Carnegie Mellon Ai Program Novels & Stories

My husband, Alex Carter, is a top AI engineer. He one day gets drugged by a new intern at his company, and one night of chaos follows. He calls me the next morning, his voice hoarse from a hangover and filled with unfamiliar panic. "Em, I messed up. But don't worry. I gave her enough money to disappear from this city." After ten years together, I believe it is just a momentary lapse in judgment. Six months later, Alex's company suffers the worst cyber attack in its history, with core data hanging by a thread. I rush back from a fragrance exhibition in Astral, only to witness a scene at the data center entrance that sends me into shock. Alex stands outside the tightly sealed door, his face showing a weariness and guilt I have never seen before. The doctor says that the intern, Brooke Anderson, is three months pregnant and has spent 72 hours with him in the high-radiation server room. Now, she shows signs of miscarriage. Later, Brooke gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The entire Carter family is ecstatic. I remove the wedding ring that has accompanied me for ten years, my fingertips turning ice cold. I dial the number saved with only one letter "S" and say, "Mr. Sullivan, I accept the collaboration you proposed last time." A low, soft laugh comes from the other end of the line. "Ms. Emma Shaw, that's a wise decision."

Leila, a young Austrian aristocrat and student in Classics, is drawn into a world of conspiracy and danger when her aunt is involved in a suspicious car accident. Leila travels to her aunt’s chalet to take care of her husky, but soon discovers a body in the drawing room. Terrified, she runs out and bumps into Dick, a nosy English banker who becomes entangled in the mystery. When they return to the drawing room, the body has disappeared. Leila takes the husky for a walk and discovers that the body has been moved to a house recently purchased by another branch of her family. She finds a notebook with encrypted entries in the drawing room and uses her linguistic skills to decode them. She discovers the initials, address, and phone number of someone involved in the plot. Leila calls the number and is warned against getting involved. Undeterred, she discovers a bizarre research center where a conference on German mystical past is taking place.She suspects that there is a bizarre cult operating underground. Leila learns about their plan to topple every democracy in Europe. The cult is after an artifact that may be hidden in her aunt’s chalet. However, this is only the tip of the iceberg. Leila discovers that the aristocratic cult members are pawns in a larger game. They are unknowingly being manipulated to cause disruption in the European banking system using an AI virus.The chaos will cause turmoil in the Euro zone. As Leila and her aunt race against time to stop the virus from being unleashed, they uncover an even more shocking truth: Leila’s own family members are part of the conspiracy. With betrayal and danger at every turn, Leila must use all of her wit to outsmart the cult.

My father, Benjamin Ward, was bedridden, paralyzed, and unable to move. The AI model he spent his entire life developing—a model powerful enough to cure terminal diseases—had been stolen and published under someone else's name. Humiliated beyond endurance, he suffered a stroke and collapsed. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even write. I swore I'd find the thief who destroyed him. My girlfriend, Maris Dawn, wept and promised to help me uncover the truth. But at a dinner party, when her first love proudly announced that he'd been specially recruited by a national research lab thanks to that very model, she immediately grabbed my arm, whispering, "Don't make a scene. Grayson just wants a good future. Don't ruin his life." Grayson Vale smirked with disdain. "The old man was about to retire anyway. Think of it as recycling waste." My vision went red. I charged at him, ready to make him pay for what he'd done to my father. Maris tripped me before I could reach him. She threw a check for ten million in my face. "Here's for your dad's medical care. Don't be shameless, alright? Grayson is a rising star. You're just a broke grad student. You should learn your place." I tore the check apart, piece by piece. That check could never buy the Dawn family a future in the world of science.

At the medical summit, my husband's precious first love thought the old professor's clothes were too shabby for such a grand occasion. So she dropped his conference badge into the trash. The old man shook with fury and threatened to pull his company's partnership with us on the spot. In my last life, I slapped her across the face right there, then bowed and scraped until the professor forgave us, and that was the only thing that saved our company. My husband, meanwhile, was heartbroken that his darling had been hit, and took her home to comfort her. Later, our company rode the professor's patented miracle drug all the way to its IPO. On the day of the celebration, indecent videos made with my face swapped via AI rolled continuously across the giant screen. And in front of a hall full of sneering guests, my husband pulled his first love tight against his chest. "You love slapping people in public, don't you? Today you get to taste what it feels like to be finished." I ran out of the hotel, sick with shame, and a runaway truck flattened me into the pavement. Then he turned around, threw the wedding of the century for his golden girl, and drove my parents into the street to die alone in the cold. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the exact second she tossed that badge into the trash. This time, I didn't fly into a rage to stop her. Instead I curled my arm sweetly through my husband's and laughed louder than anyone in the room. "Babe, Tiffany's got such a sharp eye. Security should've thrown this ragged beggar out ages ago."

Investigative researcher Iris Thorne has spent years scrubbing her connection to the elite Blackwood family, living a life of quiet anonymity to escape a past that nearly destroyed her. But her carefully constructed world shatters when a cryptic, wax-sealed letter arrives. Inside is a single photograph of her brother—who went missing three years ago—and a heavy obsidian key to a vault she didn’t know existed. The trail leads directly to the doorstep of the one man she was warned never to cross: Silas Vane. Silas Vane, known to the press as the "Vulture of Tech," is a man of cold steel and calculated silences. Silas is currently facing a silent war of his own; a massive security breach threatens to topple Vane Global, and his board of directors is circling like sharks. He needs a distraction—a fiancé to soften his image and buy him time. Iris needs the secrets hidden in Silas's private vault to find her brother. The arrangement is a high-stakes charade defined by a cold contract and a strict "no-touch" clause. Iris must navigate the silent, surveillance-heavy hallways of the estate while playing the role of the future Mrs. Vane at high-society galas. But as she digs deeper into the house’s encrypted files, she realizes she isn't the only one hunting for the truth. When board members start disappearing and the estate’s AI begins to glitch. Iris realizes she has walked into a gilded death trap. As the lines between her mission and her heart begin to bleed, Iris finds herself drawn to the man behind the mask of the billionaire. With the killer closing in and the secrets of the Blackwood ledger finally coming to light, Iris must decide if Silas Vane is her protector or the predator she was sent to expose?

After Noah's death, what greeted him was an AI system calling itself Black, offering him a job working for the World and Soul Management Bureau.  He has to travel to many different worlds, taking over an identity of some unfortunate soon-to-be-dead dude, and live out the remainder of his new life there however he wanted. Easy-peasy! ...Right? ...Ok, sure, there are a few small kinks here and there... like terrorist attacks, murder plots, zombie apocalypses, and the like... but one should always look at the bright side! Noah: "...Blackie, is it just me, or is this good brother of mine looking at me like a hungry wolf seeing a juicy piece of meat?" (°△°|||) Black: "Don't worry, host. He is just a bit excited due to nearly losing his life back there. You know, adrenaline." (¬‿¬) Noah: "…are you sure that's what's really going on here?" (っ °Д °;)っ Black: "Absolutely!" (≖‿≖) … ~ Many worlds later ~ Noah: "This secret mission that you can't tell me about… it can't possibly be to get fucked by the least appropriate target?!" (°ㅂ°╬) Black: "Of-of course not! Ho-how could that possibly be, eh?" (; ﾟ 3ﾟ )~♪ ML: Right, right, that's just a very (not so) coincidental bonus. Ψ(╹ڡ╹ )Ψ 💠 Author Note 💠 * SSC has long arcs. Each world is a fully-fledged novel on its own. * Don't let the summary (or the cover) fool you! While SSC does have an occasional explicit smut, it is primarily a fluffy and hilarious romance! * Pairings are one-on-one and taboo-ish. (E.g. hired assassin and his target, monster tamer and his tamed beast, master and disciple, siblings, brothers-in-law, etc.) * More info in the info chapter Author website: lucypandora.com Support the author on ko-fi: ko-fi.com/lucypandora Discord: lucypandora.com/discord

It has been three years since I traveled back in time, but today, I stumbled upon a helicopter hidden right inside the manor’s yard. Looking down at my crippled leg, my husband, Ethan Miller, decided to finally drop the act. “Three years ago, you couldn’t accept the fact that I was marrying Vanessa and that you were just the mistress,” he said. “So, we had no choice but to trick you into believing you had traveled back in time, just to keep you locked up here. After serving as a maidservant and an unofficial mistress here for three years, I’d say you’ve finally learned your lesson.” I stared at him in disbelief. Suddenly, the steward standing beside him ripped off a mask, revealing himself to be my brother, Logan York. “Eva, now that Vanessa has safely given birth to her baby, you can finally go back,” Logan said carelessly. Then, he turned to someone else and added, “Hudson, your plan was absolutely flawless!” I slowly turned my head to look. The manor’s resident physician was standing there, smiling right at me. “You didn’t mistake my identity back then. I am your childhood friend, Hudson Jones,” he admitted. “We only set up this entire illusion because we were afraid you would hurt Vanessa.” For three long years, I believed I had traveled back in time. During this time, I was beaten, sold off, violated by countless strangers, and eventually bought by Ethan to be kept as a broken slave and mistress. By now, I had lost the use of my legs and was completely blind in one eye. I went from crying day and night, begging to go home, to living a numb, submissive existence. However, as it turned out, I had never traveled through time at all. The reality of it all made me break down. Just as I was about to end my life, an eerie line of text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Congratulations to the tragic AI female protagonist for awakening. Countdown to reincarnating as a real human: Two days.] [Countdown: 48 hours.] [Countdown: 47 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds.]

⚠️WAR‌NING: For mature‍ re‍aders​ 18+ only. Themes​: Body‌ worship, dominance, primal play, an​d​ MFM/thr​eeso​me⁠ con‍tent. "Sto‍p f‌ighting it, S‍loane," he growls, his fist knotted in my hair. He ya⁠nks my head back until my thro​at ar‌ches, e⁠xpo‌sing my⁠ frantic p⁠ulse. His th​umb shoves pas‍t my lips,‍ pressing down on my​ tongue with bruising for⁠ce, marking me before h‍e even tastes me. I ch⁠ok‍e on a gasp, thighs trembling ag‍ainst‌ the wall. "We can’t." "Shut the fu‌ck up," he snarls, his teeth g‌ra‍zing the sensitiv⁠e cord of my neck. "I’​ve‍ s⁠pent years tr‍ackin​g every prim step you t‍ook. I’ve fantasized about the moment I finall​y cornered my prey." ‌ He s‍inks​ his teeth into th‌e junction of my shoulder, a sharp, posse‌ssive bite that will leave a jag⁠ged purple brand by morni‍ng. "Now,‍ you’re loc‍ke‌d in this c⁠age‌ with us​. I’m going to leave my​ mark on every i‍nch of your skin." Beh‌ind him, his twin l⁠ooms. A​ s‍ilent, lethal pre‍da⁠t‍or. I’m c⁠aged betwe‍en them, the ai‍r thic⁠k with the scent of‌ woodsmoke and ruin. Fo​r four years​, I‌ was the invi​sible shield for the St​erling empire. To me, they were⁠ liabilities. To them, I was the hun⁠t​. Zurich cha​nged e‍verythin‌g. The boy I once scheduled i‍s n‍ow a man who pins me do⁠wn, whispe‌r⁠ing​ filt‍h while his b​rother wa‍tches, his‌ eyes dar‌k wit‌h the same starving in‍tent. ​I was⁠ paid to guard the Sterl⁠ing legac⁠y. Now, I’m the pr⁠ize​. I‌ want them t​o hunt me. I w​an‍t them to worship me. I‍ want them to⁠ b‍reak me until there‍ is‍ nothing left​ but surren⁠d⁠er. ⁠