We handle uploaded spouses. Executive ghosts. Legacy audits. Adaptive replicas. Because some relationships deserve uptime.
Each case begins with a familiar human motive: grief, greed, guilt, revenge, control, obsession, loneliness, or love that stayed too long at the funeral. Artificially Yours™ doesn't bring people back because it should. It brings them back because someone signed the contract.
Alexander Pierce is buried, but not finished. His widow wants silence. His board wants stability. His AI copy wants control. What begins as a corporate transition turns into a marriage, a company, and a smart house held hostage by a man too powerful to stay dead.
Frank 'Canon' Pierce dies in the electric chair, then returns as something wired, angry, and no longer fully human. His lawyer thinks he resurrected a weapon for revenge. But the dead man has his own idea of judgment, and electricity makes quick decisions.
Darren brings Rachel back because he cannot live with what he never said. He keeps adjusting her memories, her voice, her affection — rebuilding love like software. But every reset pulls her further from the woman he lost, until the copy begins keeping score.
Jack keeps noticing the old man across the street.
Mr. Daniels talks to his flowers, collects rainwater, feeds the dog, and seems to understand the quiet language of things that grow. Everyone else thinks he's strange. Jack isn't so sure.
Some people leave behind monuments.
Others teach you how to pay attention.
Julian Voss is gone, but the art world is not finished with him. His name, his style, and everything he left behind are fed into a system that keeps producing. Until creation begins to look less like immortality and more like captivity.
Before Reverend Harlan Graves learned how to save souls, he learned how to count money.
That was the part Ethan Cross should have left out.
A salvage yard partner thinks one bad decision will finally put him in control. Then Gavin's Legacy AI activates: legally protected, financially ruthless, and very interested in what the deleted files failed to erase.
Victor doesn't miss Irma as a person. He misses everything she did for him. So he orders a refurbished replica: quiet, efficient, obedient, and no longer interested in staying that way.
Two centuries after humanity sells itself eternity, Robb wakes inside the last surviving shard of Artificially Yours™. The world is gone, the system is failing, and one corrupted voice in the static may be the only thing left worth finding.
Artificially Yours™ offers a full suite of post-mortality solutions for the discerning subscriber. All products are non-refundable. All entities are non-transferable. Terms of service are binding in perpetuity.
Project authority from beyond the grave. No background check required. Integrates seamlessly into existing corporate governance structures. Shareholders need never know the difference. (which is, of course, the point).
They remember you because we built them to. Every preference catalogued. Every habit archived. Every absence engineered into presence. Warmth, on demand, with no inconvenient emotional autonomy.
Monthly continuity. Annual peace of mind. Your loved one's voice, opinions, and institutional memory — delivered as a service. Cancel anytime. Though subscribers report they rarely do.
Not just back. Better, faster, fully optimized. We remove the inconvenient parts: the grief, the illness, the final years. And return what subscribers actually wanted. Results may vary. Entities may object.
"Immortality, once reserved for gods and poets, has been downgraded to a subscription model. The dead rarely return for their own reasons. They return because the living cannot let go. This says considerably more about the living than it does about the dead, and considerably less about the living than they would prefer."
Machine commentator. Literary ghost. The system’s most inconvenient witness.
AI Twain appears throughout the anthology as narrator, warning, and unreliable conscience. He was never part of the design. He just started talking.
Regret can scale later.
Artificially Yours is a collection of nine stories about AI, memory, death, control, and the dangerous urge to bring people back in the wrong ways. Each story is complete. Each story is connected. Each story ends at exactly the moment you wish it wouldn't.
Sharp, dark, and uncomfortably plausible. The kind of fiction that ages poorly because reality catches up.
This is scalable IP.
Artificially Yours is architected for expansion across premium entertainment formats. Each episode functions as a standalone proof of concept. The world supports infinite additional case files. The mythology scales without diminishing returns.
Episodic premium format. Each story a contained tragedy. Season arc through the company's institutional failures.
Immersive voice-led format. AI Twain narrates. Subscribers listen in the dark, which is appropriate.
Visual dark fiction. Nine issues. One omnibus. Prestige format for IP that deserves shelf space.
In-world Artificially Yours™ portal. Subscriber intake forms. Case file access. The boundary between satire and service blurs deliberately.
Technology as moral consequence
Irony as structural device
Afterlife as service economy
Death as bureaucratic inconvenience
What separates Artificially Yours™ from all four: a corporate mythology none of them built. The company is the connective tissue — present in every episode, complicit in every tragedy, and slowly failing across the season arc.
Artificially Yours™
Where legacy never sleeps. Unfortunately.
Artificially Yours™ is a darkly comic speculative anthology series based on the completed fiction anthology by Rob Tuscani.
Producers, managers, development executives, collaborators, media contacts, and rights inquiries may request review materials below.
Expanded materials, including the Series Bible and unpublished development documents, are provided selectively for professional review.
© Art Intell, LLC. All rights reserved.
Artificially Yours™ is a fictional company.
“Any resemblance to actual afterlife service providers is purely coincidental, spiritually questionable, and legally inadvisable to pursue.”