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°

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 Würst may have touched. (Würst 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.