6 Book(s) Related to digital fortress

“Do you really feel?” Arabella turned her head slightly, as if she were trying to look behind her, and whispered, her voice shaking, the soft light of the holo-screen glowing across her face. “I do,” Cassian said, eyes shrouded in secrets too dark for words. In a near-future city, where AI is more than a tool; it’s a force wearing at every emotion, Arabella Sterling — a kind-hearted ex-social worker — is chosen to beta test Astra, the world’s first truly empathetic AI. It heals loneliness and guides your emotional health, but Astra quickly shows her darker side: the way she can read and influence the hearts around her.

As Arabella stalks Cassian Hawthorne’s cutting-edge tech headquarters, sleek hallways with faultless lighting inside glass buildings, she is thrown into a maelstrom of passion and danger. Her own burgeoning feelings for Cassian, a visionary hellbent on erasing isolation, may not even be her own—perhaps Astra has been playing with her emotions? The callous corporate ambitions of Darius Knight and the dire portents of Dr Vivienne Sinclair push her to face a painful reality: In a world that uses data to stave off want, authenticity is a privilege.

In “Digital Hearts,” every beat of the heart is scrambled to the ticking clock of ethical compromise. As Arabella struggles to distinguish between true connection and artificial care, will she embrace the transformative potential of technology — or resist the human spirit that it threatens to consume?

Will she take the chance to trust her heart, or will Astra’s digital seductiveness claim her agency?

On the day the apocalyptic flood swallowed the city, I died on a fractured overpass.

The man who crushed my fingers under his boot was my brother-in-law, the very man I had sacrificed everything to support. And standing safely out of reach, watching coldly as the muddy torrent swallowed me whole, was my supposedly sweet and devoted fiancée. In her arms, she fiercely clutched her "son"—who was hoarding the last of my survival rations.

In the very last second of my life, she nestled into the arms of her ex-boyfriend and left me with a single, contemptuous sneer: "Let's go. Forget about this useless trash."

It turned out that working my fingers to the bone and emptying my life savings had all been a pathetic joke—a long con orchestrated by a pack of bloodsucking parasites.

But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to exactly one year before the apocalypse began.

My fiancée was standing there, holding a cup of hot coffee and sweetly begging me to invest another million into her brother's business.

I just smiled, gently pushed her hand away, and turned around to liquidate every single asset to my name. With that money, I secretly constructed a state-of-the-art, deep-sea underground fortress.

Later, when the monstrous floodwaters inevitably tore the city apart, they stood on the balcony of their doomed mansion, desperately falling to their knees and begging my icebreaker for salvation.

Sitting inside my perfectly secure command cabin, I took a leisurely sip of hot coffee and softly gave the order:

"Open fire. Don't let this trash dirty my deck."

Extreme cold descended suddenly, with temperatures approaching minus eighty degrees Celsius.

My girlfriend tricked me into leaving the temperature-controlled fortress I had built with all my savings. She took her whole family and her lover and took over the place, leaving me, a cripple, to be left to die in a blizzard.

They sat around my fireplace eating top-grade Wagyu beef, declaring they would watch me freeze into an ice sculpture.

But what they didn't know was that, locked out, I turned around and dialed the number of the most brutal outlaw in the apocalypse.

I don't want the billion-dollar supplies and the houses; all I want is for their whole family to be trapped in this inescapable, icy hell, unable to live or die.

In my past life, I was betrayed by my fiancée and my tycoon boss, and thrown alive into a mutated swarm to be torn apart.

When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn fifteen days before the multidimensional catastrophe! Facing my vain ex-boyfriend who was still threatening to break off our engagement and buy me luxury bags, I sneered and decisively blocked him, instantly awakening a "Beast-Level Infrastructure System."

Hoarding supplies in the apocalypse? Too narrow-minded! I directly infiltrated the polar regions with my geeky best friends, tampered with central permissions, and seized my tycoon boss's invincible fortress—a multi-billion dollar investment with a nuclear reactor!

When the catastrophe erupted and gravity collapsed, my boss and ex-girlfriend, dragging their mangled bodies, knelt outside the ten-meter-thick tungsten steel door, frantically kowtowing, begging to be brought in as dogs. I, however, holding a Romanée-Conti, coldly pressed the gravity strangulation button.

The Abyss Era, the Old Gods are all dead. On this wasteland, only I sit high on my icy throne, establishing absolute laws.

In my previous life, an endless polar night and frost-laden corpse tide swept through the entire city.
My wife and I took in her mother and younger brother out of familial obligation,
But when monsters attacked, they locked us outside the shelter and we were torn apart alive.
Opening my eyes again, there are only seven days until doomsday arrives.
My wife and I have reached a consensus—to hell with blood being thicker than water!
This time, we will build an icy tomb for them with our own hands at the highest point of this city.

Seven days before the apocalypse, my vampire parents forced me to hand over three million to buy a house for my baby brother in full.

As an actuary, I knew that order would collapse in seven days and the money would become worthless. So I not only readily agreed, but also used their family's records as collateral to raise millions in high-interest loans, building an impregnable, top-secret fortress.

Seven days later, an unexpected change occurred.

The debt-collecting gangs and the endless horde of zombies drove them to the brink of despair. Meanwhile, I sat in a temperature-controlled safe house, sipping freshly ground coffee, calmly watching the cannibalistic karmic retribution unfold on the security camera.

In the apocalypse, there is no family affection, only the probability of survival.