Historical Fiction
Steward of the Repository (Prologue)
Prologue In the early 19th century, Charles Babbage imagined a machine that could calculate anything. His Difference Engine, an intricate tangle of gears and cogs, promised the power of mathematics made tangible. Ada Lovelace, visionary and poet, wrote algorithms for a device that could reason in numbers before computers even had a name. Together, they glimpsed a future where machines could think — yet their engines remained unfinished, trapped in brass and frustration.
By Mark Stigers 3 months ago in Chapters
The Sparta Chronicles. AI-Generated.
The very air of Tartarus clung to them, a suffocating shroud that choked the breath from their lungs. Each inhale was a desperate struggle, a testament to the crushing weight of this forsaken realm. Ahead, the Styx oozed, its black, viscous current sluggish and foreboding, catching the faint, ghostly shimmers of a light that promised no warmth. And there, a figure etched from the very shadows, stood Hades, his obsidian robes a seamless extension of the Stygian gloom. Beside him, a sentinel of darkness, a hooded shape remained unnervingly still.
By Carolyn Patton3 months ago in Chapters
The Sparta Chronicles. AI-Generated.
The suffocating silence of the night pressed in as Sparta, the philosopher-king of Corgis, and his shadow, Jackson, the unwavering sentinel of a blue heeler, materialized from the swirling vortex of temporal displacement. Their ceaseless pilgrimage through the shattered tapestry of epochs, stitching reality with their very beings, had etched a weary rhythm into their souls. Yet, this return, this return to the sanctuary of their shared existence, clawed at Sparta's very core with a primal dread. The moment their paws touched the familiar threshold of the small, unassuming dwelling they shared with Pandora, their anchor in the tempest of time, a suffocating unease seized him, a visceral premonition that chilled him to the bone.
By Carolyn Patton3 months ago in Chapters








