Bearing the symbol of the fasces, the Romulus was introduced as an AI controlled lictor. Lauded as a solution to lictor corruption and resultedly an end to magistrates being assassinated by their own bodyguards, Romulus models were manufactred in droves.
Catastrophic accidents led to a return to wet-ware plebian lictors, who often now find themselves defending against assaults by decommissioned Romuluses directed by competitive parties who also hold imperium.

A group of desperate bandits wring what little worth they can from the surivivors that spot the dust-blasted wastes along the Urals. They descend from higher ground, beating scavenged drums and taking cover in the shadow of their bullet-spewing saintly idol: the Sequester. Completely silent but cooperative in the raids, the Sequester only takes regular infusions of water and canned food in exchange for its presence; something that has effectively turned the bandit group into a incontrovertable force of nature that strips everything to the bone and leaves only human misery in its path. It is devoutly worshipped by most of the bandits as some sort of nomadic holy site; a walking bulletproof Tabernacle. Some, under the influence of drink have discussed amongst themselves their theories on its nature as a military robot in service before the missiles fell, now aimlessly fighting according to some gameplan devised by its long gone original directors. Recently there had been a man who had joined the bandits briefly and was struck aghast when he first witnessed the Sequester. He spouted long and detailed stories about what the robot actually was, that the Sequester was a NATO QAPS unit, or Quadruple Amputee Power Suit, not a robot, and he desperately ran his hands over it looking for some access panel. He stammered that it appeared to be running autonomously, keeping its pilot cut off from the outside world, but still taking in food and water to keep him alive. His heretical calls for help in "kracking open the damned thing to save the poor bastard inside" were completely rejected, and the more pious bandits hastily had him broken on a wheel and left for dead.

Built by the Royal Family as a grandiose military deterrent, the Dajjal towered above the ground; sealed from any future interference, autonomous and powered indefinitely by its fusion power plants. Initially this building sized cipher was stationed immobile in the capital, funded, maintained, and hailed by a public relations firm bankrolled by an untraceable line that did not appear to lead back to the state. At a particularly high point of global unrest the Dajjal suddenly slinked into action; leveling the capital in which it resided. The nation's other strategic robots were quickly torn asunder by the Dajjal on its obtusely apparent objective of leaving the country, where it commenced on a campaign targeting national capitals one after the other. No emergency plans proved effective, and none of the extreme options ranging from nuclear arms to the prize strategic robots of the world's superpower could halt its progression. Rapid intelligence gathering discovered that anything relating to the production of the Dajjal were completely falsified down to the last detail. The Royal Family, now completely unnaccounted for, and possibly deceased in the destruction of the capital, are the only known link that may be able to shed light on this global terror that seemed to come into this world from nowhere and was now engaged in some terrifyingly unknowable campaign.

Ancient alien robots left behind to administer and guard abandoned cities. Faces reform to approximately mimic the appearance of whatever species it interacts with

Ancient alien robots left behind to administer and guard abandoned cities. Faces reform to approximately mimic the appearance of whatever species it interacts with.

Shaped from proteins, this nanobot travels through human bodies performing delicate surgery, or perhaps clandestinely delivering minute payloads of deadly poison. Nanobot is something of a misnomer, the Cherubim is actually only microscopic in size, but can work on a subatomic scale. Wholly organic, the Cherubim can actually self-destruct and be absorbed by the system it dwells in, leaving no currently detectable trace

An exhaustive overhaul of the Second Soviet space program’s astronaut buddy system. Mounted with independent and solar power sources, and equipped with dual Gauss guns, the Orbital Delegate now circles the earth shooting down any satellites that contravene the GMSSR’s sanctions and treaties

The second model in a series of combat robots intended for MOUT deployment (Mobile Operations in Urban Terrain). The Mk2 is built primarily with plastics (highly resilient, flexible, and light weight) and reactive ceramic armour. Quick and agile, the Mk2s utilise speed and surprise in guerilla warfare, and are effective against both soft and hard targets. The Mk2 has performed admirably in field use, and suffers only from restraint issues; incidences of friendly fire in which whole detachments of allied infantry have been wiped out are commonplace. Studies have shown that a female appearance significantly deters return fire from human combatants, and this empathic delay adds precious seconds for the Mk2 to close in on its target. International weapons trade of the Mk2 is steadily climbing, despite high manufacturing costs, and expensive maintenance

In an age where nuclear, biological, and chemical warheads are primarily delivered by submarines, anti-sub roles are numerous and highly developed. These robots are too small to detect with any passive systems on submarines, and can silently approach the nuclear leviathans to drill explosive charges into the hull. Modified sub-hunters have even been used by asian and south american pirates to board and assault tankers and merchant ships