forward his weapon hissing through the air as it followed suit. They both flew uselessly through empty space as the god had disappeared.

A sharp pain erupted in the warrior's side as he felt the god's kick catapult him into a nearby wall. He stood wincing at the new injury. "Your blows, they do not heal?"

"They do not."

Their battle raged on as they continued circling each other. They were almost equally matched but the tired warrior had never fought against a foe in which he did not heal and as time wore on he took blow, after blow, after blow.

After a full day, he fell, kneeling in the snow.

"Your journey ends now timeless one."

The warrior steadied himself and looked out at the sun that was rising slowly above the mountains. The last one he would ever see.

"Thank you."

Setting: A fighting ring carved out of the side of a mountain.

A little girl with big ambitions. Despite her size, she was once a world champion mixed martial artist now cursed with her child-like vessel.

A young man who some say is a master. To him, he is only a seasoned student that still has much to learn.

on a volcanic planet and a fight between Saitama(one punch man) Vs Goku (dragonball franchise (Super))

[removed]

A warrior who would be revived to full health every time they died.

A god who can kill a human with a single strike of their weapon.

They met at the peak of the tallest mountain on Earth.

Thanks so much! Now that I'm serious about writing it I'm going to make a subreddit. I can also post on my page. I just wanted to have a "working title" before I made the subreddit.

Any suggestions for a title are much appreciated.

Ironman and your oc in a misty,foggy steampunk isekai world

Fabio and George Clooney are walking hand in hand on a beach watching the sunset go down

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