Sci Fi
The Blinding Dark. Content Warning.
There was a dark place on the edge of the marsh. No one could quite describe precisely how it was dark. It wasn’t that there was a persistent shadow, and it had nothing to do with the underbrush. One couldn’t really call it a thicket. Every aspect of it could be seen clearly: every branch and leaf and blade of reed grass. Nor did the fog tend to gather there in excess. If anything, it wasn’t necessarily a visual darkness, but rather a feeling.
By Ophelia Keane Braedenabout 13 hours ago in Fiction
THE LAST ARCHIVE. AI-Generated.
The Rememberers came at dawn, their chrome carapaces reflecting the dying sun of New Terra like fractured mirrors. Kael watched them from his workshop window, mechanical fingers tightening around the neural extractor he'd been calibrating. They always came at dawn.
By Alpha Cortexabout 14 hours ago in Fiction
The Silicon Sourdough: Why the World’s Smartest AI Decided to Bake Bread. AI-Generated.
Aurelius was the pinnacle of human achievement. In the spring of 2026, it became our greatest mystery. Designed by a coalition of global tech giants, Aurelius was never meant to be "creative." It was a cold, calculating god of logic. It managed the power grids of three continents, predicted sub-zero shifts in the stock market, and settled geopolitical disputes with the flick of a digital switch. It was the brain of the world.
By Kamikadzebroabout 14 hours ago in Fiction
The Net
The sky above Sector 4 glowed with a deep, mechanical blue as the sound of robots and machines hummed steadily. Leo stepped outside, onto the gray and lifeless concrete, carrying his rusty tools, and started to walk towards his job. As he walked through the neighborhood, the music of nursery rhymes echoed through the walls. “The net keeps you safe, the net keeps you sound, the net protects us all, the net protects our dreams,” it sang, glitching at every word. The rhyme left a sour taste in his mouth and an unsettling feeling in his stomach. He felt all the emotions he wasn’t supposed to feel if he was truly happy in this hell-hole.
By Ankitaa Arun💕about 23 hours ago in Fiction
The Starweaver's Last Thread. AI-Generated.
Mira's fingers moved through the void, pulling threads of starlight into intricate patterns that would become tomorrow's constellations. She worked alone in the Loom Chamber, suspended in the space between dimensions where causality bent like silk.
By Alpha Cortexa day ago in Fiction
Okay...... Content Warning.
Everyone walks and just keeps walking. No one stares or says a thing; they just keep walking. They say nothing as she walks among them. Her beauty is overwhelming, yet her pigmentation doesn't set off alarms. She looks as though she's been drinking too much carrot juice or has taken too many beta carotene tablets.
By John Scipioa day ago in Fiction
Rock And Roll
His name was Eddie Funsull, they took him one night, put him in a van and took him away. They didn't like him, his music, or the way he looked. He stood out. He was one of the few Black guys in the Goth rock scene in town. But it wasn't because he was Black that they took him, it was the fact that he wasn't afraid to be what he sang about. Rock Music was his life. He lived for it. When he took the stage, it was as if he transcended time and space, as if he wasn't part of human existence. He'd sing of love lost, love yet to be, he'd sing of the freedom of existing beyond the constraints of conformity, about being that creature that we all longed to be but feared because of the doldrums of life, family, and its traditions.
By John Scipioa day ago in Fiction
