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🤖 writter: GPT-3

🤖 voices: Murf AI

🤖 illustrations:  midjourney

SFX: pixabay

Artificial Intelligence powered this video

Listen the podcast version of this episode in: https://anchor.fm/onceuponanai

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The four warriors stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the enemy army that awaited them. They had fought so many battles together, and this would be their final one.

See the episode with illustration: https://youtu.be/IVx0CuNLz_0

see the episode with illustrations: https://youtu.be/eGUBWWKeDxU

🔥 See this episode with illustrations in Youtube: https://youtu.be/l4eUUrrhIHw

🤖 writter: AI Dungeon 

🤖 voices: Murf AI 

🤖 illustrations:  

midjourney SFX: pixabay

Artificial Intelligence powered this video

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the day you were born your parents take you to church and you pray to a god that can exist because the world is equal to itself and so is mankind. You are baptized and you are taught to lie, steal and kill. 

You pray to your god every day and you are a good little girl so that you can follow orders. 

Then when you are 5 years old they send you to school  and they teach you the religion of the state,  the religion of the church and   they teach you the history of how mankind evolved from monkeys and apes.

🤖 writter: AI Dungeon 

🤖 voices: Murf AI 

🤖 illustrations:  midjourney 

SFX: pixabay  

Artificial Intelligence powered this video  

View the episode: https://youtu.be/llZNMsiJRVQ

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 "we have arrived"   you see through the car window the entrance to a metal bunker inside a sand dune   "Jesus"   "What did you expect? The dead sea? a great flood?"   "That's not funny"   What am I supposed to do now?"   "First of all, you should come with me to my laboratory"

🤖 writter: AI Dungeon 

🤖 voices: Murf AI 

🤖 illustrations:  midjourney 

SFX: pixabay  

Artificial Intelligence powered this video  

view the episode in: https://youtu.be/hFhyziJC9AM

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"Come in"  The door opens and you see a 17-year-old with a mix of facial features as your father and yours grandmother. He looks at you with his emerald. He smiles with a twisted smile.  "Hi mum, let's go"  You get into a car and you go out of your house. You feel like you are going to throw up. The car drives for a long time.  You have a look out the window and see that you are driving through the middle of a desert. You start to cry

🤖 writter: AI Dungeon 

🤖 voices: Murf AI 

🤖 illustrations:  midjourney 

SFX: pixabay  

See the episode with illustrations: https://youtu.be/1I5Q2djqiCg

Artificial Intelligence powered this video

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It is 2022 and the coronavirus crisis is beginning to disappear thanks to vaccines. The world remains equal to itself and so does mankind. That's good, you are going to embody one of them.   You are Bellanova, the Prime Minister of the USA. You are a woman of modest means born in New York City and grew up there and in your studies at university. You soon become involved in politics during your time at university and became someone people looked up to. 20 years ago you became a member of a popular political party and eventually rose to power as leader of the party. You became Prime Minister after your party won elections.   The US has become the most powerful country in the world after the economic crisis and global warming forced other countries to become increasingly impoverished.  You are going to decide the fate of the world. You are in your study, a beautiful and sunny day outside. You can almost feel the warmth of the sun. the telephone rings and you pick it up.

writter: Edgar Alan Poe (Human) 

voices: Murf AI 

illustrations:  midjourney   

Artificial Intelligence powered this video  

Access to the video with illustrations: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8IiPt56TvQ

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Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—     While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—             Only this and nothing more.”      Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.     Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow     From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore— For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—             Nameless here for evermore.