I've been working this novel called "Dunamis 2050", it's far from done, but I already have a plot. It might be a little amateur, so please help me in fixing it.
Dunamis Webpage
Genre: Sci-fi, Action, Comedy
Book Back
The date is May 4, 2050. A giant meteor is headed towards Washington D.C. , corruption and terrorism roam in every corner of the United States. Innocent citizens strive for justice and good; the fate of America is left in the hands of one man...the president himself. But the president can't save the country on his own, he needs a ride. Dunamis, a secret military project and combat mechanism, was built to protect the president, and America. Who could be behind this evil plot? Could it be a terrorist, or a politician?
Index
Chapter 1 - Breakfast
Breakfast
...It’s dark, pitch black. I hear noise, so much of it that I doubt that I could make it any louder. Wait, I see light. Who’s there? Who are you? Ah, my sight’s back.
“Mister President, thank heavens you’re awake!” It was a young and gorgeous looking woman sitting by the chair next to my bed. “I brewed some black coffee for you sir, no creamer added.” She told me as if I like my coffee that way.
“Where are we? Who are you? More importantly, who am I?” I said in confusion while looking around the extravagantly decorated room.
“It’s alright sir, you can stop pretending now.” She stuttered.
“Pretending?”
“ANA, give him a bio-scan.”
“Affirmative. Commencing bio-scan...” A hologram was feeling through my entire body, and my privacy was being violated.
“Bio-scan completed, Retrograde Amnesia confirmed.”
“Retrograde Amnesia!?” The woman said in a frustrated manner. I was a little startled myself. “Oh well, I guess I’ll have to brighten things up for you sir. I’m Julie, your secretary.”
“I have a secretary?” I replied in amazement.
“Yes you do.”
“You addressed me as Mister President a little while back, am I the president of a huge soda company of some sort?”
“Something like that." She smiled. "This here is ANA, ANA means Alpha Network AI, and she’s the first AI to actually comprehend human speech and use it to communicate with us.”
“That was very informative Ms. Rockwood, though it was flattering just as mu-”
“Enough with the formalities, who am I really? I need answers.” I interrupted ANA.
“Right this way, sir.” Julie replied with haste as she walked out the automated sliding door.
We began to walk on a red carpet which seemed to stretch out to both ends of the hallway. I followed her into a gallery of paintings and photographs of former presidents of the US.
“You, are none other than Alexander google, president of the United States of America.” Julie said with such diction.
My jaw dropped down, and my heart began to race. “Seriously?”
“I’m positive. The evidence is right there.” Julie said as she pointed her finger at the end of the gallery.
I walked closer to that direction and saw my face embossed into a marble wall and it was captioned, “Alexander google (July 4, 2015- May 4, 2050), the man who gave his heart to America.” I began to wonder why a date of death was given. “What’s up with this? July 4, 2015, to May 4, 2050?”
Julie folded out a stick and began to lecture in front of a holographic power point.
“Approximately thirty days ago, Vincent Clark, the vice president, pushed a meteor having a diameter of fifty meters into orbit using one of our meteor defense pods, and it was headed straight for Washington D.C.”
“What was his motive?” I asked inquisitively.
“Vincent wanted to get rid of you so that he would climb up the ladder and become president. He knew that you had patriotic blood and that you would save America, even if you had to give your life and Dunamis for it.”
“Dunamis?” I asked as she flashed images of a robot covered in lustrous chrome plating; the kind that you would see in a sci-fi holo-movie.
“Dunamis is a secret military combat mechanism built not only for your protection, but for America’s as well. It’s armed with everything, from Gatling guns, to rocket launchers, to coffee brewers."
“Wow, that is everything.”
“However, it would be nothing without Ambrosia.”
“Ambrosia?”
“The aliens from Roswell left chunks of rock behind. They were a very potent source of energy. Since they were powerful enough to supply Dunamis, we decided to call the rocks Ambrosia. By channeling all of the Ambrosia’s power into one powerful blow, you were able to destroy the meteor at the cost of Dunamis, and what do you know, you’re alive!”
“Nothing, not even a giant meteor could stop the president of the United States, except when he’s hungry. Could I get some breakfast?”
“Mister President, the terrorists are attacking! Dunamis is only forty percent functional; it would be too risky to use. What should we do?” ANA worried.
“Awww man, just when I got hungry.” I whined. “Forty should be enough.”
“Enough? I’m thinking too much.” Julie told me as she placed her hand into a slot behind my painting. She was being scanned just like ANA scanned me; I couldn’t seem to understand how she could bear with it. “Behold, Dunamis!” She said in grandeur as the backdoor to the docking bay lifted.
My jaw dropped even wider than it did when I found out that I was president of America. It looked exactly like the robot from the power point; rocket launchers and Gatling guns were sticking out from all around it, even better; I owned it.
“Mister President, your guests are waiting for you.” Julie told me while looking at a hologram showing the terrorists tearing through the gates of the White House.
“Then I better give them a warm welcome!” I hopped into Dunamis’ cockpit. It was tight, as if it were built to fit my measurements. I pulled a switch which my instinct drove me to reach out for.
“Activating rear thrusters…” ANA announced as Dunamis began to speed up.
The docking bay's main entrance opened wide, and the indicator on the wall changed from red to green; it was my go signal.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the White House!” I uttered as I made a heavy landing on top of the platform in front of the White House. Before I knew it, I was using Dunamis as if I had been born with it. I began bashing through the myriad of terrorist tanks, mechs, and artillery. Though it was strange how the terrorists had American flags imprinted onto their vehicles.
“Let’s give our guests a nice appetizer!” I yelled as I launched a cluster of missiles from Dunmis’ chest at one of the mechs, picking the scraps up and tossing them at another mech.
“Here comes the main course!” I bombarded them with even more missiles hidden within Dunamis’ legs and shoulders from a high altitude.
“Don’t forget the salt and pepper!” I flashed out a pair of Gatling guns to finish the job. Fatigue took over me as I began to pant and gasp for air. Dunamis’ Ambrosia levels began to drop.
“Well done Alex!” A familiar voice taunted from behind me as I turned around to face it. “Or should I say, medium rare?” It was Vincent, completely unprotected standing on the tip of the American flag pole with his arms crossed together as the morning sun rose behind him.
“Vincent! What are you doing here!?”
“Is that how you should treat your guests Alex?” He replied as the flag of America fluttered.
I was actually surprised that I recognized him even with Amnesia. “Who ever said that I invited you over?”
“No one did. I just wanted to crash your little tea party that’s all.” He said while wearing a smirk on his face. “Now that you’ve served us the main course, wouldn’t you want to stick around for some dessert?” Vincent said as a bulky mech about the size of Dunamis landed in front of him.
“That’s Bryan Walker’s mech Dionysus. Bryan is a member of the secret service; he seems to have sided with Vincent to overthrow you sir.” ANA informed me.
“You traitors!” I yelled as I pointed Dunamis’ finger at Vincent and Bryan.
“Take care of Alex for me Bryan; I have an appointment to attend at Mount Rushmore. Tootles!” Vincent said as he jumped backwards landing on top of a jet which left as he got on.
“Alright Mister President, how’s about we rumble, on the rocks?” Bryan chuckled in a drunken manner as he threw a giant boulder at Dunamis.
“Fine then. Let’s paaaaaaaaarrrtttyyy!” I shouted as I threw a punch after accelerating my thrusters breaking the boulder into several pieces.
“Remember Mister President, forty percent, and dropping.” ANA reminded me as Dunamis’ arm sparked.
“No problem, I’ll beat this guy with ten.” Dunamis exchanged several blows with Dionysus. I propelled backwards while firing missiles and bullets simultaneously at Dionysus as he rushed towards me.
“Cheers!” Bryan screamed as he unveiled a giant flask from within his arm and swung it at Dunamis.
“Mister President, nine percent and dropping!” ANA warned me.
“Fine then, let’s finish this party with a bang!” I flaunted a pair of railguns from Dunamis’ back and shot through Dionysus’ chest.
“No... Even if you beat me, I’m sure that the others would finish the job. We will free America from your tyranny!” Dionysus lost its balance and fell down on the floor.
“Get the plates, ‘cause you just got served! Which reminds me, can we have some real breakfast now?” I told ANA.
“Certainly Mister President.”
Dunamis Webpage
Genre: Sci-fi, Action, Comedy
Book Back
The date is May 4, 2050. A giant meteor is headed towards Washington D.C. , corruption and terrorism roam in every corner of the United States. Innocent citizens strive for justice and good; the fate of America is left in the hands of one man...the president himself. But the president can't save the country on his own, he needs a ride. Dunamis, a secret military project and combat mechanism, was built to protect the president, and America. Who could be behind this evil plot? Could it be a terrorist, or a politician?
Index
Chapter 1 - Breakfast
Breakfast
...It’s dark, pitch black. I hear noise, so much of it that I doubt that I could make it any louder. Wait, I see light. Who’s there? Who are you? Ah, my sight’s back.
“Mister President, thank heavens you’re awake!” It was a young and gorgeous looking woman sitting by the chair next to my bed. “I brewed some black coffee for you sir, no creamer added.” She told me as if I like my coffee that way.
“Where are we? Who are you? More importantly, who am I?” I said in confusion while looking around the extravagantly decorated room.
“It’s alright sir, you can stop pretending now.” She stuttered.
“Pretending?”
“ANA, give him a bio-scan.”
“Affirmative. Commencing bio-scan...” A hologram was feeling through my entire body, and my privacy was being violated.
“Bio-scan completed, Retrograde Amnesia confirmed.”
“Retrograde Amnesia!?” The woman said in a frustrated manner. I was a little startled myself. “Oh well, I guess I’ll have to brighten things up for you sir. I’m Julie, your secretary.”
“I have a secretary?” I replied in amazement.
“Yes you do.”
“You addressed me as Mister President a little while back, am I the president of a huge soda company of some sort?”
“Something like that." She smiled. "This here is ANA, ANA means Alpha Network AI, and she’s the first AI to actually comprehend human speech and use it to communicate with us.”
“That was very informative Ms. Rockwood, though it was flattering just as mu-”
“Enough with the formalities, who am I really? I need answers.” I interrupted ANA.
“Right this way, sir.” Julie replied with haste as she walked out the automated sliding door.
We began to walk on a red carpet which seemed to stretch out to both ends of the hallway. I followed her into a gallery of paintings and photographs of former presidents of the US.
“You, are none other than Alexander google, president of the United States of America.” Julie said with such diction.
My jaw dropped down, and my heart began to race. “Seriously?”
“I’m positive. The evidence is right there.” Julie said as she pointed her finger at the end of the gallery.
I walked closer to that direction and saw my face embossed into a marble wall and it was captioned, “Alexander google (July 4, 2015- May 4, 2050), the man who gave his heart to America.” I began to wonder why a date of death was given. “What’s up with this? July 4, 2015, to May 4, 2050?”
Julie folded out a stick and began to lecture in front of a holographic power point.
“Approximately thirty days ago, Vincent Clark, the vice president, pushed a meteor having a diameter of fifty meters into orbit using one of our meteor defense pods, and it was headed straight for Washington D.C.”
“What was his motive?” I asked inquisitively.
“Vincent wanted to get rid of you so that he would climb up the ladder and become president. He knew that you had patriotic blood and that you would save America, even if you had to give your life and Dunamis for it.”
“Dunamis?” I asked as she flashed images of a robot covered in lustrous chrome plating; the kind that you would see in a sci-fi holo-movie.
“Dunamis is a secret military combat mechanism built not only for your protection, but for America’s as well. It’s armed with everything, from Gatling guns, to rocket launchers, to coffee brewers."
“Wow, that is everything.”
“However, it would be nothing without Ambrosia.”
“Ambrosia?”
“The aliens from Roswell left chunks of rock behind. They were a very potent source of energy. Since they were powerful enough to supply Dunamis, we decided to call the rocks Ambrosia. By channeling all of the Ambrosia’s power into one powerful blow, you were able to destroy the meteor at the cost of Dunamis, and what do you know, you’re alive!”
“Nothing, not even a giant meteor could stop the president of the United States, except when he’s hungry. Could I get some breakfast?”
“Mister President, the terrorists are attacking! Dunamis is only forty percent functional; it would be too risky to use. What should we do?” ANA worried.
“Awww man, just when I got hungry.” I whined. “Forty should be enough.”
“Enough? I’m thinking too much.” Julie told me as she placed her hand into a slot behind my painting. She was being scanned just like ANA scanned me; I couldn’t seem to understand how she could bear with it. “Behold, Dunamis!” She said in grandeur as the backdoor to the docking bay lifted.
My jaw dropped even wider than it did when I found out that I was president of America. It looked exactly like the robot from the power point; rocket launchers and Gatling guns were sticking out from all around it, even better; I owned it.
“Mister President, your guests are waiting for you.” Julie told me while looking at a hologram showing the terrorists tearing through the gates of the White House.
“Then I better give them a warm welcome!” I hopped into Dunamis’ cockpit. It was tight, as if it were built to fit my measurements. I pulled a switch which my instinct drove me to reach out for.
“Activating rear thrusters…” ANA announced as Dunamis began to speed up.
The docking bay's main entrance opened wide, and the indicator on the wall changed from red to green; it was my go signal.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the White House!” I uttered as I made a heavy landing on top of the platform in front of the White House. Before I knew it, I was using Dunamis as if I had been born with it. I began bashing through the myriad of terrorist tanks, mechs, and artillery. Though it was strange how the terrorists had American flags imprinted onto their vehicles.
“Let’s give our guests a nice appetizer!” I yelled as I launched a cluster of missiles from Dunmis’ chest at one of the mechs, picking the scraps up and tossing them at another mech.
“Here comes the main course!” I bombarded them with even more missiles hidden within Dunamis’ legs and shoulders from a high altitude.
“Don’t forget the salt and pepper!” I flashed out a pair of Gatling guns to finish the job. Fatigue took over me as I began to pant and gasp for air. Dunamis’ Ambrosia levels began to drop.
“Well done Alex!” A familiar voice taunted from behind me as I turned around to face it. “Or should I say, medium rare?” It was Vincent, completely unprotected standing on the tip of the American flag pole with his arms crossed together as the morning sun rose behind him.
“Vincent! What are you doing here!?”
“Is that how you should treat your guests Alex?” He replied as the flag of America fluttered.
I was actually surprised that I recognized him even with Amnesia. “Who ever said that I invited you over?”
“No one did. I just wanted to crash your little tea party that’s all.” He said while wearing a smirk on his face. “Now that you’ve served us the main course, wouldn’t you want to stick around for some dessert?” Vincent said as a bulky mech about the size of Dunamis landed in front of him.
“That’s Bryan Walker’s mech Dionysus. Bryan is a member of the secret service; he seems to have sided with Vincent to overthrow you sir.” ANA informed me.
“You traitors!” I yelled as I pointed Dunamis’ finger at Vincent and Bryan.
“Take care of Alex for me Bryan; I have an appointment to attend at Mount Rushmore. Tootles!” Vincent said as he jumped backwards landing on top of a jet which left as he got on.
“Alright Mister President, how’s about we rumble, on the rocks?” Bryan chuckled in a drunken manner as he threw a giant boulder at Dunamis.
“Fine then. Let’s paaaaaaaaarrrtttyyy!” I shouted as I threw a punch after accelerating my thrusters breaking the boulder into several pieces.
“Remember Mister President, forty percent, and dropping.” ANA reminded me as Dunamis’ arm sparked.
“No problem, I’ll beat this guy with ten.” Dunamis exchanged several blows with Dionysus. I propelled backwards while firing missiles and bullets simultaneously at Dionysus as he rushed towards me.
“Cheers!” Bryan screamed as he unveiled a giant flask from within his arm and swung it at Dunamis.
“Mister President, nine percent and dropping!” ANA warned me.
“Fine then, let’s finish this party with a bang!” I flaunted a pair of railguns from Dunamis’ back and shot through Dionysus’ chest.
“No... Even if you beat me, I’m sure that the others would finish the job. We will free America from your tyranny!” Dionysus lost its balance and fell down on the floor.
“Get the plates, ‘cause you just got served! Which reminds me, can we have some real breakfast now?” I told ANA.
“Certainly Mister President.”
