Novels by The Joker

The walk to the park was tense for Michael but apparently fascinating for Ava. She took in everything with an almost childlike curiosity, causing her to earn several awkward looks from passers-by.“Everything is so beautiful,” she commented as they waited at a crosswalk. “You mean you've never been outside before?” asked Michael.“I don't have any memories of such,” replied Ava. “It's possible such experiences were part of my initial testing phase, but those records may be among the classified data.”They reached the small neighborhood park and Michael guided Ava to a secluded spot where they could observe without being too obvious.“So what are you picking up right now?” he asked her. “What are your sensors telling you?”Ava’s eyes scanned the area. “I am detecting several human heartbeats within a thirty-meter radius. Air quality is suboptimal, with the pollutant levels exceeding recommended safety standards by approximately 22%. The soil pH in this area indicates high nitrogen con

Michael woke to the sweet smell of coffee. For one moment, he thought he was back at the coffee shop with Hillary. Then he remembered where he was and groaned.‘Also,’ he thought to himself. ’Why am I thinking about Hillary so early in the morning?’He bolted upright. Across the room, Ava stood by his kitchenette. She was pouring water into his coffee maker.”Good morning, Mr. Sullivan,” she said without turning around. “I hope you don't mind. I assumed you'd need some coffee after yesterday's events so I made you some.”Michael stared at her. In the morning light streaming through his window, she looked even more lifelike. “How... how did you know exactly how I like to make my coffee?” he asked.“Coffee residue in your mug, coffee grounds in your trash, the timer setting on your coffee maker.” She gestured to each item as she listed it. “Simple deduction.”Michael swung his legs off the futon and rubbed his face. “So yesterday wasn't some weird dream.”“No, it was not.” Ava turned to

Michael stumbled backward. “How do you know my name?” he demanded, heart racing. “What the hell are you?”Ava tilted her head slightly. “I have been programmed with your biometric data. Your voice pattern, facial structure, and genetic signature match my primary user profile.”“That's not—” Michael took another step back. “Frank put you up to this, didn't he? Is there a camera in there? Some kind of sick joke?”“I do not understand the question. There are multiple cameras within my optical systems, but they are for environmental analysis, not for recording sick jokes.”Michael ran his hands through his hair, struggling to process what was happening. The android's movements were unnervingly human-like. It was nothing like the jerky motions of robots he'd seen in videos. “This can't be real,” he muttered.“I assure you, I am quite real,” Ava replied. “Though I am currently operating in power conservation mode. My core systems are running at 48% capacity.”Michael circled her cautiousl

The newspaper distribution center reeked of ink and stale cigarettes. Under the faint fluorescent lights, Michael sorted his bundles as fast as he could. “Sullivan!” barked his supervisor. “You missed the Westridge apartments yesterday. Three complaints.” “Sorry, Tom. Won’t happen again,” Michael muttered with a sigh. “It better not. One more screwup and someone else gets your job.” Michael gave a tight nod, biting back the response lodged in his throat. The job barely paid his rent but it was all he had left. Two hours later, he'd finished his deliveries so he ducked into the coffee shop. It wasn't his shift yet but he just needed a place to hide for a while. The bell above the door jingled, and the familiar scent of roasted beans hit him like a balm. “The usual?” Mara called from behind the counter. Her graying ponytail and friendly eyes hadn’t changed since he last saw her. She'd been on leave for a few months. Seeing her again made Michael's heart warm. “Please,” he said.

The taxi rumbled through the quiet streets of the city's eastern district. By now they were far from the perfect lawns and huge gates of the Medici estate. As Michael stared out the window, he couldn't help thinking that his neighborhood seemed so grey and normal in comparison. The wooden box justled around in the booth behind him.“You need help with that thing?” the Chauffeur asked as they pulled up to Michael's apartment building.“I've got it,” Michael muttered as he reached for his wallet. The fare took nearly half of what remained in his account. Worth it to escape that mansion, he told himself.He hauled the box up four flights of stairs. By the time he reached his door, his arms were burning from weight and strain. After fumbling with the key for several minutes, he shouldered his way into the cramped studio apartment.He flicked on the lights, revealing his poor living space: a futon that doubled as a couch, a kitchenette with mismatched dishes, and a small desk cluttered wi

The crowd parted like the Red Sea as Frank Medici made his way to a chair that had been positioned at the head of the room. He lowered himself into it carefully. His nurse moved to help him but he waved her away.“A few of you already know why we’re gathered,” Frank began. “The doctors have given me seven months to live. I could perhaps make it to a year with aggressive treatment but that's not guaranteed.”Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Michael watched the siblings’ reactions: Victoria’s face a perfect mask of concern, Phillip already straightening as if preparing for something, the twins exchanging surprised glances, Maxwell looking bored, and Lizzy gone completely still.Octavian, beside Michael, simply sighed. “So it’s true,” he murmured.“Before I leave this world,” Frank continued, “I must ensure the Medici legacy continues in capable hands. Not just our business interests, but our history, our influence, our vision for the future.”He gestured to his secretary, who wheeled