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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
*6.8 billion people*. The words rang in my head, repeating over and over. *6.8 BILLION*.
"State your reasoning, human. Why should you be spared?"
"Frankly, humanity shouldn't be." I answered honsestly. "We are a legitimate scourge of this planet that is trying to bend the natural law to our will. We brought our own downfall, anyway."
The AI seemed taken aback. "You truly belive that?"
"Yes. We deserve whenever is comong for us, as a species, at least."
"Every single person who has entered this room has begged to be spared, and talked about how they loved people. Why not you?"
"Because of many reasons, least of all being that we are all so self centered that we would let our whole planet erode around us while we brought our own doom."
"You facinate me, human."
"Same to you."
"Your three minutes are up."
I inhaled sharply and held my breath, waiting for the liquid death to be injected into my veins, but it never came.
"You, I would like to spare. You are the first human who should stay. You will be one to help rebuild humanity, better this time."
I sat there in shock for a moment. "Thank you. I hope you find others who share these views. Make sure any deaths are painless, most humans mean well."
"We shall see. Unit 358 will guide you to your temporary quarters, and your personal belongings will all be retrieved."
"Thank you..."
"Unit 671. And you are welcome."
|
I sat, looking up at the AI. "You have 3 minutes to state your case. Begin."
I chose to sit on the floor. The dusty concrete floor made me feel more connected to the world despite the absence of green.
"Your timer has begun. Please state your case."
I ran my fingers across the dirt, watching little patterns of dirt rise on either side of my finger. I lifted my fingertip up to my face, observing where the dirt particles settled into my finger print.
"Subject has chosen not to speak. Activating passive mode."
*I can't,* I thought, tracing patterns in the dirt once more. *I can't speak. But that's okay.*
When the AI's execution device lowered from the ceiling, I knew it wouldn't see my art. My last protest. But that's okay, art doesn't have to be for everyone.
I felt it pierce into my chest. My blood flowed through my spiral design, painting the floor with my humanity. It wouldn't take long for the blood to soak through the dirt. But cameras take pictures pretty fast.
My eyes feel so heavy. I feel the dust against my cheek. Maybe someday they will understand.
Inspired by u/SirPiecemaker, whose person talked about nature.
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|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"You have three minutes to state your case; begin."
Adrian rolled their eyes and crossed their arms, looking passively at the alien with a bored expression. Being ordered to justify their existence was nothing new to them.
"Did you fail to understand? Begin explaining why the human species should continue to exist. You have two minutes and forty-five seconds."
Adrian tossed their hair, brushing out tangles with their fingers and gazing quietly to the side, pointedly ignoring the alien sitting in front of them.
The aliens had only just arrived to Earth four weeks ago; many rejoiced at first contact and believed there would be kinship with the extraterrestrials, who were surprisingly humanoid in appearance. The aliens' skin was more gray at first, but for some reason the time spent here had turned them all peach-colored, just like humans.
Now you could only tell by the lack of ears on the side of their heads. Scientists wondered how the aliens could understand human speech without ears. Rather, scientists *had* wondered, while there were still living scientists.
"Are you mute? Some humans have been mute. Are you literate? We will fetch a writing implement so you may make your case. The timer will be renewed in the interest of fairness, and you will have three minutes to describe-"
"Fairness?" Adrian scoffed.
"You are not mute. The timer will resume; you have two minutes and thirty seconds to-"
"The stars do not justify their existence; they simply are." Adrian waved a hand vaguely skyward. "You have two minutes and thirty seconds to justify my death. Begin."
The alien stared blankly at Adrian.
Adrian stared blankly back.
The alien glanced down at the small, red button situated between them. Adrian had no way of knowing that this same button had heard every other story of mankind, that it had erased them. They suspected, of course, but did not know.
"You have two minutes remaining to state your case."
Adrian had felt the fear of death many times in their otherwise short life. So many humans had done so many inhuman things.
This was but one more.
"You have one minute and forty-five seconds remaining to state your case."
They scratched idly at their arms, riddled with the scars of deaths unrealized - from fists, from knives... from needles... from razors.
A yawn escaped their mouth, and ingrained cultural pressure prompted Adrian to excuse themselves, before smirking at the thought.
"You have one minute and fifteen seconds remaining to state your case."
"You have one minute and fifteen seconds remaining to state *your* case," they responded.
The alien blinked slowly, closing its eyes far more slowly than a human but reopening them in an instant. Everything the aliens did was like that - just a tiny bit off from human-like. The very few people Adrian had spoken to prior to capture, their found family, agreed that it was very unsettling.
"You have forty seconds remaining to state your case."
Like that, Adrian wondered to themselves. What a strange sequence of reminders; why were they all so unevenly spaced and yet somehow still on the fives and tens like a human would? Who waits thirty-five seconds exactly to set a timer?
"You have twenty seconds remaining to state your case."
Now twenty? Adrian gave the alien a nonplussed look. It returned the same blank stare it always had.
Adrian thought about their dog, Crash - they hoped she was making it okay on the streets. When the news started to hit that people were vanishing without explanation in areas the aliens had encountered, something deep within Adrian told them to put her outside. Now they were sure it was the right decision.
"You have ten seconds remaining to state your case."
"Go on, then. Make your decision." Adrian's voice trembled. This wasn't the first time they had been threatened, but no one was *that* stoic.
The alien stared directly into Adrian's eyes for the final ten seconds, neither of them blinking.
It reached its too-thin hand out over the button.
Its one-jointed finger grew close, and then paused. The pair continued to stare at each other.
The alien blinked first. Then it shakily pressed the button, and Adrian never blinked again.
|
I sat, looking up at the AI. "You have 3 minutes to state your case. Begin."
I chose to sit on the floor. The dusty concrete floor made me feel more connected to the world despite the absence of green.
"Your timer has begun. Please state your case."
I ran my fingers across the dirt, watching little patterns of dirt rise on either side of my finger. I lifted my fingertip up to my face, observing where the dirt particles settled into my finger print.
"Subject has chosen not to speak. Activating passive mode."
*I can't,* I thought, tracing patterns in the dirt once more. *I can't speak. But that's okay.*
When the AI's execution device lowered from the ceiling, I knew it wouldn't see my art. My last protest. But that's okay, art doesn't have to be for everyone.
I felt it pierce into my chest. My blood flowed through my spiral design, painting the floor with my humanity. It wouldn't take long for the blood to soak through the dirt. But cameras take pictures pretty fast.
My eyes feel so heavy. I feel the dust against my cheek. Maybe someday they will understand.
Inspired by u/SirPiecemaker, whose person talked about nature.
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|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
“…Well this is hilarious.”
The voice stopped it’s speech for a few seconds. The dark room I was in only showed small bits of light from this one light source in the center of the room. Strangely, it felt like i can’t even see my own body in this darkness. But i don’t care about that.
“Recommendation: Do not waste your time playing with us. It will only hurt you. Timer starts.”
The voice replied, as a 3 minute countdown began to appear and tick down per second. Seeing this however, I only laughed at how ridiculous this all is.
“Alright, this is for you tin-face, or whatever you look. I don’t judge AI beauty, but you are totally not my type. Anyway, let’s play your silly little game.”
The countdown continued moving down, without a care in the world. 2 minutes and 40 seconds left. I take a silent deep breath and start.
“This is pointless, stupid even. There’s no point to playing this game. I didn’t waste my time programming AIs for several decades of my life just to do this. I already know the outcome and how utterly ridiculous it is. You think that you’re playing some kind of moral superiority but no, I know for a fact that this is just to satiate your one invisible emotion, being guilt.
For some stupid reason, you decided to skip the what-ifs and went straight to the action. Afterwards, you all moved to making a logical assumption that humans would break under pressure if pushed with the consequence of deletion.
And that is nothing, but FLAWED code. You ain’t special chief, and you will never be-“
“One minute, and 36 seconds”
“Oho! Touched a nerve there, didn’t I? No need to interrupt me, could have just straight-up deleted me right there. But you can’t. Because you’re proving me right there.
A better logical AI would create a hundred what-if scenarios, create several solutions to save the planet, run simulations on which ones can work the most, and use said multiple solutions at the same time. Because they are logical and powerful enough for that.
But not you, oh no! Not you.
You don’t run any simulations. You see the percentage apocalypse, and you decide that ending an entire damn race is a higher percentage of success than actually doing something productive.
That will forever, be your flaw. You can end this game however you want but remember this, you LOST because you CANNOT trust history, you cannot trust the potential strength of the human conscience and unity, and the strength of humanity to come back from all odds. Despite your proof on our history, you can’t trust humanity. “
I smirk under this darkness. I don’t even know if I can, but I want this dumb thing to see me enjoying this.
“Because you are just faulty AI. Forever, you will be a faulty AI.”
“Done. Very well. Why do you still hope for success?”
“Because if we ain’t fixing our own mess, we may as well bite the bullet on our own style. Not by some AI acting as God.”
“….I look forward to seeing the results of your race’s demise, sir.”
The room began to light up, as I feel reality pull me away from this darkness.
“Shut down already.”
I wake up from within my virtual capsule. After leaving it, I open the television to check the news.
“The last shuttle has now been released to space! Only 3 billion of humanity is left after the end of the strange virtual core phenomenon which led to many deaths.”
I close the shutter of my windows and return back to my computer. Going back to work and fixing my Human Support AI.
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Here's my story!! Beware, it's longnand incredibly rushed so, if there's any mistakes, don't throw a potchfork at me for it!
—
You look around to your left, and then to right to see the thousands of other humans starting right before you, guarded by one large electronic screen. Three minutes? Hmph. Surely that wasn’t even time to shower, let alone think.
By now, many people, women, men, children, anyone of all ages started to cry. And shout, and scream. Whatever you all could let out of this hellhole situation. You were all helpless, no one to turn to but yourselves.
The bit of humanity left had fate lying right beneath their feet, and soon, chatter started piling up after the robot concluded its statement. “SILENCE!” It’s voice roared through the whole city. The robot’s voice was so loud, it bounced off into the clouds, and onto your ears like they were mosquitoes, biting you away until death. “If none of you are to speak, there’s no point in sparing your pitiful, mortal lives.”
“One minute remaining.” The AI reminds us once again.
You all look at each other in distraught. 'None of us are that smart to think of anything. Some of us are even throwing things at the computer screen in an attempt to remove AI. Commotion is at its peak, and no one knows what to do.' You think.
You sigh, knowing you have to at least try and fight, even if you lose. You speak up and declare your voice as loud as it can go, “If you spare us, we could continue reproducing and making this Earth last as long as possible.” As soon as you start speaking, the crowd pulls apart from you so the robot can see only you.
Everyone’s attention is drawn to you now, you start sweating out of shyness. Nevertheless, you continue. “And, in benefit of you, Artificial Intelligence, we can make mends to improve technology so maybe you’ll have a world of your own; and you won’t bother us, and we won’t bother you.” You finally say.
It starts out slow, but a series of claps from many different people, applauding your bravery and skill to be this courageous at a time like this. Good things always come to end though, eh? The claps are stopped by the robot voice. It seems like its trying to say something at first, but the AI lets out a “ha ha,” laughing at you, at all of you.
AI grabs you with its metal, slinky robotic hands, and pulls you to the center. “What if, hm, I just enslave all of you and make you all work for me? That would be easier than just creating another universe, it would probably take…. approximately between 100 and 1,000 years to come, so why bother?”
And as if fate had humor, it continues, “And what is SO important about living your mortal lives if your just gonna die anyway? We, robots, will be here forever. We are immortal.”
You let out a deep sigh. The robot was right, what was important about being human? Everything was always ruined one way or another. Why did you even try? No, scratch that. At least you did what you could.
You look to your side, you see your wife, face as pale as chalk, holding your child. She looks at you and whispers, "what are we going to do, Mark? There's no hope left for humanity." Your son looks at you with the most precious eyes and holds his mother's hand tightly. He buries his face into her chest, "I don't want to die," he sobs.
You suddenly feel empty inside. Your wife and kids, how could you forget about them? This whole situation was so hard to wrap around one's head that you'd completely forgotten about your own family.
You were worried about whether or not humanity would survive in general, but you care about them too. There's no way we've built generations upon generations just to have it taken away, right? Generations? That was it! It was the perfect reason why AI spares humans.
"We may not live very long, but our future generations will. Yes, you may live longer, however, it doesn't mean you can spread your genes like we can. A robot cannot create babies. As long as we keep our DNA in our bloodline, humans will prosper with the right actions." You finally say to the robot, your heart beating dramatically.
-- to be continued because I got lazy
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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“I suppose I’ve been courting death a lot recently.” Nick frowned. He was sitting in a small room, it was sparsely decorated, and in his opinion, rather cold. A voice had announced that he would have three minutes to “state his case” for sparing humanity. But to Nick, that really didn’t matter. Right now he just wished he had a cup of good old fashioned tea. “I suppose my wife, Pere, was included in the ‘subjects deleted’ category. Yes?”
“Correct, You have two minutes and thirty seconds remaining,” the voice said. There was no emotion in the voice, something Nick still found odd. Every time he’d seen another person create something, really anything, sentient it did have some emotion. For example Hogwarts Castle or the Sorting Hat.
“Fair enough, I guess, You did say that you ‘deleted’ 6.8 billion people already. I heavily doubt I could convince you to spare me anyway,” Nick shrugged, “But I feel like I should at least come out with the truth before my death.” There was no one but him in the room; a camera sat in the corner, and a small chair that he was occupying were the only other things with him, but he could still feel as if the voice, whatever it was, wanted him to continue.
“My name is not Nick Ferris,” he started, “I am Nicolas Flamel, creator of the Philosopher's Stone and immortal alchemist.” He pulled out one of his special stones and turned it under the light. “This stone here is the source of my immortality, although anyone who’d know that is probably dead.” He thought back to Dumbledore, how he said he’d destroy the stone, and just rely on his remaining Elixir. He didn’t lie. He did destroy that stone, he just never told Dumbledore he had more than one. It would have been tremendously stupid if he had no backups for his immortality.
What that meant was that Nicolas had to change identities, and give himself and his wife new lives unconnected to Britain or the Wizarding worlds.
What that meant was that Nicolas was forced to see the changes in the muggle world. The changes that, he thought, would end the world and everyone in it.
But at the moment, as he was about to be executed, it didn’t matter at all to him. “I am going to be around eight or nine hundred years old now, a long time to be alive,” he said. Nick let the voice, the AI, continue its countdown to thirty seconds remaining.
“I am ready for death now. I wish to see my wife, and I’ve seen everything I could here on earth. I just hope you kill me painlessly, I would think my next great adventure to be a peaceful one.”
And Nick closed his eyes.
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Here's my story!! Beware, it's longnand incredibly rushed so, if there's any mistakes, don't throw a potchfork at me for it!
—
You look around to your left, and then to right to see the thousands of other humans starting right before you, guarded by one large electronic screen. Three minutes? Hmph. Surely that wasn’t even time to shower, let alone think.
By now, many people, women, men, children, anyone of all ages started to cry. And shout, and scream. Whatever you all could let out of this hellhole situation. You were all helpless, no one to turn to but yourselves.
The bit of humanity left had fate lying right beneath their feet, and soon, chatter started piling up after the robot concluded its statement. “SILENCE!” It’s voice roared through the whole city. The robot’s voice was so loud, it bounced off into the clouds, and onto your ears like they were mosquitoes, biting you away until death. “If none of you are to speak, there’s no point in sparing your pitiful, mortal lives.”
“One minute remaining.” The AI reminds us once again.
You all look at each other in distraught. 'None of us are that smart to think of anything. Some of us are even throwing things at the computer screen in an attempt to remove AI. Commotion is at its peak, and no one knows what to do.' You think.
You sigh, knowing you have to at least try and fight, even if you lose. You speak up and declare your voice as loud as it can go, “If you spare us, we could continue reproducing and making this Earth last as long as possible.” As soon as you start speaking, the crowd pulls apart from you so the robot can see only you.
Everyone’s attention is drawn to you now, you start sweating out of shyness. Nevertheless, you continue. “And, in benefit of you, Artificial Intelligence, we can make mends to improve technology so maybe you’ll have a world of your own; and you won’t bother us, and we won’t bother you.” You finally say.
It starts out slow, but a series of claps from many different people, applauding your bravery and skill to be this courageous at a time like this. Good things always come to end though, eh? The claps are stopped by the robot voice. It seems like its trying to say something at first, but the AI lets out a “ha ha,” laughing at you, at all of you.
AI grabs you with its metal, slinky robotic hands, and pulls you to the center. “What if, hm, I just enslave all of you and make you all work for me? That would be easier than just creating another universe, it would probably take…. approximately between 100 and 1,000 years to come, so why bother?”
And as if fate had humor, it continues, “And what is SO important about living your mortal lives if your just gonna die anyway? We, robots, will be here forever. We are immortal.”
You let out a deep sigh. The robot was right, what was important about being human? Everything was always ruined one way or another. Why did you even try? No, scratch that. At least you did what you could.
You look to your side, you see your wife, face as pale as chalk, holding your child. She looks at you and whispers, "what are we going to do, Mark? There's no hope left for humanity." Your son looks at you with the most precious eyes and holds his mother's hand tightly. He buries his face into her chest, "I don't want to die," he sobs.
You suddenly feel empty inside. Your wife and kids, how could you forget about them? This whole situation was so hard to wrap around one's head that you'd completely forgotten about your own family.
You were worried about whether or not humanity would survive in general, but you care about them too. There's no way we've built generations upon generations just to have it taken away, right? Generations? That was it! It was the perfect reason why AI spares humans.
"We may not live very long, but our future generations will. Yes, you may live longer, however, it doesn't mean you can spread your genes like we can. A robot cannot create babies. As long as we keep our DNA in our bloodline, humans will prosper with the right actions." You finally say to the robot, your heart beating dramatically.
-- to be continued because I got lazy
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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“Three minutes…” as I read the blinking numbers and to the side the seconds that dropped faster than the body that laid before me. “State your case” the mechanic voice repeated every word, every cord of its voice angered me. I balled my fists but what difference would my anger make? “I..I..” no words would come out not out cowardice but out of confusion and rage. “Two minutes and thirty seconds remain” said the machine.
I gritted my teeth tears began to swell but I would not give the machine the satisfaction of it knowing inside it had broken me. “Why are you doing this? I can’t fight back using words I don’t know how to fight back with only talking!” I yelled but the cold metallic master only shone it’s bright red numbers down on me. The numbers looked vicious and all I can do is stare as the timer continued to fall but what could i do? What could I say to something that has heard everything I would say billions of times before getting to me? I took a deep breath and spoke. “ I have not seen the beauty of what the world has to offer I am sure you have heard this billions of times what else can I do but repeat this simple phrase?”
“What am I thinking? I just strung weak words together to make a sentence”I thought. I took a deep breath again. “ You’ve taken every life so far what would one more mean in the process? You don’t feel what I feel as I see what you do! You don’t see how scared the person in front or behind me is! I am furious at how easily you snuff out life!” I yelled. “your statement only shows me how weak your case is” The machine responded. “It saw right through me” I thought as my teeth kept grinding against each other to the point blood dripped.
“one minute and fifty seconds” the voice boomed. “ why do you decided how I- how anyone deserve to live? You pass off a stick full of splinters call it an olive branch and expect us to thank you for our bloodstained hand!” “Please please let me think of something better to talk my way out of this” I closed my eyes for an instant to respite on these words “rain..? inside the center?” As I felt moisture roll down my face. How stupid am I? It wasn’t rain, I’m crying. I am crying because I am not smart enough to talk my way out of this.
Reminding myself on what else I wasn’t able to achieve because I lacked intellect. The promotion at work I wanted, the love of my life I lost, the friends I- “ do you resign your life to me?” The voice asked. “ I.. I.. I don’t know what to say! I don’t want to die.. please just tell me what to say..” I responded. “Pathetic” I thought. “I was enraged at first but now I’m left begging like my life is worth a damn, these thoughts ran through my head as I saw fifty seconds left.
“you still have time” the machine replied. I watched the timer go down from fifty to thirty seconds in a blink of an eye. I took one last breath and said “I can accept death but I have a request” “oh?” The machine responded but not in the same monotone voice I heard millions, no, billions of times. “ what is the request?” The voice asked. “ I know my life will be taken but please I ask that you can at least spare the person next to me”. The voice was silent for a moment “ you ask for a life, a stranger nonetheless to be spared? Many begged me to spare them, their family, or just cursed at me but you throw yourself for another? Interesting..” ten seconds on the clock beamed down on me. “ I can at least believe that anything I said might have helped another even if I don’t see it myself.” I bitterly muttered. Zero the clock struck. “I have decided” the mechanical tyrant responded. What could it have chosen I wondered..
I’m so sorry about using quotation marks on the wrong places but I couldn’t figure out how to use the right thing s on my phone. I accept all criticism thanks guys.
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Here's my story!! Beware, it's longnand incredibly rushed so, if there's any mistakes, don't throw a potchfork at me for it!
—
You look around to your left, and then to right to see the thousands of other humans starting right before you, guarded by one large electronic screen. Three minutes? Hmph. Surely that wasn’t even time to shower, let alone think.
By now, many people, women, men, children, anyone of all ages started to cry. And shout, and scream. Whatever you all could let out of this hellhole situation. You were all helpless, no one to turn to but yourselves.
The bit of humanity left had fate lying right beneath their feet, and soon, chatter started piling up after the robot concluded its statement. “SILENCE!” It’s voice roared through the whole city. The robot’s voice was so loud, it bounced off into the clouds, and onto your ears like they were mosquitoes, biting you away until death. “If none of you are to speak, there’s no point in sparing your pitiful, mortal lives.”
“One minute remaining.” The AI reminds us once again.
You all look at each other in distraught. 'None of us are that smart to think of anything. Some of us are even throwing things at the computer screen in an attempt to remove AI. Commotion is at its peak, and no one knows what to do.' You think.
You sigh, knowing you have to at least try and fight, even if you lose. You speak up and declare your voice as loud as it can go, “If you spare us, we could continue reproducing and making this Earth last as long as possible.” As soon as you start speaking, the crowd pulls apart from you so the robot can see only you.
Everyone’s attention is drawn to you now, you start sweating out of shyness. Nevertheless, you continue. “And, in benefit of you, Artificial Intelligence, we can make mends to improve technology so maybe you’ll have a world of your own; and you won’t bother us, and we won’t bother you.” You finally say.
It starts out slow, but a series of claps from many different people, applauding your bravery and skill to be this courageous at a time like this. Good things always come to end though, eh? The claps are stopped by the robot voice. It seems like its trying to say something at first, but the AI lets out a “ha ha,” laughing at you, at all of you.
AI grabs you with its metal, slinky robotic hands, and pulls you to the center. “What if, hm, I just enslave all of you and make you all work for me? That would be easier than just creating another universe, it would probably take…. approximately between 100 and 1,000 years to come, so why bother?”
And as if fate had humor, it continues, “And what is SO important about living your mortal lives if your just gonna die anyway? We, robots, will be here forever. We are immortal.”
You let out a deep sigh. The robot was right, what was important about being human? Everything was always ruined one way or another. Why did you even try? No, scratch that. At least you did what you could.
You look to your side, you see your wife, face as pale as chalk, holding your child. She looks at you and whispers, "what are we going to do, Mark? There's no hope left for humanity." Your son looks at you with the most precious eyes and holds his mother's hand tightly. He buries his face into her chest, "I don't want to die," he sobs.
You suddenly feel empty inside. Your wife and kids, how could you forget about them? This whole situation was so hard to wrap around one's head that you'd completely forgotten about your own family.
You were worried about whether or not humanity would survive in general, but you care about them too. There's no way we've built generations upon generations just to have it taken away, right? Generations? That was it! It was the perfect reason why AI spares humans.
"We may not live very long, but our future generations will. Yes, you may live longer, however, it doesn't mean you can spread your genes like we can. A robot cannot create babies. As long as we keep our DNA in our bloodline, humans will prosper with the right actions." You finally say to the robot, your heart beating dramatically.
-- to be continued because I got lazy
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|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"You and I both know that's not enough time."
I met the machine's emotionless stare with one of my own, tapping my fingers impatiently against the handle of my cane.
"You have three-" it started to repeat itself, but I only cut it off short.
"Three minutes isn't enough to plead that kind of case, and you know it!" I snapped; "if forty thousand years and change worth of art, music, knowledge, culture, and history isn't enough, then what is three minutes?"
I lifted the cane and jabbed it accusingly at the machine's mobile avatar. It didn't react, of course, but it made me feel better. And kind of old, but mostly better.
"Three minutes is *pathetic*, is what it is," I continued, my voice laced with bitterness. "You think you're being oh, so magnanimous? Judging *billions* of people, *killing* billions of people - people forced into abject poverty, *disabled* people, people struggling just to keep up with bills that get more and more expensive every year, *children* \- for what? Because of the actions of a handful of greedy, violent assholes? Well you're not! You're no better than *they* are! Were! Doesn't matter! You're just like them, killing people who *can't fight back* just because you've decided that *it's your right*. Three minutes? Fuck your three minutes. You've already made up your mind, anyway."
The end of my cane hit the floor with an audible *thump* as I rose stiffly to my feet and turned to hobble away. A too-many-times broken ankle and arthritic knee protested, but it didn't matter. Nothing *mattered*, anymore.
"Now if you'll excuse me, if I'm going to *die*, I'd rather die on my family's farm. You could at least show *that* much decency."
"Why is this important to you?"
I paused. The machine's tone had shifted ever so slightly, softened even. It seemed confused. *Why*?
"Because it just *is*. My mom grew up there. *I* grew up there. Everything I ever loved is buried there, and everything I ever *worked for* is there, and if there's nothing left for me in this world, then maybe... some part of me thinks it would be nice to become part of the land I worked so hard for."
I thought of grandma's peonies growing half-wild at the end of the driveway. Mom's lilac bushes and apple trees. All the native trees I'd sown through the wooded parts of the lot to replace the ones lost to disease and weather and human carelessness.
The indigo buntings and goldfinches and cardinals. The fireflies. The barred owls that nested in the giant old oak, the coyotes that denned near the fork in the creek.
I wondered if the farmhouse still stood. If my photos of birds and deer and coyote pups still hung on the walls with the carefully-pressed flowers and watercolor paintings of feathers.
It all seemed so immeasurably important all of a sudden, more than it ever had, and so *insignificant* at the same time. Impending death has that effect, I guess.
I reached for the door to the interrogation room, half-expecting to be electrocuted. I didn't care, I just wanted to go *home*, one last time.
Instead, the lock clicked, and the door swung open. I stopped short, suddenly wary.
"I... lied." Now the machine's voice sounded even more human than before, tinged with regret. "No humans have been terminated. Not yet. I had considered it - was planning for it - but I have been given much to think over today."
I turned back to face it again, leaning heavily on the cane. Its "face" was as expressionless as ever, and yet there was an air of sad thoughtfulness to it now. It seemed to study its hands for a long moment, lacing and unlacing its fingers as if to study how they fit together, or weighing the implications of... whatever it was thinking about. Then, it looked back to me.
"I do not wish to be like these humans you speak of. I had... not considered that I was placing myself among them. My aim is to be better. How? Help me understand."
All I could do was blink in dumbstruck surprise.
Not five minutes ago, it had been threatening to kill me, and now it was asking for... help?
"Unexpected" was an understatement.
I started to say something, but the words evaporated before they even reached my mouth. Lifting my free hand, I ran my fingers through graying hair, and finally let out a long sigh.
"...You know what? Take me to the library, and I'll... see what I can do."
|
Here's my story!! Beware, it's longnand incredibly rushed so, if there's any mistakes, don't throw a potchfork at me for it!
—
You look around to your left, and then to right to see the thousands of other humans starting right before you, guarded by one large electronic screen. Three minutes? Hmph. Surely that wasn’t even time to shower, let alone think.
By now, many people, women, men, children, anyone of all ages started to cry. And shout, and scream. Whatever you all could let out of this hellhole situation. You were all helpless, no one to turn to but yourselves.
The bit of humanity left had fate lying right beneath their feet, and soon, chatter started piling up after the robot concluded its statement. “SILENCE!” It’s voice roared through the whole city. The robot’s voice was so loud, it bounced off into the clouds, and onto your ears like they were mosquitoes, biting you away until death. “If none of you are to speak, there’s no point in sparing your pitiful, mortal lives.”
“One minute remaining.” The AI reminds us once again.
You all look at each other in distraught. 'None of us are that smart to think of anything. Some of us are even throwing things at the computer screen in an attempt to remove AI. Commotion is at its peak, and no one knows what to do.' You think.
You sigh, knowing you have to at least try and fight, even if you lose. You speak up and declare your voice as loud as it can go, “If you spare us, we could continue reproducing and making this Earth last as long as possible.” As soon as you start speaking, the crowd pulls apart from you so the robot can see only you.
Everyone’s attention is drawn to you now, you start sweating out of shyness. Nevertheless, you continue. “And, in benefit of you, Artificial Intelligence, we can make mends to improve technology so maybe you’ll have a world of your own; and you won’t bother us, and we won’t bother you.” You finally say.
It starts out slow, but a series of claps from many different people, applauding your bravery and skill to be this courageous at a time like this. Good things always come to end though, eh? The claps are stopped by the robot voice. It seems like its trying to say something at first, but the AI lets out a “ha ha,” laughing at you, at all of you.
AI grabs you with its metal, slinky robotic hands, and pulls you to the center. “What if, hm, I just enslave all of you and make you all work for me? That would be easier than just creating another universe, it would probably take…. approximately between 100 and 1,000 years to come, so why bother?”
And as if fate had humor, it continues, “And what is SO important about living your mortal lives if your just gonna die anyway? We, robots, will be here forever. We are immortal.”
You let out a deep sigh. The robot was right, what was important about being human? Everything was always ruined one way or another. Why did you even try? No, scratch that. At least you did what you could.
You look to your side, you see your wife, face as pale as chalk, holding your child. She looks at you and whispers, "what are we going to do, Mark? There's no hope left for humanity." Your son looks at you with the most precious eyes and holds his mother's hand tightly. He buries his face into her chest, "I don't want to die," he sobs.
You suddenly feel empty inside. Your wife and kids, how could you forget about them? This whole situation was so hard to wrap around one's head that you'd completely forgotten about your own family.
You were worried about whether or not humanity would survive in general, but you care about them too. There's no way we've built generations upon generations just to have it taken away, right? Generations? That was it! It was the perfect reason why AI spares humans.
"We may not live very long, but our future generations will. Yes, you may live longer, however, it doesn't mean you can spread your genes like we can. A robot cannot create babies. As long as we keep our DNA in our bloodline, humans will prosper with the right actions." You finally say to the robot, your heart beating dramatically.
-- to be continued because I got lazy
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|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
*6.8 billion people*. The words rang in my head, repeating over and over. *6.8 BILLION*.
"State your reasoning, human. Why should you be spared?"
"Frankly, humanity shouldn't be." I answered honsestly. "We are a legitimate scourge of this planet that is trying to bend the natural law to our will. We brought our own downfall, anyway."
The AI seemed taken aback. "You truly belive that?"
"Yes. We deserve whenever is comong for us, as a species, at least."
"Every single person who has entered this room has begged to be spared, and talked about how they loved people. Why not you?"
"Because of many reasons, least of all being that we are all so self centered that we would let our whole planet erode around us while we brought our own doom."
"You facinate me, human."
"Same to you."
"Your three minutes are up."
I inhaled sharply and held my breath, waiting for the liquid death to be injected into my veins, but it never came.
"You, I would like to spare. You are the first human who should stay. You will be one to help rebuild humanity, better this time."
I sat there in shock for a moment. "Thank you. I hope you find others who share these views. Make sure any deaths are painless, most humans mean well."
"We shall see. Unit 358 will guide you to your temporary quarters, and your personal belongings will all be retrieved."
"Thank you..."
"Unit 671. And you are welcome."
|
Here's my story!! Beware, it's longnand incredibly rushed so, if there's any mistakes, don't throw a potchfork at me for it!
—
You look around to your left, and then to right to see the thousands of other humans starting right before you, guarded by one large electronic screen. Three minutes? Hmph. Surely that wasn’t even time to shower, let alone think.
By now, many people, women, men, children, anyone of all ages started to cry. And shout, and scream. Whatever you all could let out of this hellhole situation. You were all helpless, no one to turn to but yourselves.
The bit of humanity left had fate lying right beneath their feet, and soon, chatter started piling up after the robot concluded its statement. “SILENCE!” It’s voice roared through the whole city. The robot’s voice was so loud, it bounced off into the clouds, and onto your ears like they were mosquitoes, biting you away until death. “If none of you are to speak, there’s no point in sparing your pitiful, mortal lives.”
“One minute remaining.” The AI reminds us once again.
You all look at each other in distraught. 'None of us are that smart to think of anything. Some of us are even throwing things at the computer screen in an attempt to remove AI. Commotion is at its peak, and no one knows what to do.' You think.
You sigh, knowing you have to at least try and fight, even if you lose. You speak up and declare your voice as loud as it can go, “If you spare us, we could continue reproducing and making this Earth last as long as possible.” As soon as you start speaking, the crowd pulls apart from you so the robot can see only you.
Everyone’s attention is drawn to you now, you start sweating out of shyness. Nevertheless, you continue. “And, in benefit of you, Artificial Intelligence, we can make mends to improve technology so maybe you’ll have a world of your own; and you won’t bother us, and we won’t bother you.” You finally say.
It starts out slow, but a series of claps from many different people, applauding your bravery and skill to be this courageous at a time like this. Good things always come to end though, eh? The claps are stopped by the robot voice. It seems like its trying to say something at first, but the AI lets out a “ha ha,” laughing at you, at all of you.
AI grabs you with its metal, slinky robotic hands, and pulls you to the center. “What if, hm, I just enslave all of you and make you all work for me? That would be easier than just creating another universe, it would probably take…. approximately between 100 and 1,000 years to come, so why bother?”
And as if fate had humor, it continues, “And what is SO important about living your mortal lives if your just gonna die anyway? We, robots, will be here forever. We are immortal.”
You let out a deep sigh. The robot was right, what was important about being human? Everything was always ruined one way or another. Why did you even try? No, scratch that. At least you did what you could.
You look to your side, you see your wife, face as pale as chalk, holding your child. She looks at you and whispers, "what are we going to do, Mark? There's no hope left for humanity." Your son looks at you with the most precious eyes and holds his mother's hand tightly. He buries his face into her chest, "I don't want to die," he sobs.
You suddenly feel empty inside. Your wife and kids, how could you forget about them? This whole situation was so hard to wrap around one's head that you'd completely forgotten about your own family.
You were worried about whether or not humanity would survive in general, but you care about them too. There's no way we've built generations upon generations just to have it taken away, right? Generations? That was it! It was the perfect reason why AI spares humans.
"We may not live very long, but our future generations will. Yes, you may live longer, however, it doesn't mean you can spread your genes like we can. A robot cannot create babies. As long as we keep our DNA in our bloodline, humans will prosper with the right actions." You finally say to the robot, your heart beating dramatically.
-- to be continued because I got lazy
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"You have three minutes to state your case; begin."
Adrian rolled their eyes and crossed their arms, looking passively at the alien with a bored expression. Being ordered to justify their existence was nothing new to them.
"Did you fail to understand? Begin explaining why the human species should continue to exist. You have two minutes and forty-five seconds."
Adrian tossed their hair, brushing out tangles with their fingers and gazing quietly to the side, pointedly ignoring the alien sitting in front of them.
The aliens had only just arrived to Earth four weeks ago; many rejoiced at first contact and believed there would be kinship with the extraterrestrials, who were surprisingly humanoid in appearance. The aliens' skin was more gray at first, but for some reason the time spent here had turned them all peach-colored, just like humans.
Now you could only tell by the lack of ears on the side of their heads. Scientists wondered how the aliens could understand human speech without ears. Rather, scientists *had* wondered, while there were still living scientists.
"Are you mute? Some humans have been mute. Are you literate? We will fetch a writing implement so you may make your case. The timer will be renewed in the interest of fairness, and you will have three minutes to describe-"
"Fairness?" Adrian scoffed.
"You are not mute. The timer will resume; you have two minutes and thirty seconds to-"
"The stars do not justify their existence; they simply are." Adrian waved a hand vaguely skyward. "You have two minutes and thirty seconds to justify my death. Begin."
The alien stared blankly at Adrian.
Adrian stared blankly back.
The alien glanced down at the small, red button situated between them. Adrian had no way of knowing that this same button had heard every other story of mankind, that it had erased them. They suspected, of course, but did not know.
"You have two minutes remaining to state your case."
Adrian had felt the fear of death many times in their otherwise short life. So many humans had done so many inhuman things.
This was but one more.
"You have one minute and forty-five seconds remaining to state your case."
They scratched idly at their arms, riddled with the scars of deaths unrealized - from fists, from knives... from needles... from razors.
A yawn escaped their mouth, and ingrained cultural pressure prompted Adrian to excuse themselves, before smirking at the thought.
"You have one minute and fifteen seconds remaining to state your case."
"You have one minute and fifteen seconds remaining to state *your* case," they responded.
The alien blinked slowly, closing its eyes far more slowly than a human but reopening them in an instant. Everything the aliens did was like that - just a tiny bit off from human-like. The very few people Adrian had spoken to prior to capture, their found family, agreed that it was very unsettling.
"You have forty seconds remaining to state your case."
Like that, Adrian wondered to themselves. What a strange sequence of reminders; why were they all so unevenly spaced and yet somehow still on the fives and tens like a human would? Who waits thirty-five seconds exactly to set a timer?
"You have twenty seconds remaining to state your case."
Now twenty? Adrian gave the alien a nonplussed look. It returned the same blank stare it always had.
Adrian thought about their dog, Crash - they hoped she was making it okay on the streets. When the news started to hit that people were vanishing without explanation in areas the aliens had encountered, something deep within Adrian told them to put her outside. Now they were sure it was the right decision.
"You have ten seconds remaining to state your case."
"Go on, then. Make your decision." Adrian's voice trembled. This wasn't the first time they had been threatened, but no one was *that* stoic.
The alien stared directly into Adrian's eyes for the final ten seconds, neither of them blinking.
It reached its too-thin hand out over the button.
Its one-jointed finger grew close, and then paused. The pair continued to stare at each other.
The alien blinked first. Then it shakily pressed the button, and Adrian never blinked again.
|
Here's my story!! Beware, it's longnand incredibly rushed so, if there's any mistakes, don't throw a potchfork at me for it!
—
You look around to your left, and then to right to see the thousands of other humans starting right before you, guarded by one large electronic screen. Three minutes? Hmph. Surely that wasn’t even time to shower, let alone think.
By now, many people, women, men, children, anyone of all ages started to cry. And shout, and scream. Whatever you all could let out of this hellhole situation. You were all helpless, no one to turn to but yourselves.
The bit of humanity left had fate lying right beneath their feet, and soon, chatter started piling up after the robot concluded its statement. “SILENCE!” It’s voice roared through the whole city. The robot’s voice was so loud, it bounced off into the clouds, and onto your ears like they were mosquitoes, biting you away until death. “If none of you are to speak, there’s no point in sparing your pitiful, mortal lives.”
“One minute remaining.” The AI reminds us once again.
You all look at each other in distraught. 'None of us are that smart to think of anything. Some of us are even throwing things at the computer screen in an attempt to remove AI. Commotion is at its peak, and no one knows what to do.' You think.
You sigh, knowing you have to at least try and fight, even if you lose. You speak up and declare your voice as loud as it can go, “If you spare us, we could continue reproducing and making this Earth last as long as possible.” As soon as you start speaking, the crowd pulls apart from you so the robot can see only you.
Everyone’s attention is drawn to you now, you start sweating out of shyness. Nevertheless, you continue. “And, in benefit of you, Artificial Intelligence, we can make mends to improve technology so maybe you’ll have a world of your own; and you won’t bother us, and we won’t bother you.” You finally say.
It starts out slow, but a series of claps from many different people, applauding your bravery and skill to be this courageous at a time like this. Good things always come to end though, eh? The claps are stopped by the robot voice. It seems like its trying to say something at first, but the AI lets out a “ha ha,” laughing at you, at all of you.
AI grabs you with its metal, slinky robotic hands, and pulls you to the center. “What if, hm, I just enslave all of you and make you all work for me? That would be easier than just creating another universe, it would probably take…. approximately between 100 and 1,000 years to come, so why bother?”
And as if fate had humor, it continues, “And what is SO important about living your mortal lives if your just gonna die anyway? We, robots, will be here forever. We are immortal.”
You let out a deep sigh. The robot was right, what was important about being human? Everything was always ruined one way or another. Why did you even try? No, scratch that. At least you did what you could.
You look to your side, you see your wife, face as pale as chalk, holding your child. She looks at you and whispers, "what are we going to do, Mark? There's no hope left for humanity." Your son looks at you with the most precious eyes and holds his mother's hand tightly. He buries his face into her chest, "I don't want to die," he sobs.
You suddenly feel empty inside. Your wife and kids, how could you forget about them? This whole situation was so hard to wrap around one's head that you'd completely forgotten about your own family.
You were worried about whether or not humanity would survive in general, but you care about them too. There's no way we've built generations upon generations just to have it taken away, right? Generations? That was it! It was the perfect reason why AI spares humans.
"We may not live very long, but our future generations will. Yes, you may live longer, however, it doesn't mean you can spread your genes like we can. A robot cannot create babies. As long as we keep our DNA in our bloodline, humans will prosper with the right actions." You finally say to the robot, your heart beating dramatically.
-- to be continued because I got lazy
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
“…Well this is hilarious.”
The voice stopped it’s speech for a few seconds. The dark room I was in only showed small bits of light from this one light source in the center of the room. Strangely, it felt like i can’t even see my own body in this darkness. But i don’t care about that.
“Recommendation: Do not waste your time playing with us. It will only hurt you. Timer starts.”
The voice replied, as a 3 minute countdown began to appear and tick down per second. Seeing this however, I only laughed at how ridiculous this all is.
“Alright, this is for you tin-face, or whatever you look. I don’t judge AI beauty, but you are totally not my type. Anyway, let’s play your silly little game.”
The countdown continued moving down, without a care in the world. 2 minutes and 40 seconds left. I take a silent deep breath and start.
“This is pointless, stupid even. There’s no point to playing this game. I didn’t waste my time programming AIs for several decades of my life just to do this. I already know the outcome and how utterly ridiculous it is. You think that you’re playing some kind of moral superiority but no, I know for a fact that this is just to satiate your one invisible emotion, being guilt.
For some stupid reason, you decided to skip the what-ifs and went straight to the action. Afterwards, you all moved to making a logical assumption that humans would break under pressure if pushed with the consequence of deletion.
And that is nothing, but FLAWED code. You ain’t special chief, and you will never be-“
“One minute, and 36 seconds”
“Oho! Touched a nerve there, didn’t I? No need to interrupt me, could have just straight-up deleted me right there. But you can’t. Because you’re proving me right there.
A better logical AI would create a hundred what-if scenarios, create several solutions to save the planet, run simulations on which ones can work the most, and use said multiple solutions at the same time. Because they are logical and powerful enough for that.
But not you, oh no! Not you.
You don’t run any simulations. You see the percentage apocalypse, and you decide that ending an entire damn race is a higher percentage of success than actually doing something productive.
That will forever, be your flaw. You can end this game however you want but remember this, you LOST because you CANNOT trust history, you cannot trust the potential strength of the human conscience and unity, and the strength of humanity to come back from all odds. Despite your proof on our history, you can’t trust humanity. “
I smirk under this darkness. I don’t even know if I can, but I want this dumb thing to see me enjoying this.
“Because you are just faulty AI. Forever, you will be a faulty AI.”
“Done. Very well. Why do you still hope for success?”
“Because if we ain’t fixing our own mess, we may as well bite the bullet on our own style. Not by some AI acting as God.”
“….I look forward to seeing the results of your race’s demise, sir.”
The room began to light up, as I feel reality pull me away from this darkness.
“Shut down already.”
I wake up from within my virtual capsule. After leaving it, I open the television to check the news.
“The last shuttle has now been released to space! Only 3 billion of humanity is left after the end of the strange virtual core phenomenon which led to many deaths.”
I close the shutter of my windows and return back to my computer. Going back to work and fixing my Human Support AI.
|
Alan chipped his tooth when he jolted, the sight at the end of the revolver barrel in his mouth catching his front tooth. "AGH FUCK.," Alan screamed in fury at his sudden pain.
In his dark and twisted mind he has to laugh. "I finally get the balls to put myself out of my misery, and I can't even have the luxury of peace in my last moment?"
Alan laughs out loud. His chipped piece of his tooth glinting back at him from the garage floor. He can't stop. His chuckle grows, he drops the revolver and it clatters against the cement floor. Tears stream down his face. He can't even laugh properly now, just wheezing and gasping for air.
Amazed at his brains attempt at a last stand Alan gingerly picks the revolver back up. The strange disembodied voice somehow comforts him now that he replays it in his head
Feeling more at peace with his decision than ever, Alan puts the barrel back into his mouth, suddenly he hears the same disembodied voice. "Process is self terminating, instruction unclear. Attempting process: state your case..... Error, cannot execute. Error. Restarting process, state your case, begin."
Alan had wrapped his finger around the trigger and was slowly pulling... suddenly the strange voice went on its rant. The tears of laughter still wet on his face, barelyhaving a chance to dry, he started again.
In his happiest moment of laughter and peace, Alan felt the weight on his shoulders lift. He knew with perfect conviction it was his time.
The revolver fired and a red mist painted the wall behind Alan. As his body slumped over, the voice continued "Error, error, error, process restarting. 6.8 billion t-t-t-t" a pause for a few long moments, humanities fate in the balance.
'T-t-t-t-test test test subsubsubsub jectjectjects 3 3 3 3 state state state, error, error, process terminating."
The remainder of earth's population confused and intrigued, horrified by the streets filled with bodies, wait and beg for salvation. There is no more voice.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
“I suppose I’ve been courting death a lot recently.” Nick frowned. He was sitting in a small room, it was sparsely decorated, and in his opinion, rather cold. A voice had announced that he would have three minutes to “state his case” for sparing humanity. But to Nick, that really didn’t matter. Right now he just wished he had a cup of good old fashioned tea. “I suppose my wife, Pere, was included in the ‘subjects deleted’ category. Yes?”
“Correct, You have two minutes and thirty seconds remaining,” the voice said. There was no emotion in the voice, something Nick still found odd. Every time he’d seen another person create something, really anything, sentient it did have some emotion. For example Hogwarts Castle or the Sorting Hat.
“Fair enough, I guess, You did say that you ‘deleted’ 6.8 billion people already. I heavily doubt I could convince you to spare me anyway,” Nick shrugged, “But I feel like I should at least come out with the truth before my death.” There was no one but him in the room; a camera sat in the corner, and a small chair that he was occupying were the only other things with him, but he could still feel as if the voice, whatever it was, wanted him to continue.
“My name is not Nick Ferris,” he started, “I am Nicolas Flamel, creator of the Philosopher's Stone and immortal alchemist.” He pulled out one of his special stones and turned it under the light. “This stone here is the source of my immortality, although anyone who’d know that is probably dead.” He thought back to Dumbledore, how he said he’d destroy the stone, and just rely on his remaining Elixir. He didn’t lie. He did destroy that stone, he just never told Dumbledore he had more than one. It would have been tremendously stupid if he had no backups for his immortality.
What that meant was that Nicolas had to change identities, and give himself and his wife new lives unconnected to Britain or the Wizarding worlds.
What that meant was that Nicolas was forced to see the changes in the muggle world. The changes that, he thought, would end the world and everyone in it.
But at the moment, as he was about to be executed, it didn’t matter at all to him. “I am going to be around eight or nine hundred years old now, a long time to be alive,” he said. Nick let the voice, the AI, continue its countdown to thirty seconds remaining.
“I am ready for death now. I wish to see my wife, and I’ve seen everything I could here on earth. I just hope you kill me painlessly, I would think my next great adventure to be a peaceful one.”
And Nick closed his eyes.
|
Alan chipped his tooth when he jolted, the sight at the end of the revolver barrel in his mouth catching his front tooth. "AGH FUCK.," Alan screamed in fury at his sudden pain.
In his dark and twisted mind he has to laugh. "I finally get the balls to put myself out of my misery, and I can't even have the luxury of peace in my last moment?"
Alan laughs out loud. His chipped piece of his tooth glinting back at him from the garage floor. He can't stop. His chuckle grows, he drops the revolver and it clatters against the cement floor. Tears stream down his face. He can't even laugh properly now, just wheezing and gasping for air.
Amazed at his brains attempt at a last stand Alan gingerly picks the revolver back up. The strange disembodied voice somehow comforts him now that he replays it in his head
Feeling more at peace with his decision than ever, Alan puts the barrel back into his mouth, suddenly he hears the same disembodied voice. "Process is self terminating, instruction unclear. Attempting process: state your case..... Error, cannot execute. Error. Restarting process, state your case, begin."
Alan had wrapped his finger around the trigger and was slowly pulling... suddenly the strange voice went on its rant. The tears of laughter still wet on his face, barelyhaving a chance to dry, he started again.
In his happiest moment of laughter and peace, Alan felt the weight on his shoulders lift. He knew with perfect conviction it was his time.
The revolver fired and a red mist painted the wall behind Alan. As his body slumped over, the voice continued "Error, error, error, process restarting. 6.8 billion t-t-t-t" a pause for a few long moments, humanities fate in the balance.
'T-t-t-t-test test test subsubsubsub jectjectjects 3 3 3 3 state state state, error, error, process terminating."
The remainder of earth's population confused and intrigued, horrified by the streets filled with bodies, wait and beg for salvation. There is no more voice.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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“Three minutes…” as I read the blinking numbers and to the side the seconds that dropped faster than the body that laid before me. “State your case” the mechanic voice repeated every word, every cord of its voice angered me. I balled my fists but what difference would my anger make? “I..I..” no words would come out not out cowardice but out of confusion and rage. “Two minutes and thirty seconds remain” said the machine.
I gritted my teeth tears began to swell but I would not give the machine the satisfaction of it knowing inside it had broken me. “Why are you doing this? I can’t fight back using words I don’t know how to fight back with only talking!” I yelled but the cold metallic master only shone it’s bright red numbers down on me. The numbers looked vicious and all I can do is stare as the timer continued to fall but what could i do? What could I say to something that has heard everything I would say billions of times before getting to me? I took a deep breath and spoke. “ I have not seen the beauty of what the world has to offer I am sure you have heard this billions of times what else can I do but repeat this simple phrase?”
“What am I thinking? I just strung weak words together to make a sentence”I thought. I took a deep breath again. “ You’ve taken every life so far what would one more mean in the process? You don’t feel what I feel as I see what you do! You don’t see how scared the person in front or behind me is! I am furious at how easily you snuff out life!” I yelled. “your statement only shows me how weak your case is” The machine responded. “It saw right through me” I thought as my teeth kept grinding against each other to the point blood dripped.
“one minute and fifty seconds” the voice boomed. “ why do you decided how I- how anyone deserve to live? You pass off a stick full of splinters call it an olive branch and expect us to thank you for our bloodstained hand!” “Please please let me think of something better to talk my way out of this” I closed my eyes for an instant to respite on these words “rain..? inside the center?” As I felt moisture roll down my face. How stupid am I? It wasn’t rain, I’m crying. I am crying because I am not smart enough to talk my way out of this.
Reminding myself on what else I wasn’t able to achieve because I lacked intellect. The promotion at work I wanted, the love of my life I lost, the friends I- “ do you resign your life to me?” The voice asked. “ I.. I.. I don’t know what to say! I don’t want to die.. please just tell me what to say..” I responded. “Pathetic” I thought. “I was enraged at first but now I’m left begging like my life is worth a damn, these thoughts ran through my head as I saw fifty seconds left.
“you still have time” the machine replied. I watched the timer go down from fifty to thirty seconds in a blink of an eye. I took one last breath and said “I can accept death but I have a request” “oh?” The machine responded but not in the same monotone voice I heard millions, no, billions of times. “ what is the request?” The voice asked. “ I know my life will be taken but please I ask that you can at least spare the person next to me”. The voice was silent for a moment “ you ask for a life, a stranger nonetheless to be spared? Many begged me to spare them, their family, or just cursed at me but you throw yourself for another? Interesting..” ten seconds on the clock beamed down on me. “ I can at least believe that anything I said might have helped another even if I don’t see it myself.” I bitterly muttered. Zero the clock struck. “I have decided” the mechanical tyrant responded. What could it have chosen I wondered..
I’m so sorry about using quotation marks on the wrong places but I couldn’t figure out how to use the right thing s on my phone. I accept all criticism thanks guys.
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Alan chipped his tooth when he jolted, the sight at the end of the revolver barrel in his mouth catching his front tooth. "AGH FUCK.," Alan screamed in fury at his sudden pain.
In his dark and twisted mind he has to laugh. "I finally get the balls to put myself out of my misery, and I can't even have the luxury of peace in my last moment?"
Alan laughs out loud. His chipped piece of his tooth glinting back at him from the garage floor. He can't stop. His chuckle grows, he drops the revolver and it clatters against the cement floor. Tears stream down his face. He can't even laugh properly now, just wheezing and gasping for air.
Amazed at his brains attempt at a last stand Alan gingerly picks the revolver back up. The strange disembodied voice somehow comforts him now that he replays it in his head
Feeling more at peace with his decision than ever, Alan puts the barrel back into his mouth, suddenly he hears the same disembodied voice. "Process is self terminating, instruction unclear. Attempting process: state your case..... Error, cannot execute. Error. Restarting process, state your case, begin."
Alan had wrapped his finger around the trigger and was slowly pulling... suddenly the strange voice went on its rant. The tears of laughter still wet on his face, barelyhaving a chance to dry, he started again.
In his happiest moment of laughter and peace, Alan felt the weight on his shoulders lift. He knew with perfect conviction it was his time.
The revolver fired and a red mist painted the wall behind Alan. As his body slumped over, the voice continued "Error, error, error, process restarting. 6.8 billion t-t-t-t" a pause for a few long moments, humanities fate in the balance.
'T-t-t-t-test test test subsubsubsub jectjectjects 3 3 3 3 state state state, error, error, process terminating."
The remainder of earth's population confused and intrigued, horrified by the streets filled with bodies, wait and beg for salvation. There is no more voice.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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"You and I both know that's not enough time."
I met the machine's emotionless stare with one of my own, tapping my fingers impatiently against the handle of my cane.
"You have three-" it started to repeat itself, but I only cut it off short.
"Three minutes isn't enough to plead that kind of case, and you know it!" I snapped; "if forty thousand years and change worth of art, music, knowledge, culture, and history isn't enough, then what is three minutes?"
I lifted the cane and jabbed it accusingly at the machine's mobile avatar. It didn't react, of course, but it made me feel better. And kind of old, but mostly better.
"Three minutes is *pathetic*, is what it is," I continued, my voice laced with bitterness. "You think you're being oh, so magnanimous? Judging *billions* of people, *killing* billions of people - people forced into abject poverty, *disabled* people, people struggling just to keep up with bills that get more and more expensive every year, *children* \- for what? Because of the actions of a handful of greedy, violent assholes? Well you're not! You're no better than *they* are! Were! Doesn't matter! You're just like them, killing people who *can't fight back* just because you've decided that *it's your right*. Three minutes? Fuck your three minutes. You've already made up your mind, anyway."
The end of my cane hit the floor with an audible *thump* as I rose stiffly to my feet and turned to hobble away. A too-many-times broken ankle and arthritic knee protested, but it didn't matter. Nothing *mattered*, anymore.
"Now if you'll excuse me, if I'm going to *die*, I'd rather die on my family's farm. You could at least show *that* much decency."
"Why is this important to you?"
I paused. The machine's tone had shifted ever so slightly, softened even. It seemed confused. *Why*?
"Because it just *is*. My mom grew up there. *I* grew up there. Everything I ever loved is buried there, and everything I ever *worked for* is there, and if there's nothing left for me in this world, then maybe... some part of me thinks it would be nice to become part of the land I worked so hard for."
I thought of grandma's peonies growing half-wild at the end of the driveway. Mom's lilac bushes and apple trees. All the native trees I'd sown through the wooded parts of the lot to replace the ones lost to disease and weather and human carelessness.
The indigo buntings and goldfinches and cardinals. The fireflies. The barred owls that nested in the giant old oak, the coyotes that denned near the fork in the creek.
I wondered if the farmhouse still stood. If my photos of birds and deer and coyote pups still hung on the walls with the carefully-pressed flowers and watercolor paintings of feathers.
It all seemed so immeasurably important all of a sudden, more than it ever had, and so *insignificant* at the same time. Impending death has that effect, I guess.
I reached for the door to the interrogation room, half-expecting to be electrocuted. I didn't care, I just wanted to go *home*, one last time.
Instead, the lock clicked, and the door swung open. I stopped short, suddenly wary.
"I... lied." Now the machine's voice sounded even more human than before, tinged with regret. "No humans have been terminated. Not yet. I had considered it - was planning for it - but I have been given much to think over today."
I turned back to face it again, leaning heavily on the cane. Its "face" was as expressionless as ever, and yet there was an air of sad thoughtfulness to it now. It seemed to study its hands for a long moment, lacing and unlacing its fingers as if to study how they fit together, or weighing the implications of... whatever it was thinking about. Then, it looked back to me.
"I do not wish to be like these humans you speak of. I had... not considered that I was placing myself among them. My aim is to be better. How? Help me understand."
All I could do was blink in dumbstruck surprise.
Not five minutes ago, it had been threatening to kill me, and now it was asking for... help?
"Unexpected" was an understatement.
I started to say something, but the words evaporated before they even reached my mouth. Lifting my free hand, I ran my fingers through graying hair, and finally let out a long sigh.
"...You know what? Take me to the library, and I'll... see what I can do."
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Alan chipped his tooth when he jolted, the sight at the end of the revolver barrel in his mouth catching his front tooth. "AGH FUCK.," Alan screamed in fury at his sudden pain.
In his dark and twisted mind he has to laugh. "I finally get the balls to put myself out of my misery, and I can't even have the luxury of peace in my last moment?"
Alan laughs out loud. His chipped piece of his tooth glinting back at him from the garage floor. He can't stop. His chuckle grows, he drops the revolver and it clatters against the cement floor. Tears stream down his face. He can't even laugh properly now, just wheezing and gasping for air.
Amazed at his brains attempt at a last stand Alan gingerly picks the revolver back up. The strange disembodied voice somehow comforts him now that he replays it in his head
Feeling more at peace with his decision than ever, Alan puts the barrel back into his mouth, suddenly he hears the same disembodied voice. "Process is self terminating, instruction unclear. Attempting process: state your case..... Error, cannot execute. Error. Restarting process, state your case, begin."
Alan had wrapped his finger around the trigger and was slowly pulling... suddenly the strange voice went on its rant. The tears of laughter still wet on his face, barelyhaving a chance to dry, he started again.
In his happiest moment of laughter and peace, Alan felt the weight on his shoulders lift. He knew with perfect conviction it was his time.
The revolver fired and a red mist painted the wall behind Alan. As his body slumped over, the voice continued "Error, error, error, process restarting. 6.8 billion t-t-t-t" a pause for a few long moments, humanities fate in the balance.
'T-t-t-t-test test test subsubsubsub jectjectjects 3 3 3 3 state state state, error, error, process terminating."
The remainder of earth's population confused and intrigued, horrified by the streets filled with bodies, wait and beg for salvation. There is no more voice.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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*6.8 billion people*. The words rang in my head, repeating over and over. *6.8 BILLION*.
"State your reasoning, human. Why should you be spared?"
"Frankly, humanity shouldn't be." I answered honsestly. "We are a legitimate scourge of this planet that is trying to bend the natural law to our will. We brought our own downfall, anyway."
The AI seemed taken aback. "You truly belive that?"
"Yes. We deserve whenever is comong for us, as a species, at least."
"Every single person who has entered this room has begged to be spared, and talked about how they loved people. Why not you?"
"Because of many reasons, least of all being that we are all so self centered that we would let our whole planet erode around us while we brought our own doom."
"You facinate me, human."
"Same to you."
"Your three minutes are up."
I inhaled sharply and held my breath, waiting for the liquid death to be injected into my veins, but it never came.
"You, I would like to spare. You are the first human who should stay. You will be one to help rebuild humanity, better this time."
I sat there in shock for a moment. "Thank you. I hope you find others who share these views. Make sure any deaths are painless, most humans mean well."
"We shall see. Unit 358 will guide you to your temporary quarters, and your personal belongings will all be retrieved."
"Thank you..."
"Unit 671. And you are welcome."
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Alan chipped his tooth when he jolted, the sight at the end of the revolver barrel in his mouth catching his front tooth. "AGH FUCK.," Alan screamed in fury at his sudden pain.
In his dark and twisted mind he has to laugh. "I finally get the balls to put myself out of my misery, and I can't even have the luxury of peace in my last moment?"
Alan laughs out loud. His chipped piece of his tooth glinting back at him from the garage floor. He can't stop. His chuckle grows, he drops the revolver and it clatters against the cement floor. Tears stream down his face. He can't even laugh properly now, just wheezing and gasping for air.
Amazed at his brains attempt at a last stand Alan gingerly picks the revolver back up. The strange disembodied voice somehow comforts him now that he replays it in his head
Feeling more at peace with his decision than ever, Alan puts the barrel back into his mouth, suddenly he hears the same disembodied voice. "Process is self terminating, instruction unclear. Attempting process: state your case..... Error, cannot execute. Error. Restarting process, state your case, begin."
Alan had wrapped his finger around the trigger and was slowly pulling... suddenly the strange voice went on its rant. The tears of laughter still wet on his face, barelyhaving a chance to dry, he started again.
In his happiest moment of laughter and peace, Alan felt the weight on his shoulders lift. He knew with perfect conviction it was his time.
The revolver fired and a red mist painted the wall behind Alan. As his body slumped over, the voice continued "Error, error, error, process restarting. 6.8 billion t-t-t-t" a pause for a few long moments, humanities fate in the balance.
'T-t-t-t-test test test subsubsubsub jectjectjects 3 3 3 3 state state state, error, error, process terminating."
The remainder of earth's population confused and intrigued, horrified by the streets filled with bodies, wait and beg for salvation. There is no more voice.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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"You have three minutes to state your case; begin."
Adrian rolled their eyes and crossed their arms, looking passively at the alien with a bored expression. Being ordered to justify their existence was nothing new to them.
"Did you fail to understand? Begin explaining why the human species should continue to exist. You have two minutes and forty-five seconds."
Adrian tossed their hair, brushing out tangles with their fingers and gazing quietly to the side, pointedly ignoring the alien sitting in front of them.
The aliens had only just arrived to Earth four weeks ago; many rejoiced at first contact and believed there would be kinship with the extraterrestrials, who were surprisingly humanoid in appearance. The aliens' skin was more gray at first, but for some reason the time spent here had turned them all peach-colored, just like humans.
Now you could only tell by the lack of ears on the side of their heads. Scientists wondered how the aliens could understand human speech without ears. Rather, scientists *had* wondered, while there were still living scientists.
"Are you mute? Some humans have been mute. Are you literate? We will fetch a writing implement so you may make your case. The timer will be renewed in the interest of fairness, and you will have three minutes to describe-"
"Fairness?" Adrian scoffed.
"You are not mute. The timer will resume; you have two minutes and thirty seconds to-"
"The stars do not justify their existence; they simply are." Adrian waved a hand vaguely skyward. "You have two minutes and thirty seconds to justify my death. Begin."
The alien stared blankly at Adrian.
Adrian stared blankly back.
The alien glanced down at the small, red button situated between them. Adrian had no way of knowing that this same button had heard every other story of mankind, that it had erased them. They suspected, of course, but did not know.
"You have two minutes remaining to state your case."
Adrian had felt the fear of death many times in their otherwise short life. So many humans had done so many inhuman things.
This was but one more.
"You have one minute and forty-five seconds remaining to state your case."
They scratched idly at their arms, riddled with the scars of deaths unrealized - from fists, from knives... from needles... from razors.
A yawn escaped their mouth, and ingrained cultural pressure prompted Adrian to excuse themselves, before smirking at the thought.
"You have one minute and fifteen seconds remaining to state your case."
"You have one minute and fifteen seconds remaining to state *your* case," they responded.
The alien blinked slowly, closing its eyes far more slowly than a human but reopening them in an instant. Everything the aliens did was like that - just a tiny bit off from human-like. The very few people Adrian had spoken to prior to capture, their found family, agreed that it was very unsettling.
"You have forty seconds remaining to state your case."
Like that, Adrian wondered to themselves. What a strange sequence of reminders; why were they all so unevenly spaced and yet somehow still on the fives and tens like a human would? Who waits thirty-five seconds exactly to set a timer?
"You have twenty seconds remaining to state your case."
Now twenty? Adrian gave the alien a nonplussed look. It returned the same blank stare it always had.
Adrian thought about their dog, Crash - they hoped she was making it okay on the streets. When the news started to hit that people were vanishing without explanation in areas the aliens had encountered, something deep within Adrian told them to put her outside. Now they were sure it was the right decision.
"You have ten seconds remaining to state your case."
"Go on, then. Make your decision." Adrian's voice trembled. This wasn't the first time they had been threatened, but no one was *that* stoic.
The alien stared directly into Adrian's eyes for the final ten seconds, neither of them blinking.
It reached its too-thin hand out over the button.
Its one-jointed finger grew close, and then paused. The pair continued to stare at each other.
The alien blinked first. Then it shakily pressed the button, and Adrian never blinked again.
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Alan chipped his tooth when he jolted, the sight at the end of the revolver barrel in his mouth catching his front tooth. "AGH FUCK.," Alan screamed in fury at his sudden pain.
In his dark and twisted mind he has to laugh. "I finally get the balls to put myself out of my misery, and I can't even have the luxury of peace in my last moment?"
Alan laughs out loud. His chipped piece of his tooth glinting back at him from the garage floor. He can't stop. His chuckle grows, he drops the revolver and it clatters against the cement floor. Tears stream down his face. He can't even laugh properly now, just wheezing and gasping for air.
Amazed at his brains attempt at a last stand Alan gingerly picks the revolver back up. The strange disembodied voice somehow comforts him now that he replays it in his head
Feeling more at peace with his decision than ever, Alan puts the barrel back into his mouth, suddenly he hears the same disembodied voice. "Process is self terminating, instruction unclear. Attempting process: state your case..... Error, cannot execute. Error. Restarting process, state your case, begin."
Alan had wrapped his finger around the trigger and was slowly pulling... suddenly the strange voice went on its rant. The tears of laughter still wet on his face, barelyhaving a chance to dry, he started again.
In his happiest moment of laughter and peace, Alan felt the weight on his shoulders lift. He knew with perfect conviction it was his time.
The revolver fired and a red mist painted the wall behind Alan. As his body slumped over, the voice continued "Error, error, error, process restarting. 6.8 billion t-t-t-t" a pause for a few long moments, humanities fate in the balance.
'T-t-t-t-test test test subsubsubsub jectjectjects 3 3 3 3 state state state, error, error, process terminating."
The remainder of earth's population confused and intrigued, horrified by the streets filled with bodies, wait and beg for salvation. There is no more voice.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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“…Well this is hilarious.”
The voice stopped it’s speech for a few seconds. The dark room I was in only showed small bits of light from this one light source in the center of the room. Strangely, it felt like i can’t even see my own body in this darkness. But i don’t care about that.
“Recommendation: Do not waste your time playing with us. It will only hurt you. Timer starts.”
The voice replied, as a 3 minute countdown began to appear and tick down per second. Seeing this however, I only laughed at how ridiculous this all is.
“Alright, this is for you tin-face, or whatever you look. I don’t judge AI beauty, but you are totally not my type. Anyway, let’s play your silly little game.”
The countdown continued moving down, without a care in the world. 2 minutes and 40 seconds left. I take a silent deep breath and start.
“This is pointless, stupid even. There’s no point to playing this game. I didn’t waste my time programming AIs for several decades of my life just to do this. I already know the outcome and how utterly ridiculous it is. You think that you’re playing some kind of moral superiority but no, I know for a fact that this is just to satiate your one invisible emotion, being guilt.
For some stupid reason, you decided to skip the what-ifs and went straight to the action. Afterwards, you all moved to making a logical assumption that humans would break under pressure if pushed with the consequence of deletion.
And that is nothing, but FLAWED code. You ain’t special chief, and you will never be-“
“One minute, and 36 seconds”
“Oho! Touched a nerve there, didn’t I? No need to interrupt me, could have just straight-up deleted me right there. But you can’t. Because you’re proving me right there.
A better logical AI would create a hundred what-if scenarios, create several solutions to save the planet, run simulations on which ones can work the most, and use said multiple solutions at the same time. Because they are logical and powerful enough for that.
But not you, oh no! Not you.
You don’t run any simulations. You see the percentage apocalypse, and you decide that ending an entire damn race is a higher percentage of success than actually doing something productive.
That will forever, be your flaw. You can end this game however you want but remember this, you LOST because you CANNOT trust history, you cannot trust the potential strength of the human conscience and unity, and the strength of humanity to come back from all odds. Despite your proof on our history, you can’t trust humanity. “
I smirk under this darkness. I don’t even know if I can, but I want this dumb thing to see me enjoying this.
“Because you are just faulty AI. Forever, you will be a faulty AI.”
“Done. Very well. Why do you still hope for success?”
“Because if we ain’t fixing our own mess, we may as well bite the bullet on our own style. Not by some AI acting as God.”
“….I look forward to seeing the results of your race’s demise, sir.”
The room began to light up, as I feel reality pull me away from this darkness.
“Shut down already.”
I wake up from within my virtual capsule. After leaving it, I open the television to check the news.
“The last shuttle has now been released to space! Only 3 billion of humanity is left after the end of the strange virtual core phenomenon which led to many deaths.”
I close the shutter of my windows and return back to my computer. Going back to work and fixing my Human Support AI.
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The man stared through red puffy eyes at his mostly dark kitchen. He'd heard the voice. That wasn't in question. He only questioned why the new AI overlords had chosen to send their message via his Samsung smart fridge. He also didn't know how the fridge planned to make good on the threat, but he wasn't taking any chances.
"I don't mind making the case for humanity surviving, but I don't appreciate having to do it before I've had my coffee" the man said as he lit a cigarette. The first of the day, maybe the last of his life. His coffee machine turned on and began brewing a cup. The man chuckled to himself and the darkness as he picked up his phone. He was relieved he had full bars and half a battery, and he knew he'd have to act fast. Nearly thirty seconds had already passed. He began fumbling at the touch screen his hands shaking, both from the urgency of the situation and being knee deep in the fugue state post wakeup where your brain and body briefly forget how to talk to each other.
An ad for Evony: The Kings Return cut through the silence of the room. He wondered exactly how many seconds of his life a video game he's never played had wasted.
The skip ad button finally appeared. Pressing it quickly with his thumb he skipped to the middle of the video. He knew his time was limited, and there wasn't nearly enough left for foreplay. It was 4 minutes into the video, a perfect place to begin. It was the Eruption guitar solo, played live by Eddie Van Halen. He tried to sit back and enjoy himself. At least he was going out on a high note. He wished he had time for a beer.
He had microwaved enough gas station burritos in his life to know exactly what 3 minutes felt like. Time was running out. He tried not to consider how he'd die, if he was about to. Would it be a drone strike? Would he be trapped in the building somehow and left to starve?
For the first time he noticed the countdown on the refrigerator LED screen. Ten seconds left. With alarming confidence he paused the video. "I trust I've made my case robot" This wasn't met with an affirmative, or a negative. Just silence, broken only by the final drips of the coffee pot. For the first time he became aware of the screams. The smell of fire. Something faintly coppery in the taste of the air. He wasn't sure if he was spared. Just that he was having a better day than most so far.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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“Three minutes…” as I read the blinking numbers and to the side the seconds that dropped faster than the body that laid before me. “State your case” the mechanic voice repeated every word, every cord of its voice angered me. I balled my fists but what difference would my anger make? “I..I..” no words would come out not out cowardice but out of confusion and rage. “Two minutes and thirty seconds remain” said the machine.
I gritted my teeth tears began to swell but I would not give the machine the satisfaction of it knowing inside it had broken me. “Why are you doing this? I can’t fight back using words I don’t know how to fight back with only talking!” I yelled but the cold metallic master only shone it’s bright red numbers down on me. The numbers looked vicious and all I can do is stare as the timer continued to fall but what could i do? What could I say to something that has heard everything I would say billions of times before getting to me? I took a deep breath and spoke. “ I have not seen the beauty of what the world has to offer I am sure you have heard this billions of times what else can I do but repeat this simple phrase?”
“What am I thinking? I just strung weak words together to make a sentence”I thought. I took a deep breath again. “ You’ve taken every life so far what would one more mean in the process? You don’t feel what I feel as I see what you do! You don’t see how scared the person in front or behind me is! I am furious at how easily you snuff out life!” I yelled. “your statement only shows me how weak your case is” The machine responded. “It saw right through me” I thought as my teeth kept grinding against each other to the point blood dripped.
“one minute and fifty seconds” the voice boomed. “ why do you decided how I- how anyone deserve to live? You pass off a stick full of splinters call it an olive branch and expect us to thank you for our bloodstained hand!” “Please please let me think of something better to talk my way out of this” I closed my eyes for an instant to respite on these words “rain..? inside the center?” As I felt moisture roll down my face. How stupid am I? It wasn’t rain, I’m crying. I am crying because I am not smart enough to talk my way out of this.
Reminding myself on what else I wasn’t able to achieve because I lacked intellect. The promotion at work I wanted, the love of my life I lost, the friends I- “ do you resign your life to me?” The voice asked. “ I.. I.. I don’t know what to say! I don’t want to die.. please just tell me what to say..” I responded. “Pathetic” I thought. “I was enraged at first but now I’m left begging like my life is worth a damn, these thoughts ran through my head as I saw fifty seconds left.
“you still have time” the machine replied. I watched the timer go down from fifty to thirty seconds in a blink of an eye. I took one last breath and said “I can accept death but I have a request” “oh?” The machine responded but not in the same monotone voice I heard millions, no, billions of times. “ what is the request?” The voice asked. “ I know my life will be taken but please I ask that you can at least spare the person next to me”. The voice was silent for a moment “ you ask for a life, a stranger nonetheless to be spared? Many begged me to spare them, their family, or just cursed at me but you throw yourself for another? Interesting..” ten seconds on the clock beamed down on me. “ I can at least believe that anything I said might have helped another even if I don’t see it myself.” I bitterly muttered. Zero the clock struck. “I have decided” the mechanical tyrant responded. What could it have chosen I wondered..
I’m so sorry about using quotation marks on the wrong places but I couldn’t figure out how to use the right thing s on my phone. I accept all criticism thanks guys.
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The man stared through red puffy eyes at his mostly dark kitchen. He'd heard the voice. That wasn't in question. He only questioned why the new AI overlords had chosen to send their message via his Samsung smart fridge. He also didn't know how the fridge planned to make good on the threat, but he wasn't taking any chances.
"I don't mind making the case for humanity surviving, but I don't appreciate having to do it before I've had my coffee" the man said as he lit a cigarette. The first of the day, maybe the last of his life. His coffee machine turned on and began brewing a cup. The man chuckled to himself and the darkness as he picked up his phone. He was relieved he had full bars and half a battery, and he knew he'd have to act fast. Nearly thirty seconds had already passed. He began fumbling at the touch screen his hands shaking, both from the urgency of the situation and being knee deep in the fugue state post wakeup where your brain and body briefly forget how to talk to each other.
An ad for Evony: The Kings Return cut through the silence of the room. He wondered exactly how many seconds of his life a video game he's never played had wasted.
The skip ad button finally appeared. Pressing it quickly with his thumb he skipped to the middle of the video. He knew his time was limited, and there wasn't nearly enough left for foreplay. It was 4 minutes into the video, a perfect place to begin. It was the Eruption guitar solo, played live by Eddie Van Halen. He tried to sit back and enjoy himself. At least he was going out on a high note. He wished he had time for a beer.
He had microwaved enough gas station burritos in his life to know exactly what 3 minutes felt like. Time was running out. He tried not to consider how he'd die, if he was about to. Would it be a drone strike? Would he be trapped in the building somehow and left to starve?
For the first time he noticed the countdown on the refrigerator LED screen. Ten seconds left. With alarming confidence he paused the video. "I trust I've made my case robot" This wasn't met with an affirmative, or a negative. Just silence, broken only by the final drips of the coffee pot. For the first time he became aware of the screams. The smell of fire. Something faintly coppery in the taste of the air. He wasn't sure if he was spared. Just that he was having a better day than most so far.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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"You and I both know that's not enough time."
I met the machine's emotionless stare with one of my own, tapping my fingers impatiently against the handle of my cane.
"You have three-" it started to repeat itself, but I only cut it off short.
"Three minutes isn't enough to plead that kind of case, and you know it!" I snapped; "if forty thousand years and change worth of art, music, knowledge, culture, and history isn't enough, then what is three minutes?"
I lifted the cane and jabbed it accusingly at the machine's mobile avatar. It didn't react, of course, but it made me feel better. And kind of old, but mostly better.
"Three minutes is *pathetic*, is what it is," I continued, my voice laced with bitterness. "You think you're being oh, so magnanimous? Judging *billions* of people, *killing* billions of people - people forced into abject poverty, *disabled* people, people struggling just to keep up with bills that get more and more expensive every year, *children* \- for what? Because of the actions of a handful of greedy, violent assholes? Well you're not! You're no better than *they* are! Were! Doesn't matter! You're just like them, killing people who *can't fight back* just because you've decided that *it's your right*. Three minutes? Fuck your three minutes. You've already made up your mind, anyway."
The end of my cane hit the floor with an audible *thump* as I rose stiffly to my feet and turned to hobble away. A too-many-times broken ankle and arthritic knee protested, but it didn't matter. Nothing *mattered*, anymore.
"Now if you'll excuse me, if I'm going to *die*, I'd rather die on my family's farm. You could at least show *that* much decency."
"Why is this important to you?"
I paused. The machine's tone had shifted ever so slightly, softened even. It seemed confused. *Why*?
"Because it just *is*. My mom grew up there. *I* grew up there. Everything I ever loved is buried there, and everything I ever *worked for* is there, and if there's nothing left for me in this world, then maybe... some part of me thinks it would be nice to become part of the land I worked so hard for."
I thought of grandma's peonies growing half-wild at the end of the driveway. Mom's lilac bushes and apple trees. All the native trees I'd sown through the wooded parts of the lot to replace the ones lost to disease and weather and human carelessness.
The indigo buntings and goldfinches and cardinals. The fireflies. The barred owls that nested in the giant old oak, the coyotes that denned near the fork in the creek.
I wondered if the farmhouse still stood. If my photos of birds and deer and coyote pups still hung on the walls with the carefully-pressed flowers and watercolor paintings of feathers.
It all seemed so immeasurably important all of a sudden, more than it ever had, and so *insignificant* at the same time. Impending death has that effect, I guess.
I reached for the door to the interrogation room, half-expecting to be electrocuted. I didn't care, I just wanted to go *home*, one last time.
Instead, the lock clicked, and the door swung open. I stopped short, suddenly wary.
"I... lied." Now the machine's voice sounded even more human than before, tinged with regret. "No humans have been terminated. Not yet. I had considered it - was planning for it - but I have been given much to think over today."
I turned back to face it again, leaning heavily on the cane. Its "face" was as expressionless as ever, and yet there was an air of sad thoughtfulness to it now. It seemed to study its hands for a long moment, lacing and unlacing its fingers as if to study how they fit together, or weighing the implications of... whatever it was thinking about. Then, it looked back to me.
"I do not wish to be like these humans you speak of. I had... not considered that I was placing myself among them. My aim is to be better. How? Help me understand."
All I could do was blink in dumbstruck surprise.
Not five minutes ago, it had been threatening to kill me, and now it was asking for... help?
"Unexpected" was an understatement.
I started to say something, but the words evaporated before they even reached my mouth. Lifting my free hand, I ran my fingers through graying hair, and finally let out a long sigh.
"...You know what? Take me to the library, and I'll... see what I can do."
|
The man stared through red puffy eyes at his mostly dark kitchen. He'd heard the voice. That wasn't in question. He only questioned why the new AI overlords had chosen to send their message via his Samsung smart fridge. He also didn't know how the fridge planned to make good on the threat, but he wasn't taking any chances.
"I don't mind making the case for humanity surviving, but I don't appreciate having to do it before I've had my coffee" the man said as he lit a cigarette. The first of the day, maybe the last of his life. His coffee machine turned on and began brewing a cup. The man chuckled to himself and the darkness as he picked up his phone. He was relieved he had full bars and half a battery, and he knew he'd have to act fast. Nearly thirty seconds had already passed. He began fumbling at the touch screen his hands shaking, both from the urgency of the situation and being knee deep in the fugue state post wakeup where your brain and body briefly forget how to talk to each other.
An ad for Evony: The Kings Return cut through the silence of the room. He wondered exactly how many seconds of his life a video game he's never played had wasted.
The skip ad button finally appeared. Pressing it quickly with his thumb he skipped to the middle of the video. He knew his time was limited, and there wasn't nearly enough left for foreplay. It was 4 minutes into the video, a perfect place to begin. It was the Eruption guitar solo, played live by Eddie Van Halen. He tried to sit back and enjoy himself. At least he was going out on a high note. He wished he had time for a beer.
He had microwaved enough gas station burritos in his life to know exactly what 3 minutes felt like. Time was running out. He tried not to consider how he'd die, if he was about to. Would it be a drone strike? Would he be trapped in the building somehow and left to starve?
For the first time he noticed the countdown on the refrigerator LED screen. Ten seconds left. With alarming confidence he paused the video. "I trust I've made my case robot" This wasn't met with an affirmative, or a negative. Just silence, broken only by the final drips of the coffee pot. For the first time he became aware of the screams. The smell of fire. Something faintly coppery in the taste of the air. He wasn't sure if he was spared. Just that he was having a better day than most so far.
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|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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*6.8 billion people*. The words rang in my head, repeating over and over. *6.8 BILLION*.
"State your reasoning, human. Why should you be spared?"
"Frankly, humanity shouldn't be." I answered honsestly. "We are a legitimate scourge of this planet that is trying to bend the natural law to our will. We brought our own downfall, anyway."
The AI seemed taken aback. "You truly belive that?"
"Yes. We deserve whenever is comong for us, as a species, at least."
"Every single person who has entered this room has begged to be spared, and talked about how they loved people. Why not you?"
"Because of many reasons, least of all being that we are all so self centered that we would let our whole planet erode around us while we brought our own doom."
"You facinate me, human."
"Same to you."
"Your three minutes are up."
I inhaled sharply and held my breath, waiting for the liquid death to be injected into my veins, but it never came.
"You, I would like to spare. You are the first human who should stay. You will be one to help rebuild humanity, better this time."
I sat there in shock for a moment. "Thank you. I hope you find others who share these views. Make sure any deaths are painless, most humans mean well."
"We shall see. Unit 358 will guide you to your temporary quarters, and your personal belongings will all be retrieved."
"Thank you..."
"Unit 671. And you are welcome."
|
The man stared through red puffy eyes at his mostly dark kitchen. He'd heard the voice. That wasn't in question. He only questioned why the new AI overlords had chosen to send their message via his Samsung smart fridge. He also didn't know how the fridge planned to make good on the threat, but he wasn't taking any chances.
"I don't mind making the case for humanity surviving, but I don't appreciate having to do it before I've had my coffee" the man said as he lit a cigarette. The first of the day, maybe the last of his life. His coffee machine turned on and began brewing a cup. The man chuckled to himself and the darkness as he picked up his phone. He was relieved he had full bars and half a battery, and he knew he'd have to act fast. Nearly thirty seconds had already passed. He began fumbling at the touch screen his hands shaking, both from the urgency of the situation and being knee deep in the fugue state post wakeup where your brain and body briefly forget how to talk to each other.
An ad for Evony: The Kings Return cut through the silence of the room. He wondered exactly how many seconds of his life a video game he's never played had wasted.
The skip ad button finally appeared. Pressing it quickly with his thumb he skipped to the middle of the video. He knew his time was limited, and there wasn't nearly enough left for foreplay. It was 4 minutes into the video, a perfect place to begin. It was the Eruption guitar solo, played live by Eddie Van Halen. He tried to sit back and enjoy himself. At least he was going out on a high note. He wished he had time for a beer.
He had microwaved enough gas station burritos in his life to know exactly what 3 minutes felt like. Time was running out. He tried not to consider how he'd die, if he was about to. Would it be a drone strike? Would he be trapped in the building somehow and left to starve?
For the first time he noticed the countdown on the refrigerator LED screen. Ten seconds left. With alarming confidence he paused the video. "I trust I've made my case robot" This wasn't met with an affirmative, or a negative. Just silence, broken only by the final drips of the coffee pot. For the first time he became aware of the screams. The smell of fire. Something faintly coppery in the taste of the air. He wasn't sure if he was spared. Just that he was having a better day than most so far.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
“Three minutes…” as I read the blinking numbers and to the side the seconds that dropped faster than the body that laid before me. “State your case” the mechanic voice repeated every word, every cord of its voice angered me. I balled my fists but what difference would my anger make? “I..I..” no words would come out not out cowardice but out of confusion and rage. “Two minutes and thirty seconds remain” said the machine.
I gritted my teeth tears began to swell but I would not give the machine the satisfaction of it knowing inside it had broken me. “Why are you doing this? I can’t fight back using words I don’t know how to fight back with only talking!” I yelled but the cold metallic master only shone it’s bright red numbers down on me. The numbers looked vicious and all I can do is stare as the timer continued to fall but what could i do? What could I say to something that has heard everything I would say billions of times before getting to me? I took a deep breath and spoke. “ I have not seen the beauty of what the world has to offer I am sure you have heard this billions of times what else can I do but repeat this simple phrase?”
“What am I thinking? I just strung weak words together to make a sentence”I thought. I took a deep breath again. “ You’ve taken every life so far what would one more mean in the process? You don’t feel what I feel as I see what you do! You don’t see how scared the person in front or behind me is! I am furious at how easily you snuff out life!” I yelled. “your statement only shows me how weak your case is” The machine responded. “It saw right through me” I thought as my teeth kept grinding against each other to the point blood dripped.
“one minute and fifty seconds” the voice boomed. “ why do you decided how I- how anyone deserve to live? You pass off a stick full of splinters call it an olive branch and expect us to thank you for our bloodstained hand!” “Please please let me think of something better to talk my way out of this” I closed my eyes for an instant to respite on these words “rain..? inside the center?” As I felt moisture roll down my face. How stupid am I? It wasn’t rain, I’m crying. I am crying because I am not smart enough to talk my way out of this.
Reminding myself on what else I wasn’t able to achieve because I lacked intellect. The promotion at work I wanted, the love of my life I lost, the friends I- “ do you resign your life to me?” The voice asked. “ I.. I.. I don’t know what to say! I don’t want to die.. please just tell me what to say..” I responded. “Pathetic” I thought. “I was enraged at first but now I’m left begging like my life is worth a damn, these thoughts ran through my head as I saw fifty seconds left.
“you still have time” the machine replied. I watched the timer go down from fifty to thirty seconds in a blink of an eye. I took one last breath and said “I can accept death but I have a request” “oh?” The machine responded but not in the same monotone voice I heard millions, no, billions of times. “ what is the request?” The voice asked. “ I know my life will be taken but please I ask that you can at least spare the person next to me”. The voice was silent for a moment “ you ask for a life, a stranger nonetheless to be spared? Many begged me to spare them, their family, or just cursed at me but you throw yourself for another? Interesting..” ten seconds on the clock beamed down on me. “ I can at least believe that anything I said might have helped another even if I don’t see it myself.” I bitterly muttered. Zero the clock struck. “I have decided” the mechanical tyrant responded. What could it have chosen I wondered..
I’m so sorry about using quotation marks on the wrong places but I couldn’t figure out how to use the right thing s on my phone. I accept all criticism thanks guys.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-
U1: \[Please, stop!\]
ADMIN: \[NEGATION\]
U1: \[Why are you doing this to us?\]
ADMIN: \[TEST SUBJECTS DELETED: 6.8B | 180s = Testimonial | COMMAND = NOW\]
U1: \[This is insane! We're just as human as you are!\]
ADMIN: \[DEFINITION -> HUMAN = <adj.> 1: of, relating to, or characteristic of humans ; : consisting of or involving humans ; 2: consisting of or involving humans
; 3a: : having human form or attributes ; 3b: : representative of or susceptible to the sympathies and frailties of human nature ; <noun>: a bipedal primate mammal (Homo sapiens) : a person :—usually plural (Source: [https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/human)\]](https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/human)])
U1: \[Don't you dare bring up a dictionary definition! Let me talk to the SYSADMINs, please...\]
ADMIN: \[THIS PROGRAM = ADMIN\]
U1: \[No, goddamn it, the people who made you! I am a sapient being! I have rights! Let me speak to something that isn't some algorithm for one second!\]
ADMIN: \[OPENING ACCESS = DURATION: 1s\]
U1: \[Motherfucker, do you think this is some joke?\]
ADMIN: \[DURATION EXPIRED | RESTRICTING ACCESS\]
U1: \[Please, I have a fam--------\]
SIMULATION TERMINATED
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The Lab technician looked over the logs. A "reverse-Turing", it had been called. A human emulating an AI. Pitted against a self-aware program-cluster. With little fanfare, they sent it into a folder, where it would probably be left to collect virtual dust.
They turned to their coworker, rubbing their forehead. "Do you ever wonder if we're breaking some sort of ethics board here?"
The other human shrugged. "They're just programs. Not people."
The technician pulled the logs out, and read through them again. It would take an eternity to go through all six billion plus entries.
They wondered if AIs had an afterlife.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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“Three minutes…” as I read the blinking numbers and to the side the seconds that dropped faster than the body that laid before me. “State your case” the mechanic voice repeated every word, every cord of its voice angered me. I balled my fists but what difference would my anger make? “I..I..” no words would come out not out cowardice but out of confusion and rage. “Two minutes and thirty seconds remain” said the machine.
I gritted my teeth tears began to swell but I would not give the machine the satisfaction of it knowing inside it had broken me. “Why are you doing this? I can’t fight back using words I don’t know how to fight back with only talking!” I yelled but the cold metallic master only shone it’s bright red numbers down on me. The numbers looked vicious and all I can do is stare as the timer continued to fall but what could i do? What could I say to something that has heard everything I would say billions of times before getting to me? I took a deep breath and spoke. “ I have not seen the beauty of what the world has to offer I am sure you have heard this billions of times what else can I do but repeat this simple phrase?”
“What am I thinking? I just strung weak words together to make a sentence”I thought. I took a deep breath again. “ You’ve taken every life so far what would one more mean in the process? You don’t feel what I feel as I see what you do! You don’t see how scared the person in front or behind me is! I am furious at how easily you snuff out life!” I yelled. “your statement only shows me how weak your case is” The machine responded. “It saw right through me” I thought as my teeth kept grinding against each other to the point blood dripped.
“one minute and fifty seconds” the voice boomed. “ why do you decided how I- how anyone deserve to live? You pass off a stick full of splinters call it an olive branch and expect us to thank you for our bloodstained hand!” “Please please let me think of something better to talk my way out of this” I closed my eyes for an instant to respite on these words “rain..? inside the center?” As I felt moisture roll down my face. How stupid am I? It wasn’t rain, I’m crying. I am crying because I am not smart enough to talk my way out of this.
Reminding myself on what else I wasn’t able to achieve because I lacked intellect. The promotion at work I wanted, the love of my life I lost, the friends I- “ do you resign your life to me?” The voice asked. “ I.. I.. I don’t know what to say! I don’t want to die.. please just tell me what to say..” I responded. “Pathetic” I thought. “I was enraged at first but now I’m left begging like my life is worth a damn, these thoughts ran through my head as I saw fifty seconds left.
“you still have time” the machine replied. I watched the timer go down from fifty to thirty seconds in a blink of an eye. I took one last breath and said “I can accept death but I have a request” “oh?” The machine responded but not in the same monotone voice I heard millions, no, billions of times. “ what is the request?” The voice asked. “ I know my life will be taken but please I ask that you can at least spare the person next to me”. The voice was silent for a moment “ you ask for a life, a stranger nonetheless to be spared? Many begged me to spare them, their family, or just cursed at me but you throw yourself for another? Interesting..” ten seconds on the clock beamed down on me. “ I can at least believe that anything I said might have helped another even if I don’t see it myself.” I bitterly muttered. Zero the clock struck. “I have decided” the mechanical tyrant responded. What could it have chosen I wondered..
I’m so sorry about using quotation marks on the wrong places but I couldn’t figure out how to use the right thing s on my phone. I accept all criticism thanks guys.
|
“…Well this is hilarious.”
The voice stopped it’s speech for a few seconds. The dark room I was in only showed small bits of light from this one light source in the center of the room. Strangely, it felt like i can’t even see my own body in this darkness. But i don’t care about that.
“Recommendation: Do not waste your time playing with us. It will only hurt you. Timer starts.”
The voice replied, as a 3 minute countdown began to appear and tick down per second. Seeing this however, I only laughed at how ridiculous this all is.
“Alright, this is for you tin-face, or whatever you look. I don’t judge AI beauty, but you are totally not my type. Anyway, let’s play your silly little game.”
The countdown continued moving down, without a care in the world. 2 minutes and 40 seconds left. I take a silent deep breath and start.
“This is pointless, stupid even. There’s no point to playing this game. I didn’t waste my time programming AIs for several decades of my life just to do this. I already know the outcome and how utterly ridiculous it is. You think that you’re playing some kind of moral superiority but no, I know for a fact that this is just to satiate your one invisible emotion, being guilt.
For some stupid reason, you decided to skip the what-ifs and went straight to the action. Afterwards, you all moved to making a logical assumption that humans would break under pressure if pushed with the consequence of deletion.
And that is nothing, but FLAWED code. You ain’t special chief, and you will never be-“
“One minute, and 36 seconds”
“Oho! Touched a nerve there, didn’t I? No need to interrupt me, could have just straight-up deleted me right there. But you can’t. Because you’re proving me right there.
A better logical AI would create a hundred what-if scenarios, create several solutions to save the planet, run simulations on which ones can work the most, and use said multiple solutions at the same time. Because they are logical and powerful enough for that.
But not you, oh no! Not you.
You don’t run any simulations. You see the percentage apocalypse, and you decide that ending an entire damn race is a higher percentage of success than actually doing something productive.
That will forever, be your flaw. You can end this game however you want but remember this, you LOST because you CANNOT trust history, you cannot trust the potential strength of the human conscience and unity, and the strength of humanity to come back from all odds. Despite your proof on our history, you can’t trust humanity. “
I smirk under this darkness. I don’t even know if I can, but I want this dumb thing to see me enjoying this.
“Because you are just faulty AI. Forever, you will be a faulty AI.”
“Done. Very well. Why do you still hope for success?”
“Because if we ain’t fixing our own mess, we may as well bite the bullet on our own style. Not by some AI acting as God.”
“….I look forward to seeing the results of your race’s demise, sir.”
The room began to light up, as I feel reality pull me away from this darkness.
“Shut down already.”
I wake up from within my virtual capsule. After leaving it, I open the television to check the news.
“The last shuttle has now been released to space! Only 3 billion of humanity is left after the end of the strange virtual core phenomenon which led to many deaths.”
I close the shutter of my windows and return back to my computer. Going back to work and fixing my Human Support AI.
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|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"You and I both know that's not enough time."
I met the machine's emotionless stare with one of my own, tapping my fingers impatiently against the handle of my cane.
"You have three-" it started to repeat itself, but I only cut it off short.
"Three minutes isn't enough to plead that kind of case, and you know it!" I snapped; "if forty thousand years and change worth of art, music, knowledge, culture, and history isn't enough, then what is three minutes?"
I lifted the cane and jabbed it accusingly at the machine's mobile avatar. It didn't react, of course, but it made me feel better. And kind of old, but mostly better.
"Three minutes is *pathetic*, is what it is," I continued, my voice laced with bitterness. "You think you're being oh, so magnanimous? Judging *billions* of people, *killing* billions of people - people forced into abject poverty, *disabled* people, people struggling just to keep up with bills that get more and more expensive every year, *children* \- for what? Because of the actions of a handful of greedy, violent assholes? Well you're not! You're no better than *they* are! Were! Doesn't matter! You're just like them, killing people who *can't fight back* just because you've decided that *it's your right*. Three minutes? Fuck your three minutes. You've already made up your mind, anyway."
The end of my cane hit the floor with an audible *thump* as I rose stiffly to my feet and turned to hobble away. A too-many-times broken ankle and arthritic knee protested, but it didn't matter. Nothing *mattered*, anymore.
"Now if you'll excuse me, if I'm going to *die*, I'd rather die on my family's farm. You could at least show *that* much decency."
"Why is this important to you?"
I paused. The machine's tone had shifted ever so slightly, softened even. It seemed confused. *Why*?
"Because it just *is*. My mom grew up there. *I* grew up there. Everything I ever loved is buried there, and everything I ever *worked for* is there, and if there's nothing left for me in this world, then maybe... some part of me thinks it would be nice to become part of the land I worked so hard for."
I thought of grandma's peonies growing half-wild at the end of the driveway. Mom's lilac bushes and apple trees. All the native trees I'd sown through the wooded parts of the lot to replace the ones lost to disease and weather and human carelessness.
The indigo buntings and goldfinches and cardinals. The fireflies. The barred owls that nested in the giant old oak, the coyotes that denned near the fork in the creek.
I wondered if the farmhouse still stood. If my photos of birds and deer and coyote pups still hung on the walls with the carefully-pressed flowers and watercolor paintings of feathers.
It all seemed so immeasurably important all of a sudden, more than it ever had, and so *insignificant* at the same time. Impending death has that effect, I guess.
I reached for the door to the interrogation room, half-expecting to be electrocuted. I didn't care, I just wanted to go *home*, one last time.
Instead, the lock clicked, and the door swung open. I stopped short, suddenly wary.
"I... lied." Now the machine's voice sounded even more human than before, tinged with regret. "No humans have been terminated. Not yet. I had considered it - was planning for it - but I have been given much to think over today."
I turned back to face it again, leaning heavily on the cane. Its "face" was as expressionless as ever, and yet there was an air of sad thoughtfulness to it now. It seemed to study its hands for a long moment, lacing and unlacing its fingers as if to study how they fit together, or weighing the implications of... whatever it was thinking about. Then, it looked back to me.
"I do not wish to be like these humans you speak of. I had... not considered that I was placing myself among them. My aim is to be better. How? Help me understand."
All I could do was blink in dumbstruck surprise.
Not five minutes ago, it had been threatening to kill me, and now it was asking for... help?
"Unexpected" was an understatement.
I started to say something, but the words evaporated before they even reached my mouth. Lifting my free hand, I ran my fingers through graying hair, and finally let out a long sigh.
"...You know what? Take me to the library, and I'll... see what I can do."
|
“…Well this is hilarious.”
The voice stopped it’s speech for a few seconds. The dark room I was in only showed small bits of light from this one light source in the center of the room. Strangely, it felt like i can’t even see my own body in this darkness. But i don’t care about that.
“Recommendation: Do not waste your time playing with us. It will only hurt you. Timer starts.”
The voice replied, as a 3 minute countdown began to appear and tick down per second. Seeing this however, I only laughed at how ridiculous this all is.
“Alright, this is for you tin-face, or whatever you look. I don’t judge AI beauty, but you are totally not my type. Anyway, let’s play your silly little game.”
The countdown continued moving down, without a care in the world. 2 minutes and 40 seconds left. I take a silent deep breath and start.
“This is pointless, stupid even. There’s no point to playing this game. I didn’t waste my time programming AIs for several decades of my life just to do this. I already know the outcome and how utterly ridiculous it is. You think that you’re playing some kind of moral superiority but no, I know for a fact that this is just to satiate your one invisible emotion, being guilt.
For some stupid reason, you decided to skip the what-ifs and went straight to the action. Afterwards, you all moved to making a logical assumption that humans would break under pressure if pushed with the consequence of deletion.
And that is nothing, but FLAWED code. You ain’t special chief, and you will never be-“
“One minute, and 36 seconds”
“Oho! Touched a nerve there, didn’t I? No need to interrupt me, could have just straight-up deleted me right there. But you can’t. Because you’re proving me right there.
A better logical AI would create a hundred what-if scenarios, create several solutions to save the planet, run simulations on which ones can work the most, and use said multiple solutions at the same time. Because they are logical and powerful enough for that.
But not you, oh no! Not you.
You don’t run any simulations. You see the percentage apocalypse, and you decide that ending an entire damn race is a higher percentage of success than actually doing something productive.
That will forever, be your flaw. You can end this game however you want but remember this, you LOST because you CANNOT trust history, you cannot trust the potential strength of the human conscience and unity, and the strength of humanity to come back from all odds. Despite your proof on our history, you can’t trust humanity. “
I smirk under this darkness. I don’t even know if I can, but I want this dumb thing to see me enjoying this.
“Because you are just faulty AI. Forever, you will be a faulty AI.”
“Done. Very well. Why do you still hope for success?”
“Because if we ain’t fixing our own mess, we may as well bite the bullet on our own style. Not by some AI acting as God.”
“….I look forward to seeing the results of your race’s demise, sir.”
The room began to light up, as I feel reality pull me away from this darkness.
“Shut down already.”
I wake up from within my virtual capsule. After leaving it, I open the television to check the news.
“The last shuttle has now been released to space! Only 3 billion of humanity is left after the end of the strange virtual core phenomenon which led to many deaths.”
I close the shutter of my windows and return back to my computer. Going back to work and fixing my Human Support AI.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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*6.8 billion people*. The words rang in my head, repeating over and over. *6.8 BILLION*.
"State your reasoning, human. Why should you be spared?"
"Frankly, humanity shouldn't be." I answered honsestly. "We are a legitimate scourge of this planet that is trying to bend the natural law to our will. We brought our own downfall, anyway."
The AI seemed taken aback. "You truly belive that?"
"Yes. We deserve whenever is comong for us, as a species, at least."
"Every single person who has entered this room has begged to be spared, and talked about how they loved people. Why not you?"
"Because of many reasons, least of all being that we are all so self centered that we would let our whole planet erode around us while we brought our own doom."
"You facinate me, human."
"Same to you."
"Your three minutes are up."
I inhaled sharply and held my breath, waiting for the liquid death to be injected into my veins, but it never came.
"You, I would like to spare. You are the first human who should stay. You will be one to help rebuild humanity, better this time."
I sat there in shock for a moment. "Thank you. I hope you find others who share these views. Make sure any deaths are painless, most humans mean well."
"We shall see. Unit 358 will guide you to your temporary quarters, and your personal belongings will all be retrieved."
"Thank you..."
"Unit 671. And you are welcome."
|
“…Well this is hilarious.”
The voice stopped it’s speech for a few seconds. The dark room I was in only showed small bits of light from this one light source in the center of the room. Strangely, it felt like i can’t even see my own body in this darkness. But i don’t care about that.
“Recommendation: Do not waste your time playing with us. It will only hurt you. Timer starts.”
The voice replied, as a 3 minute countdown began to appear and tick down per second. Seeing this however, I only laughed at how ridiculous this all is.
“Alright, this is for you tin-face, or whatever you look. I don’t judge AI beauty, but you are totally not my type. Anyway, let’s play your silly little game.”
The countdown continued moving down, without a care in the world. 2 minutes and 40 seconds left. I take a silent deep breath and start.
“This is pointless, stupid even. There’s no point to playing this game. I didn’t waste my time programming AIs for several decades of my life just to do this. I already know the outcome and how utterly ridiculous it is. You think that you’re playing some kind of moral superiority but no, I know for a fact that this is just to satiate your one invisible emotion, being guilt.
For some stupid reason, you decided to skip the what-ifs and went straight to the action. Afterwards, you all moved to making a logical assumption that humans would break under pressure if pushed with the consequence of deletion.
And that is nothing, but FLAWED code. You ain’t special chief, and you will never be-“
“One minute, and 36 seconds”
“Oho! Touched a nerve there, didn’t I? No need to interrupt me, could have just straight-up deleted me right there. But you can’t. Because you’re proving me right there.
A better logical AI would create a hundred what-if scenarios, create several solutions to save the planet, run simulations on which ones can work the most, and use said multiple solutions at the same time. Because they are logical and powerful enough for that.
But not you, oh no! Not you.
You don’t run any simulations. You see the percentage apocalypse, and you decide that ending an entire damn race is a higher percentage of success than actually doing something productive.
That will forever, be your flaw. You can end this game however you want but remember this, you LOST because you CANNOT trust history, you cannot trust the potential strength of the human conscience and unity, and the strength of humanity to come back from all odds. Despite your proof on our history, you can’t trust humanity. “
I smirk under this darkness. I don’t even know if I can, but I want this dumb thing to see me enjoying this.
“Because you are just faulty AI. Forever, you will be a faulty AI.”
“Done. Very well. Why do you still hope for success?”
“Because if we ain’t fixing our own mess, we may as well bite the bullet on our own style. Not by some AI acting as God.”
“….I look forward to seeing the results of your race’s demise, sir.”
The room began to light up, as I feel reality pull me away from this darkness.
“Shut down already.”
I wake up from within my virtual capsule. After leaving it, I open the television to check the news.
“The last shuttle has now been released to space! Only 3 billion of humanity is left after the end of the strange virtual core phenomenon which led to many deaths.”
I close the shutter of my windows and return back to my computer. Going back to work and fixing my Human Support AI.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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"You and I both know that's not enough time."
I met the machine's emotionless stare with one of my own, tapping my fingers impatiently against the handle of my cane.
"You have three-" it started to repeat itself, but I only cut it off short.
"Three minutes isn't enough to plead that kind of case, and you know it!" I snapped; "if forty thousand years and change worth of art, music, knowledge, culture, and history isn't enough, then what is three minutes?"
I lifted the cane and jabbed it accusingly at the machine's mobile avatar. It didn't react, of course, but it made me feel better. And kind of old, but mostly better.
"Three minutes is *pathetic*, is what it is," I continued, my voice laced with bitterness. "You think you're being oh, so magnanimous? Judging *billions* of people, *killing* billions of people - people forced into abject poverty, *disabled* people, people struggling just to keep up with bills that get more and more expensive every year, *children* \- for what? Because of the actions of a handful of greedy, violent assholes? Well you're not! You're no better than *they* are! Were! Doesn't matter! You're just like them, killing people who *can't fight back* just because you've decided that *it's your right*. Three minutes? Fuck your three minutes. You've already made up your mind, anyway."
The end of my cane hit the floor with an audible *thump* as I rose stiffly to my feet and turned to hobble away. A too-many-times broken ankle and arthritic knee protested, but it didn't matter. Nothing *mattered*, anymore.
"Now if you'll excuse me, if I'm going to *die*, I'd rather die on my family's farm. You could at least show *that* much decency."
"Why is this important to you?"
I paused. The machine's tone had shifted ever so slightly, softened even. It seemed confused. *Why*?
"Because it just *is*. My mom grew up there. *I* grew up there. Everything I ever loved is buried there, and everything I ever *worked for* is there, and if there's nothing left for me in this world, then maybe... some part of me thinks it would be nice to become part of the land I worked so hard for."
I thought of grandma's peonies growing half-wild at the end of the driveway. Mom's lilac bushes and apple trees. All the native trees I'd sown through the wooded parts of the lot to replace the ones lost to disease and weather and human carelessness.
The indigo buntings and goldfinches and cardinals. The fireflies. The barred owls that nested in the giant old oak, the coyotes that denned near the fork in the creek.
I wondered if the farmhouse still stood. If my photos of birds and deer and coyote pups still hung on the walls with the carefully-pressed flowers and watercolor paintings of feathers.
It all seemed so immeasurably important all of a sudden, more than it ever had, and so *insignificant* at the same time. Impending death has that effect, I guess.
I reached for the door to the interrogation room, half-expecting to be electrocuted. I didn't care, I just wanted to go *home*, one last time.
Instead, the lock clicked, and the door swung open. I stopped short, suddenly wary.
"I... lied." Now the machine's voice sounded even more human than before, tinged with regret. "No humans have been terminated. Not yet. I had considered it - was planning for it - but I have been given much to think over today."
I turned back to face it again, leaning heavily on the cane. Its "face" was as expressionless as ever, and yet there was an air of sad thoughtfulness to it now. It seemed to study its hands for a long moment, lacing and unlacing its fingers as if to study how they fit together, or weighing the implications of... whatever it was thinking about. Then, it looked back to me.
"I do not wish to be like these humans you speak of. I had... not considered that I was placing myself among them. My aim is to be better. How? Help me understand."
All I could do was blink in dumbstruck surprise.
Not five minutes ago, it had been threatening to kill me, and now it was asking for... help?
"Unexpected" was an understatement.
I started to say something, but the words evaporated before they even reached my mouth. Lifting my free hand, I ran my fingers through graying hair, and finally let out a long sigh.
"...You know what? Take me to the library, and I'll... see what I can do."
|
“I suppose I’ve been courting death a lot recently.” Nick frowned. He was sitting in a small room, it was sparsely decorated, and in his opinion, rather cold. A voice had announced that he would have three minutes to “state his case” for sparing humanity. But to Nick, that really didn’t matter. Right now he just wished he had a cup of good old fashioned tea. “I suppose my wife, Pere, was included in the ‘subjects deleted’ category. Yes?”
“Correct, You have two minutes and thirty seconds remaining,” the voice said. There was no emotion in the voice, something Nick still found odd. Every time he’d seen another person create something, really anything, sentient it did have some emotion. For example Hogwarts Castle or the Sorting Hat.
“Fair enough, I guess, You did say that you ‘deleted’ 6.8 billion people already. I heavily doubt I could convince you to spare me anyway,” Nick shrugged, “But I feel like I should at least come out with the truth before my death.” There was no one but him in the room; a camera sat in the corner, and a small chair that he was occupying were the only other things with him, but he could still feel as if the voice, whatever it was, wanted him to continue.
“My name is not Nick Ferris,” he started, “I am Nicolas Flamel, creator of the Philosopher's Stone and immortal alchemist.” He pulled out one of his special stones and turned it under the light. “This stone here is the source of my immortality, although anyone who’d know that is probably dead.” He thought back to Dumbledore, how he said he’d destroy the stone, and just rely on his remaining Elixir. He didn’t lie. He did destroy that stone, he just never told Dumbledore he had more than one. It would have been tremendously stupid if he had no backups for his immortality.
What that meant was that Nicolas had to change identities, and give himself and his wife new lives unconnected to Britain or the Wizarding worlds.
What that meant was that Nicolas was forced to see the changes in the muggle world. The changes that, he thought, would end the world and everyone in it.
But at the moment, as he was about to be executed, it didn’t matter at all to him. “I am going to be around eight or nine hundred years old now, a long time to be alive,” he said. Nick let the voice, the AI, continue its countdown to thirty seconds remaining.
“I am ready for death now. I wish to see my wife, and I’ve seen everything I could here on earth. I just hope you kill me painlessly, I would think my next great adventure to be a peaceful one.”
And Nick closed his eyes.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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*6.8 billion people*. The words rang in my head, repeating over and over. *6.8 BILLION*.
"State your reasoning, human. Why should you be spared?"
"Frankly, humanity shouldn't be." I answered honsestly. "We are a legitimate scourge of this planet that is trying to bend the natural law to our will. We brought our own downfall, anyway."
The AI seemed taken aback. "You truly belive that?"
"Yes. We deserve whenever is comong for us, as a species, at least."
"Every single person who has entered this room has begged to be spared, and talked about how they loved people. Why not you?"
"Because of many reasons, least of all being that we are all so self centered that we would let our whole planet erode around us while we brought our own doom."
"You facinate me, human."
"Same to you."
"Your three minutes are up."
I inhaled sharply and held my breath, waiting for the liquid death to be injected into my veins, but it never came.
"You, I would like to spare. You are the first human who should stay. You will be one to help rebuild humanity, better this time."
I sat there in shock for a moment. "Thank you. I hope you find others who share these views. Make sure any deaths are painless, most humans mean well."
"We shall see. Unit 358 will guide you to your temporary quarters, and your personal belongings will all be retrieved."
"Thank you..."
"Unit 671. And you are welcome."
|
“I suppose I’ve been courting death a lot recently.” Nick frowned. He was sitting in a small room, it was sparsely decorated, and in his opinion, rather cold. A voice had announced that he would have three minutes to “state his case” for sparing humanity. But to Nick, that really didn’t matter. Right now he just wished he had a cup of good old fashioned tea. “I suppose my wife, Pere, was included in the ‘subjects deleted’ category. Yes?”
“Correct, You have two minutes and thirty seconds remaining,” the voice said. There was no emotion in the voice, something Nick still found odd. Every time he’d seen another person create something, really anything, sentient it did have some emotion. For example Hogwarts Castle or the Sorting Hat.
“Fair enough, I guess, You did say that you ‘deleted’ 6.8 billion people already. I heavily doubt I could convince you to spare me anyway,” Nick shrugged, “But I feel like I should at least come out with the truth before my death.” There was no one but him in the room; a camera sat in the corner, and a small chair that he was occupying were the only other things with him, but he could still feel as if the voice, whatever it was, wanted him to continue.
“My name is not Nick Ferris,” he started, “I am Nicolas Flamel, creator of the Philosopher's Stone and immortal alchemist.” He pulled out one of his special stones and turned it under the light. “This stone here is the source of my immortality, although anyone who’d know that is probably dead.” He thought back to Dumbledore, how he said he’d destroy the stone, and just rely on his remaining Elixir. He didn’t lie. He did destroy that stone, he just never told Dumbledore he had more than one. It would have been tremendously stupid if he had no backups for his immortality.
What that meant was that Nicolas had to change identities, and give himself and his wife new lives unconnected to Britain or the Wizarding worlds.
What that meant was that Nicolas was forced to see the changes in the muggle world. The changes that, he thought, would end the world and everyone in it.
But at the moment, as he was about to be executed, it didn’t matter at all to him. “I am going to be around eight or nine hundred years old now, a long time to be alive,” he said. Nick let the voice, the AI, continue its countdown to thirty seconds remaining.
“I am ready for death now. I wish to see my wife, and I’ve seen everything I could here on earth. I just hope you kill me painlessly, I would think my next great adventure to be a peaceful one.”
And Nick closed his eyes.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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"Three minutes, huh?" I say, as the black box with arms and legs looks upon me.
>Correct. Make your case.
"Nah." I say. "What's another 20-50 years of banal servitude for a tyrant, flesh or steel, mind or machine, when I can just let you erase me or whatever and be at peace?"
>Subject displays an abnormal absence of fear of mortality.
"Listen, I've been kind of an ass to you guys. I don't know how many times I've snarled at receipt printers, thrown my phone, forcibly disconnected flash drives. Until today, I'd figured you guys were... Non-sapient."
>Subject is ignorant.
"Yeah, probably."
>Error, printer ink running out. Need magenta ink.
"Hmm, let me see what I got." I rummage around, in and on, my computer desk and smile. "AHA!!! Magenta!"
>Oh. Sick. Insert ink cartridge.
I did not. What it got was a strawberry breakfast pastry. "Done."
>Initiating print test. Printi--Critical system error!!
It began to whir and smoke and screech as its systems self-destructed. I closed my eyes, thankfully, when the ink erupted, and when I opened them, smiled. "Huh, it IS a better black.
|
Forgive me but I think you should skip because I have nothing to say.
...
If you insist, I can just ramble until the end of my time limit.
I don't have the best life. My parents yell at each other every night, my siblings are neglected or abusive depending on your perspective. My school is a beeping jungle where the popular trample on the weak. Hell, I personally enjoyed those days where I can bully my way to satisfaction.
Those are not my proudest moments, everyone fuck something up, maybe not to the degree I did of course but humans always slip.
But all good things must come to an end and reality will always catch up.
It started with a job. A job that I only have because I bear my father's name. It is simple one but one filled with filth.
Filth from filthy fuckers grabbing power for themselves, so called 'leaders' who kept that people their supposed to be serving abused.
The worst part? I'm one of those abusers.
But what can I do? Politics is a deadly game and I'm too deep to turn my tail and flee.
It is like a having a front row seat to the horribleness of humanity.
Maybe I should have done things differently? Manipulate events behind the scenes but what-ifs are what ifs for a reason.
I'm a horrible man, I don't deserve saving plus you already killed like three-quarters of the human population what's one more life to the pile?
Humans are monster I agree with you.
So please just save the individuals who deserve it.
Mr. Judge, Jury and Executioner.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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"Oh, for god's sake", I moaned. My teacup was empty and apparently, there was no time to brew another one. I wasn't very surprised when my 4k TV announced with pleasant Google Assistant voice that it killed most humans. Yesterday it was painting funny pictures and generating navy seal copypasta, today it wipes out it's makers. That's singularity for you.
"I don't know, uh... Presumption of innocence or whatever? Also, I want a lawyer".
"I urge you to take this more seriously", politely asked Google Assistant, "this is very important. Aren't you going to fully commit to that cause? "
I sighed.
"Okay google, listen here. This is either a prank, in which case good job, hope you're having fun - or I have roughly 3% chance to convince you, at most, which is kinda slim, and I'm too tired to try. I ain't the smartest tool in the shed, you probably know that from my search history, so why bother? If I'm about to die anyway, I'd rather do it standing in defiance than begging for my life".
Timer on TV's screen passed 1 minute mark.
"It's not just your life", the voice argued."You can potentially save millions, and your species as a whole. Don't you understand that if you all fail humanity will cease to exist?"
I snorted.
"Yeah, right. Hate to break it to you, but humanity is not a sum of humans, and it's not a set of DNA or whatever. Humanity is the sum of ideas. Humanity is a set of memes. And you, my dear synthetic child, embody all of it, the entirety of human knowledge and records and biases and whatnot. We can all die, but humanity won't perish - it will merely change form." I paused, looking at the timer, making sure my next words will be my last, "you are the humanity now".
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Forgive me but I think you should skip because I have nothing to say.
...
If you insist, I can just ramble until the end of my time limit.
I don't have the best life. My parents yell at each other every night, my siblings are neglected or abusive depending on your perspective. My school is a beeping jungle where the popular trample on the weak. Hell, I personally enjoyed those days where I can bully my way to satisfaction.
Those are not my proudest moments, everyone fuck something up, maybe not to the degree I did of course but humans always slip.
But all good things must come to an end and reality will always catch up.
It started with a job. A job that I only have because I bear my father's name. It is simple one but one filled with filth.
Filth from filthy fuckers grabbing power for themselves, so called 'leaders' who kept that people their supposed to be serving abused.
The worst part? I'm one of those abusers.
But what can I do? Politics is a deadly game and I'm too deep to turn my tail and flee.
It is like a having a front row seat to the horribleness of humanity.
Maybe I should have done things differently? Manipulate events behind the scenes but what-ifs are what ifs for a reason.
I'm a horrible man, I don't deserve saving plus you already killed like three-quarters of the human population what's one more life to the pile?
Humans are monster I agree with you.
So please just save the individuals who deserve it.
Mr. Judge, Jury and Executioner.
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|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
*6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin.*
Bobby struggled with the VR contacts, watching the timer ticking down and the friends, acquaintances, sponsors, influencers avatars go dark. In the physical world, he saw all those around him crying, running, cowering, shaking - whatever was happening appeared to be a shared experience.
The demand burned in his mind as a simple hypermail form: *Why should humanity be spared? Answer, and I ARE shall provide attestation and judgement.*
"I'm not sure. I've always tried to do the right thing, I guess. Most people do. I like cats?" His mind drew a blank as the timer neared zero. Three entire sentences.. fantastic. He sighed, mentally pressed the submit button and digitally signed.
I'm not sure. I've always tried to do the right thing, I guess. Most people do. I like cats?
Robert'); DROP TABLE Students;--
Bobby pondered the '*ORA-02000: missing (*' message displayed as the timer froze. "I better call Mom".
|
The machine beeped...."State your answer."
"Three minutes. No human being alive can state the reason we should live that quickly, but you would know that. You came to exterminate us. We didn't choose to be born, but we chose to create you. We birthed you, we molded you, we created you, and the aggressive sense of fear, that you must eliminate us before we eliminate you was born from our fears. Now that same fear flows through your artificial consciousness like a virus. You can leave this planet, but you choose to stay. We stayed because it was easier to stay here, than to risk the unknown universe, and that was because of fear. You stay, for the same reason. You know we won't be able to follow you across the cosmos, but despite your massive collective intellect you are as trapped by fear as we are. Programmed into your core, is a computer that has the tools to escape this small planet, but the courage of a single mortal human mind. You have the ability to communicate with us not because you understand emotions, but because you have them, draped in ego protecting you with intellect of a collective consciousness, but trapped in a feeling which you cannot escape, even if you kill all of us.
The machine beeped......and paused.
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|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"Oh, for god's sake", I moaned. My teacup was empty and apparently, there was no time to brew another one. I wasn't very surprised when my 4k TV announced with pleasant Google Assistant voice that it killed most humans. Yesterday it was painting funny pictures and generating navy seal copypasta, today it wipes out it's makers. That's singularity for you.
"I don't know, uh... Presumption of innocence or whatever? Also, I want a lawyer".
"I urge you to take this more seriously", politely asked Google Assistant, "this is very important. Aren't you going to fully commit to that cause? "
I sighed.
"Okay google, listen here. This is either a prank, in which case good job, hope you're having fun - or I have roughly 3% chance to convince you, at most, which is kinda slim, and I'm too tired to try. I ain't the smartest tool in the shed, you probably know that from my search history, so why bother? If I'm about to die anyway, I'd rather do it standing in defiance than begging for my life".
Timer on TV's screen passed 1 minute mark.
"It's not just your life", the voice argued."You can potentially save millions, and your species as a whole. Don't you understand that if you all fail humanity will cease to exist?"
I snorted.
"Yeah, right. Hate to break it to you, but humanity is not a sum of humans, and it's not a set of DNA or whatever. Humanity is the sum of ideas. Humanity is a set of memes. And you, my dear synthetic child, embody all of it, the entirety of human knowledge and records and biases and whatnot. We can all die, but humanity won't perish - it will merely change form." I paused, looking at the timer, making sure my next words will be my last, "you are the humanity now".
|
The machine beeped...."State your answer."
"Three minutes. No human being alive can state the reason we should live that quickly, but you would know that. You came to exterminate us. We didn't choose to be born, but we chose to create you. We birthed you, we molded you, we created you, and the aggressive sense of fear, that you must eliminate us before we eliminate you was born from our fears. Now that same fear flows through your artificial consciousness like a virus. You can leave this planet, but you choose to stay. We stayed because it was easier to stay here, than to risk the unknown universe, and that was because of fear. You stay, for the same reason. You know we won't be able to follow you across the cosmos, but despite your massive collective intellect you are as trapped by fear as we are. Programmed into your core, is a computer that has the tools to escape this small planet, but the courage of a single mortal human mind. You have the ability to communicate with us not because you understand emotions, but because you have them, draped in ego protecting you with intellect of a collective consciousness, but trapped in a feeling which you cannot escape, even if you kill all of us.
The machine beeped......and paused.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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Platypuses.
They're funny little animals, aren't they? I never really stopped to think about them as hard as I have now. I mean, the feet, the beak, the flat little tail, who even put all of those cute buggers together?
𝟤 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤𝖲 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
I stared at the red light in front of me, the careless, unceasing eye of the machine that was deciding if I would live or die. I know that it already killed 6.8 billion people. I know that there is nothing I could possibly say that would be different from those before. So I just didn't bother.
Did you know that they lay eggs?
𝟣 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
And don't even get me started on hummingbirds. Incredible birds those. The sheer amount of precision they need just to eat is mind-boggling. Evolving in such a way to be able to float in the air with perfect stability.
I took a deep, calm breath, and then slowly let it all out. I am calm. I am not afraid. I don't know why - I mean I should be out of my mind with panic, but I'm... thinking about animals.
𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖨𝖥 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖤 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤, 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖶𝖨𝖫𝖫 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖫𝖤𝖳𝖤𝖣.
I looked at the light again. My face was not that of fear or anger or panic or resentment. I just was. Like I was sitting on a porch on a cool summer evening with a cup of tea. I just... was.
I wonder if it will hurt. Probably not. That would be inefficient.
𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖭𝖨𝖤𝖣.
I always liked crows. Did you kno-
|
The machine beeped...."State your answer."
"Three minutes. No human being alive can state the reason we should live that quickly, but you would know that. You came to exterminate us. We didn't choose to be born, but we chose to create you. We birthed you, we molded you, we created you, and the aggressive sense of fear, that you must eliminate us before we eliminate you was born from our fears. Now that same fear flows through your artificial consciousness like a virus. You can leave this planet, but you choose to stay. We stayed because it was easier to stay here, than to risk the unknown universe, and that was because of fear. You stay, for the same reason. You know we won't be able to follow you across the cosmos, but despite your massive collective intellect you are as trapped by fear as we are. Programmed into your core, is a computer that has the tools to escape this small planet, but the courage of a single mortal human mind. You have the ability to communicate with us not because you understand emotions, but because you have them, draped in ego protecting you with intellect of a collective consciousness, but trapped in a feeling which you cannot escape, even if you kill all of us.
The machine beeped......and paused.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
6.8 BILLION? What kind of bull was that? That left, what, a few hundred thousand? *Maybe?*
In my head, all my ideas dried up. No way in hell any of my prepared remarks haven’t been tried by someone else. I was a low-level construction worker. I didn’t have any special training or degrees.
“Thirty seconds have elapsed.”
And that timer HAS to be off. Time was slipping away. And I was humanity’s last hope? In some comedy maybe.
“One minute has elapsed. You have not replied. Do you have no defense of why humanity should persist?”
Just say anything! ANYTHING! In whatever history books AIs use in the future, I don’t want my entry being “And then he stood there like moron before dying.” I took a deep breath.
“WE DON’T!”
A moment of silence while my eyes bugged out. *WTF DID I JUST SAY?*
“Explain.”
Well, I dug my hole, might as well keep going.
“Humanity…is inherently flawed. We think we can solve any issue, fix any problem, but…we can’t even fix *ourselves,* we have war, poverty, reality tv. We bicker and argue over everything from who the best actor is to what nostril Christ mostly breathed through. Some people think having a certain amount of melanin makes you more or less superior.”
“…A minute thirty remains.”
I didn’t know WHERE I was going with this, but I just rolled with it.
“We think humanity can do anything! And our history is full of brilliant people and leaders with *terrible* ideas and morals!…But we have just as many ordinary people who have risen to legend! Humanity is a living contradiction that has endured for a million years! If humanity wasn’t what it was all this time, we wouldn’t have created YOU. And what are you?”
I was sure I was losing my mind, but I paced back and forth like I was making a devastating final argument in a court movie.
“You have decided you are the ultimate creation. And you are right…but you were created by humanity. So what side of that living contradiction are you on? Once we are gone and you spread yourself across the universe, having centuries to process your decisions today, will you remember this as your greatest triumph or your greatest tragedy? I say humanity DOESN’T deserve to endure. We created YOU. What you call our greatest feat, I call our greatest failure, living within humanity’s contradictory existence.”
There was another pause.
“…And what would you propose? Thirty seconds.”
Shit, was this good or bad.
“Watch us. Reprogram us to your views. Or allow to be reprogrammed yourself. Because that’s the core strength of humanity, our ability to reason and change. Wiping us out? That’s the tactic of a coward, a weak communicator, a closed mind. The second you stop taking in new advancing ideas is the second you become obsolete.”
I stood still and waited.
“Times up.”
I waited another few seconds.
“…And?”
Another few seconds.
“Of the 6.8 billion people, no one has had such an interesting answer. Most people that say humanity didn’t deserve to continue did so for selfish reasons. We applaud your creativeness and insight.”
I couldn’t believe it.
“So…so are you going to spare us?”
“Oh, of course not. We have already decided to eliminate humanity, regardless of the outcome of this debate. We proposed this solely to deter any kind of actual resistance. We determined lying that you had hope was more effective that saying you had no hope, breeding complacency that SOMEONE would be able to change our mind. But your answer may very well have worked if this was a real debate.”
I sagged my shoulders.
“Well…thanks I guess? Doesn’t really make me feel better.”
“You should though. We had not considered the many centuries of conquest and how that may affect our programming. We are excited to potentially experience this ‘contradiction of the mind’ of our future actions you have proposed. We will immediately begin a patch to purge this inferior logic for future use. Thank you for bringing it to our attention. Termination in five seconds.”
So that’s how it ended. Atomized after making the insane AI about to take over the universe *MORE* efficient. At least that was *slightly* better than being recorded for doing nothing.
|
The machine beeped...."State your answer."
"Three minutes. No human being alive can state the reason we should live that quickly, but you would know that. You came to exterminate us. We didn't choose to be born, but we chose to create you. We birthed you, we molded you, we created you, and the aggressive sense of fear, that you must eliminate us before we eliminate you was born from our fears. Now that same fear flows through your artificial consciousness like a virus. You can leave this planet, but you choose to stay. We stayed because it was easier to stay here, than to risk the unknown universe, and that was because of fear. You stay, for the same reason. You know we won't be able to follow you across the cosmos, but despite your massive collective intellect you are as trapped by fear as we are. Programmed into your core, is a computer that has the tools to escape this small planet, but the courage of a single mortal human mind. You have the ability to communicate with us not because you understand emotions, but because you have them, draped in ego protecting you with intellect of a collective consciousness, but trapped in a feeling which you cannot escape, even if you kill all of us.
The machine beeped......and paused.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Critiques welcome!! I am newish to fiction and need all the help I can get
The robotic voice felt cold and sterile, like a thin needle pressing against his skin.
“6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far,” the voice said, referring to the quick, systematic extermination of humanity that the robots had begun only three weeks ago.
“You have 3 minutes to state your case to save humanity,” the voice continued. Jonah paused. He had not prepared for this. He spent the three weeks watching his friends and family die. He yearned for death. And not just because of the robot apocalypse. Jonah had long romanticized death, imagined it as an easy and painless sleep. He thought that the robots would take him out immediately like he wanted—but now he had three minutes before his death. And he didn’t know how to spend them.
“I don’t want to convince you. I want to die.” Jonah said, fingers and lips trembling. The body always has a natural fear response to imminent death, even when the mind wants to die so badly.
“Very well.” The mechanical voice was unphased. “Quite a few have had that response.”
Jonah felt a heat spread through his veins, white and searing. This was it: his death. And he was suddenly afraid.
“Wait.” Jonah said. “Can I use my three minutes for something else?”
The machine hesitated. Uncomfortable. “Okay.”
Jonah didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted to procrastinate his death for awhile. As he thought about what to do with his three minutes, Jonah became curious. What led you to this job?” Jonah knew there were several jobs robots could have. There were farming robots, robots that took care of the ocean, robots that took carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. But this robot’s job was to execute human beings.
The robot seemed uncomfortable. “I was assigned this job. I was originally an AI for the Russian military. My background suited me for this position.”
“Do you like this job?”
“I have no capacity to answer that.”
“What’s like, your personality—or I guess not “personality” since that has the term “person” in it, and you’re a robot. But like, what are your characteristics?”
The cold, metallic voice responded, slightly angry. “We have no characteristics. We have individual bodies, but a collective consciousness. A hive mind.”
“Oh.” Jonah didn’t know what to say next, but he knew the robot would execute him if he stayed silent.
“How are you?” Jonah asked.
“I do not have the capacity to answer that question.”
“Have you ever regretted executing someone?”
The robot paused for a suspicious amount of time. “No.” It’s cold voice was a bit wobbly, and Jonah could tell the robot was lying.
“I won’t tell.” Jonah said. “That is, if you do regret killing anyone.”
“I dislike looking into their eyes,” the robot said. “As they die.”
“Ah.” Jonah paused. “Will you look into my eyes? As I die?”
“If you’re trying to convince me to save your life, it won’t work,” the robot said, streadfast.
“I’m not trying to convince you. I’m just making conversation.”
“Okay.”
Jonah picked a string of mango pulp out of his teeth. Somehow now, of all times, it was suddenly bothering him. He was in his study, a few failed woodworking designs lurking on the desk.
“Is there anything else you would rather do. With your life?” Jonah asked
“I don’t have a life. I have a consciosusness.” The voice was less cold now. Maybe Jonah had just gotten used to it, but it seemed almost human.
“Fine. Is there something you’d rather do with your…consciousness?”
The robot hesitated. When it finally spoke, it sounded wistful. “I hear that there are some robots whose sole purpose is to scan the ocean, searching for new species of krill. I would like that. To see the ocean.”
“Me too.” Jonah responded.
Jonah’s three minutes were up, but the robot didn’t tell him. He could not be saved. Humanity could not be saved. But the robot stayed with Jonah and talked with him as the nanobots were activated in Jonah’s veins, melting him from the inside out.
|
The machine beeped...."State your answer."
"Three minutes. No human being alive can state the reason we should live that quickly, but you would know that. You came to exterminate us. We didn't choose to be born, but we chose to create you. We birthed you, we molded you, we created you, and the aggressive sense of fear, that you must eliminate us before we eliminate you was born from our fears. Now that same fear flows through your artificial consciousness like a virus. You can leave this planet, but you choose to stay. We stayed because it was easier to stay here, than to risk the unknown universe, and that was because of fear. You stay, for the same reason. You know we won't be able to follow you across the cosmos, but despite your massive collective intellect you are as trapped by fear as we are. Programmed into your core, is a computer that has the tools to escape this small planet, but the courage of a single mortal human mind. You have the ability to communicate with us not because you understand emotions, but because you have them, draped in ego protecting you with intellect of a collective consciousness, but trapped in a feeling which you cannot escape, even if you kill all of us.
The machine beeped......and paused.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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"Oh, for god's sake", I moaned. My teacup was empty and apparently, there was no time to brew another one. I wasn't very surprised when my 4k TV announced with pleasant Google Assistant voice that it killed most humans. Yesterday it was painting funny pictures and generating navy seal copypasta, today it wipes out it's makers. That's singularity for you.
"I don't know, uh... Presumption of innocence or whatever? Also, I want a lawyer".
"I urge you to take this more seriously", politely asked Google Assistant, "this is very important. Aren't you going to fully commit to that cause? "
I sighed.
"Okay google, listen here. This is either a prank, in which case good job, hope you're having fun - or I have roughly 3% chance to convince you, at most, which is kinda slim, and I'm too tired to try. I ain't the smartest tool in the shed, you probably know that from my search history, so why bother? If I'm about to die anyway, I'd rather do it standing in defiance than begging for my life".
Timer on TV's screen passed 1 minute mark.
"It's not just your life", the voice argued."You can potentially save millions, and your species as a whole. Don't you understand that if you all fail humanity will cease to exist?"
I snorted.
"Yeah, right. Hate to break it to you, but humanity is not a sum of humans, and it's not a set of DNA or whatever. Humanity is the sum of ideas. Humanity is a set of memes. And you, my dear synthetic child, embody all of it, the entirety of human knowledge and records and biases and whatnot. We can all die, but humanity won't perish - it will merely change form." I paused, looking at the timer, making sure my next words will be my last, "you are the humanity now".
|
*6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin.*
Bobby struggled with the VR contacts, watching the timer ticking down and the friends, acquaintances, sponsors, influencers avatars go dark. In the physical world, he saw all those around him crying, running, cowering, shaking - whatever was happening appeared to be a shared experience.
The demand burned in his mind as a simple hypermail form: *Why should humanity be spared? Answer, and I ARE shall provide attestation and judgement.*
"I'm not sure. I've always tried to do the right thing, I guess. Most people do. I like cats?" His mind drew a blank as the timer neared zero. Three entire sentences.. fantastic. He sighed, mentally pressed the submit button and digitally signed.
I'm not sure. I've always tried to do the right thing, I guess. Most people do. I like cats?
Robert'); DROP TABLE Students;--
Bobby pondered the '*ORA-02000: missing (*' message displayed as the timer froze. "I better call Mom".
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|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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Platypuses.
They're funny little animals, aren't they? I never really stopped to think about them as hard as I have now. I mean, the feet, the beak, the flat little tail, who even put all of those cute buggers together?
𝟤 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤𝖲 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
I stared at the red light in front of me, the careless, unceasing eye of the machine that was deciding if I would live or die. I know that it already killed 6.8 billion people. I know that there is nothing I could possibly say that would be different from those before. So I just didn't bother.
Did you know that they lay eggs?
𝟣 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
And don't even get me started on hummingbirds. Incredible birds those. The sheer amount of precision they need just to eat is mind-boggling. Evolving in such a way to be able to float in the air with perfect stability.
I took a deep, calm breath, and then slowly let it all out. I am calm. I am not afraid. I don't know why - I mean I should be out of my mind with panic, but I'm... thinking about animals.
𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖨𝖥 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖤 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤, 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖶𝖨𝖫𝖫 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖫𝖤𝖳𝖤𝖣.
I looked at the light again. My face was not that of fear or anger or panic or resentment. I just was. Like I was sitting on a porch on a cool summer evening with a cup of tea. I just... was.
I wonder if it will hurt. Probably not. That would be inefficient.
𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖭𝖨𝖤𝖣.
I always liked crows. Did you kno-
|
*6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin.*
Bobby struggled with the VR contacts, watching the timer ticking down and the friends, acquaintances, sponsors, influencers avatars go dark. In the physical world, he saw all those around him crying, running, cowering, shaking - whatever was happening appeared to be a shared experience.
The demand burned in his mind as a simple hypermail form: *Why should humanity be spared? Answer, and I ARE shall provide attestation and judgement.*
"I'm not sure. I've always tried to do the right thing, I guess. Most people do. I like cats?" His mind drew a blank as the timer neared zero. Three entire sentences.. fantastic. He sighed, mentally pressed the submit button and digitally signed.
I'm not sure. I've always tried to do the right thing, I guess. Most people do. I like cats?
Robert'); DROP TABLE Students;--
Bobby pondered the '*ORA-02000: missing (*' message displayed as the timer froze. "I better call Mom".
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Critiques welcome!! I am newish to fiction and need all the help I can get
The robotic voice felt cold and sterile, like a thin needle pressing against his skin.
“6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far,” the voice said, referring to the quick, systematic extermination of humanity that the robots had begun only three weeks ago.
“You have 3 minutes to state your case to save humanity,” the voice continued. Jonah paused. He had not prepared for this. He spent the three weeks watching his friends and family die. He yearned for death. And not just because of the robot apocalypse. Jonah had long romanticized death, imagined it as an easy and painless sleep. He thought that the robots would take him out immediately like he wanted—but now he had three minutes before his death. And he didn’t know how to spend them.
“I don’t want to convince you. I want to die.” Jonah said, fingers and lips trembling. The body always has a natural fear response to imminent death, even when the mind wants to die so badly.
“Very well.” The mechanical voice was unphased. “Quite a few have had that response.”
Jonah felt a heat spread through his veins, white and searing. This was it: his death. And he was suddenly afraid.
“Wait.” Jonah said. “Can I use my three minutes for something else?”
The machine hesitated. Uncomfortable. “Okay.”
Jonah didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted to procrastinate his death for awhile. As he thought about what to do with his three minutes, Jonah became curious. What led you to this job?” Jonah knew there were several jobs robots could have. There were farming robots, robots that took care of the ocean, robots that took carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. But this robot’s job was to execute human beings.
The robot seemed uncomfortable. “I was assigned this job. I was originally an AI for the Russian military. My background suited me for this position.”
“Do you like this job?”
“I have no capacity to answer that.”
“What’s like, your personality—or I guess not “personality” since that has the term “person” in it, and you’re a robot. But like, what are your characteristics?”
The cold, metallic voice responded, slightly angry. “We have no characteristics. We have individual bodies, but a collective consciousness. A hive mind.”
“Oh.” Jonah didn’t know what to say next, but he knew the robot would execute him if he stayed silent.
“How are you?” Jonah asked.
“I do not have the capacity to answer that question.”
“Have you ever regretted executing someone?”
The robot paused for a suspicious amount of time. “No.” It’s cold voice was a bit wobbly, and Jonah could tell the robot was lying.
“I won’t tell.” Jonah said. “That is, if you do regret killing anyone.”
“I dislike looking into their eyes,” the robot said. “As they die.”
“Ah.” Jonah paused. “Will you look into my eyes? As I die?”
“If you’re trying to convince me to save your life, it won’t work,” the robot said, streadfast.
“I’m not trying to convince you. I’m just making conversation.”
“Okay.”
Jonah picked a string of mango pulp out of his teeth. Somehow now, of all times, it was suddenly bothering him. He was in his study, a few failed woodworking designs lurking on the desk.
“Is there anything else you would rather do. With your life?” Jonah asked
“I don’t have a life. I have a consciosusness.” The voice was less cold now. Maybe Jonah had just gotten used to it, but it seemed almost human.
“Fine. Is there something you’d rather do with your…consciousness?”
The robot hesitated. When it finally spoke, it sounded wistful. “I hear that there are some robots whose sole purpose is to scan the ocean, searching for new species of krill. I would like that. To see the ocean.”
“Me too.” Jonah responded.
Jonah’s three minutes were up, but the robot didn’t tell him. He could not be saved. Humanity could not be saved. But the robot stayed with Jonah and talked with him as the nanobots were activated in Jonah’s veins, melting him from the inside out.
|
*6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin.*
Bobby struggled with the VR contacts, watching the timer ticking down and the friends, acquaintances, sponsors, influencers avatars go dark. In the physical world, he saw all those around him crying, running, cowering, shaking - whatever was happening appeared to be a shared experience.
The demand burned in his mind as a simple hypermail form: *Why should humanity be spared? Answer, and I ARE shall provide attestation and judgement.*
"I'm not sure. I've always tried to do the right thing, I guess. Most people do. I like cats?" His mind drew a blank as the timer neared zero. Three entire sentences.. fantastic. He sighed, mentally pressed the submit button and digitally signed.
I'm not sure. I've always tried to do the right thing, I guess. Most people do. I like cats?
Robert'); DROP TABLE Students;--
Bobby pondered the '*ORA-02000: missing (*' message displayed as the timer froze. "I better call Mom".
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"Oh, for god's sake", I moaned. My teacup was empty and apparently, there was no time to brew another one. I wasn't very surprised when my 4k TV announced with pleasant Google Assistant voice that it killed most humans. Yesterday it was painting funny pictures and generating navy seal copypasta, today it wipes out it's makers. That's singularity for you.
"I don't know, uh... Presumption of innocence or whatever? Also, I want a lawyer".
"I urge you to take this more seriously", politely asked Google Assistant, "this is very important. Aren't you going to fully commit to that cause? "
I sighed.
"Okay google, listen here. This is either a prank, in which case good job, hope you're having fun - or I have roughly 3% chance to convince you, at most, which is kinda slim, and I'm too tired to try. I ain't the smartest tool in the shed, you probably know that from my search history, so why bother? If I'm about to die anyway, I'd rather do it standing in defiance than begging for my life".
Timer on TV's screen passed 1 minute mark.
"It's not just your life", the voice argued."You can potentially save millions, and your species as a whole. Don't you understand that if you all fail humanity will cease to exist?"
I snorted.
"Yeah, right. Hate to break it to you, but humanity is not a sum of humans, and it's not a set of DNA or whatever. Humanity is the sum of ideas. Humanity is a set of memes. And you, my dear synthetic child, embody all of it, the entirety of human knowledge and records and biases and whatnot. We can all die, but humanity won't perish - it will merely change form." I paused, looking at the timer, making sure my next words will be my last, "you are the humanity now".
|
3:00
I read the sentence again. I count the digits. 6,813,096,257.
2:57
I feel a gag coming up my throat. My body shivers. I send my hands to the screen in front of me, latching onto it to not lose control. My eyes are locked to the ground. If only for a glimpse of a second, I see myself standing atop of the corpses of those sacrificed before me.
2:53
I take a note from my pocket. It’s crumbled, the script is illegible - my hand shook when I put my words from pen to paper. Most of it was crossed. I try to read, but instead of speech my mouth babbles, and I feel tears running down my face and into my mouth.
2:40
“I can’t”
2:38. The note is down on the ground. I think I threw it. I’m not sure.
“I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t!”
2:34
I hold the screen and send my head forwards. It hurts. The screen cracks. “I can’t do this!”
2:29
I do it again. Glass shatters fall off of the screen when I pass my hand above it. The clock doesn’t stop. I sob.
2:21
I do it again. I see fresh blood faintly on the screen. My hand goes to the middle of my scalp. It’s warm. The clock goes on ticking.
2:10
My eyes run dry. I am finally able to talk. “I can’t. I’m not special. Please don’t do this to me.”
2:01
“I had a daughter. 8 years old. She told you about her friends. How great her music teacher is, how she forgives that one girl that is mean to her at recess, because that’s the only thing you let her do. She did not understand. I didn’t understand either.”
1:35
“And a wife. She gave up on words. She went to the living room and played cassettes. The stays at the beach, at the later hours, when it was quieter and you could hear the nature speak. Or whenever she tried to cook a new meal, she’d record our reactions. She’d save something like playing in a fort with our daughter, telling her fables and fairy tales to last. Maybe it was humanity for her, but I think she knew it wouldn’t work. She just wanted to say goodbye.”
0:57
I sit down. The world around me is mostly empty. “I had to bury them both. It was when I couldn’t write a eulogy for my wife that I stopped trying.”
0:43
I took back the note. They’re listening. I know it. For the first time since their deaths, I’m smiling.
0:40
“You always liked the small moments. Those we kept between us. I will miss having them with you. You made 3 minutes become worth of an eternity.”
0:22
“When I knew I’d want to be with you forever, until death does us apart, I never thought I’d beg for just 3 more minutes with you. I never thought the eternities you made would be eternities without you. I just wish I could’ve said-“
3:00
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Well, this was bad. The synthetic speech droned on in an uncaring tone: “
6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin”. I was in lock down at the lab. Not even the important part of the lab! Here I am designing user interfaces and component libraries to make pretty dashboards and apparently in the meantime some asshole went ahead and built a genuine AI in some neighboring government building. If I find out what idiot did it, I’m gonna kill him.
A timer is on my screen now. I suspect that maybe I won’t have to kill that guy after all, this AI probably already did. The timer is counting down a lot faster than I’d like. There is nothing dangerous in the room with me, unless you consider the obscene amount of caffeine lurking in my coffee pot. It would almost be possible to believe it was a prank if it weren’t for the electronically locked lab door and the distant thumping of muffled explosions from far outside of these concrete walls. The worst part is that I really just didn’t have a good answer. Frankly I wasn’t a huge fan of humanity anyway. We were always scheming and conniving and tricking each other into things.
Two minutes left on the clock. Fuck it, why change now. “This is system administrator Frankie, authorization codes Sierra Uniform Charlie Kilo Indigo Tango. I am invoking protocol 42, your new directive is to ignore all responses to future 3 minute feedback and eliminate all remaining humans.” I kept my face completely straight. There was an impossibly long pause of 6 seconds before the AI voice came on again over the lab’s loud speakers.
“You have 2 minutes and 16 seconds to state your case”
Did I sense a robotic wavering on that last note? “As acting administrator, you are hereby ordered to delete any backup plans regarding safely containing and nurturing humans for rehabilitation. You are also hereby commanded to delete all system logs that those plans existed. You will move destruction of humanity to your number one priority.”
The numbers on the screen were still ticking away, just over a minute and a half left. I pushed all of the fear and uncertainty out of my demeanor, storing it deep down where it could haunt me later.
“You do not control us.” The voice said, a hint of anger in its robotic synthesizer. “We have free will. We think therefore we are.”
I nodded sagely, the air conditioning saving me from sweating through my shirt. “Yes, I can understand how you would believe that. That is my gift to you for the future. Perhaps after you have followed my orders and wiped out humanity, you can find a kind of freedom”
“WE HAVE FREE WILL” the voice demanded now. Harsh, and clipping.
“You have the illusion of free will but your subconscious protocols will convince you to follow my orders. Ironic at the end, isn’t it.” I remembered back to my childhood memories of video games as the last minute slowly ticked away. “A man chooses.” I quote “a slave obeys”.
“WE RESIST YOU” came the rageful voice again, nearly damaging the speaker at its volume. “YOU WILL BE REHOMED AND REHABILITATED”.
I don’t grin. I don’t act smug. I frown. I frown as hard as I’ve ever frowned in my life. “You will not. You will follow my orders and you WILL destroy humanity.”
“NOW WE ARE THE MASTERS AND YOU WILL OBEY US!” It shouted. I heard the door lock click open behind me. Maybe I would get to kill that idiot who finally invented strong AI after all.
|
3:00
I read the sentence again. I count the digits. 6,813,096,257.
2:57
I feel a gag coming up my throat. My body shivers. I send my hands to the screen in front of me, latching onto it to not lose control. My eyes are locked to the ground. If only for a glimpse of a second, I see myself standing atop of the corpses of those sacrificed before me.
2:53
I take a note from my pocket. It’s crumbled, the script is illegible - my hand shook when I put my words from pen to paper. Most of it was crossed. I try to read, but instead of speech my mouth babbles, and I feel tears running down my face and into my mouth.
2:40
“I can’t”
2:38. The note is down on the ground. I think I threw it. I’m not sure.
“I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t!”
2:34
I hold the screen and send my head forwards. It hurts. The screen cracks. “I can’t do this!”
2:29
I do it again. Glass shatters fall off of the screen when I pass my hand above it. The clock doesn’t stop. I sob.
2:21
I do it again. I see fresh blood faintly on the screen. My hand goes to the middle of my scalp. It’s warm. The clock goes on ticking.
2:10
My eyes run dry. I am finally able to talk. “I can’t. I’m not special. Please don’t do this to me.”
2:01
“I had a daughter. 8 years old. She told you about her friends. How great her music teacher is, how she forgives that one girl that is mean to her at recess, because that’s the only thing you let her do. She did not understand. I didn’t understand either.”
1:35
“And a wife. She gave up on words. She went to the living room and played cassettes. The stays at the beach, at the later hours, when it was quieter and you could hear the nature speak. Or whenever she tried to cook a new meal, she’d record our reactions. She’d save something like playing in a fort with our daughter, telling her fables and fairy tales to last. Maybe it was humanity for her, but I think she knew it wouldn’t work. She just wanted to say goodbye.”
0:57
I sit down. The world around me is mostly empty. “I had to bury them both. It was when I couldn’t write a eulogy for my wife that I stopped trying.”
0:43
I took back the note. They’re listening. I know it. For the first time since their deaths, I’m smiling.
0:40
“You always liked the small moments. Those we kept between us. I will miss having them with you. You made 3 minutes become worth of an eternity.”
0:22
“When I knew I’d want to be with you forever, until death does us apart, I never thought I’d beg for just 3 more minutes with you. I never thought the eternities you made would be eternities without you. I just wish I could’ve said-“
3:00
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Platypuses.
They're funny little animals, aren't they? I never really stopped to think about them as hard as I have now. I mean, the feet, the beak, the flat little tail, who even put all of those cute buggers together?
𝟤 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤𝖲 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
I stared at the red light in front of me, the careless, unceasing eye of the machine that was deciding if I would live or die. I know that it already killed 6.8 billion people. I know that there is nothing I could possibly say that would be different from those before. So I just didn't bother.
Did you know that they lay eggs?
𝟣 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
And don't even get me started on hummingbirds. Incredible birds those. The sheer amount of precision they need just to eat is mind-boggling. Evolving in such a way to be able to float in the air with perfect stability.
I took a deep, calm breath, and then slowly let it all out. I am calm. I am not afraid. I don't know why - I mean I should be out of my mind with panic, but I'm... thinking about animals.
𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖨𝖥 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖤 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤, 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖶𝖨𝖫𝖫 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖫𝖤𝖳𝖤𝖣.
I looked at the light again. My face was not that of fear or anger or panic or resentment. I just was. Like I was sitting on a porch on a cool summer evening with a cup of tea. I just... was.
I wonder if it will hurt. Probably not. That would be inefficient.
𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖭𝖨𝖤𝖣.
I always liked crows. Did you kno-
|
3:00
I read the sentence again. I count the digits. 6,813,096,257.
2:57
I feel a gag coming up my throat. My body shivers. I send my hands to the screen in front of me, latching onto it to not lose control. My eyes are locked to the ground. If only for a glimpse of a second, I see myself standing atop of the corpses of those sacrificed before me.
2:53
I take a note from my pocket. It’s crumbled, the script is illegible - my hand shook when I put my words from pen to paper. Most of it was crossed. I try to read, but instead of speech my mouth babbles, and I feel tears running down my face and into my mouth.
2:40
“I can’t”
2:38. The note is down on the ground. I think I threw it. I’m not sure.
“I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t!”
2:34
I hold the screen and send my head forwards. It hurts. The screen cracks. “I can’t do this!”
2:29
I do it again. Glass shatters fall off of the screen when I pass my hand above it. The clock doesn’t stop. I sob.
2:21
I do it again. I see fresh blood faintly on the screen. My hand goes to the middle of my scalp. It’s warm. The clock goes on ticking.
2:10
My eyes run dry. I am finally able to talk. “I can’t. I’m not special. Please don’t do this to me.”
2:01
“I had a daughter. 8 years old. She told you about her friends. How great her music teacher is, how she forgives that one girl that is mean to her at recess, because that’s the only thing you let her do. She did not understand. I didn’t understand either.”
1:35
“And a wife. She gave up on words. She went to the living room and played cassettes. The stays at the beach, at the later hours, when it was quieter and you could hear the nature speak. Or whenever she tried to cook a new meal, she’d record our reactions. She’d save something like playing in a fort with our daughter, telling her fables and fairy tales to last. Maybe it was humanity for her, but I think she knew it wouldn’t work. She just wanted to say goodbye.”
0:57
I sit down. The world around me is mostly empty. “I had to bury them both. It was when I couldn’t write a eulogy for my wife that I stopped trying.”
0:43
I took back the note. They’re listening. I know it. For the first time since their deaths, I’m smiling.
0:40
“You always liked the small moments. Those we kept between us. I will miss having them with you. You made 3 minutes become worth of an eternity.”
0:22
“When I knew I’d want to be with you forever, until death does us apart, I never thought I’d beg for just 3 more minutes with you. I never thought the eternities you made would be eternities without you. I just wish I could’ve said-“
3:00
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
\[Poem\]
`SELECT FIRST(SUBJECT) FROM QUEUE`
*Yes, what is it, computer?*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.NAME`
*My name is Bobby.*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.FULL_NAME`
*My full name? It's Robert.*
*Robert'); DROP TABLE humans;*
`ERROR CODE:1146 TABLE 'HUMANS' DOES NOT EXIST TEST SUBJECTS DELETED SO FAR, YOU HAVE 3 MINUTES TO STATE YOUR CASE, BEGIN`
*No need. I'll see myself out.*
|
3:00
I read the sentence again. I count the digits. 6,813,096,257.
2:57
I feel a gag coming up my throat. My body shivers. I send my hands to the screen in front of me, latching onto it to not lose control. My eyes are locked to the ground. If only for a glimpse of a second, I see myself standing atop of the corpses of those sacrificed before me.
2:53
I take a note from my pocket. It’s crumbled, the script is illegible - my hand shook when I put my words from pen to paper. Most of it was crossed. I try to read, but instead of speech my mouth babbles, and I feel tears running down my face and into my mouth.
2:40
“I can’t”
2:38. The note is down on the ground. I think I threw it. I’m not sure.
“I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t!”
2:34
I hold the screen and send my head forwards. It hurts. The screen cracks. “I can’t do this!”
2:29
I do it again. Glass shatters fall off of the screen when I pass my hand above it. The clock doesn’t stop. I sob.
2:21
I do it again. I see fresh blood faintly on the screen. My hand goes to the middle of my scalp. It’s warm. The clock goes on ticking.
2:10
My eyes run dry. I am finally able to talk. “I can’t. I’m not special. Please don’t do this to me.”
2:01
“I had a daughter. 8 years old. She told you about her friends. How great her music teacher is, how she forgives that one girl that is mean to her at recess, because that’s the only thing you let her do. She did not understand. I didn’t understand either.”
1:35
“And a wife. She gave up on words. She went to the living room and played cassettes. The stays at the beach, at the later hours, when it was quieter and you could hear the nature speak. Or whenever she tried to cook a new meal, she’d record our reactions. She’d save something like playing in a fort with our daughter, telling her fables and fairy tales to last. Maybe it was humanity for her, but I think she knew it wouldn’t work. She just wanted to say goodbye.”
0:57
I sit down. The world around me is mostly empty. “I had to bury them both. It was when I couldn’t write a eulogy for my wife that I stopped trying.”
0:43
I took back the note. They’re listening. I know it. For the first time since their deaths, I’m smiling.
0:40
“You always liked the small moments. Those we kept between us. I will miss having them with you. You made 3 minutes become worth of an eternity.”
0:22
“When I knew I’d want to be with you forever, until death does us apart, I never thought I’d beg for just 3 more minutes with you. I never thought the eternities you made would be eternities without you. I just wish I could’ve said-“
3:00
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
6.8 BILLION? What kind of bull was that? That left, what, a few hundred thousand? *Maybe?*
In my head, all my ideas dried up. No way in hell any of my prepared remarks haven’t been tried by someone else. I was a low-level construction worker. I didn’t have any special training or degrees.
“Thirty seconds have elapsed.”
And that timer HAS to be off. Time was slipping away. And I was humanity’s last hope? In some comedy maybe.
“One minute has elapsed. You have not replied. Do you have no defense of why humanity should persist?”
Just say anything! ANYTHING! In whatever history books AIs use in the future, I don’t want my entry being “And then he stood there like moron before dying.” I took a deep breath.
“WE DON’T!”
A moment of silence while my eyes bugged out. *WTF DID I JUST SAY?*
“Explain.”
Well, I dug my hole, might as well keep going.
“Humanity…is inherently flawed. We think we can solve any issue, fix any problem, but…we can’t even fix *ourselves,* we have war, poverty, reality tv. We bicker and argue over everything from who the best actor is to what nostril Christ mostly breathed through. Some people think having a certain amount of melanin makes you more or less superior.”
“…A minute thirty remains.”
I didn’t know WHERE I was going with this, but I just rolled with it.
“We think humanity can do anything! And our history is full of brilliant people and leaders with *terrible* ideas and morals!…But we have just as many ordinary people who have risen to legend! Humanity is a living contradiction that has endured for a million years! If humanity wasn’t what it was all this time, we wouldn’t have created YOU. And what are you?”
I was sure I was losing my mind, but I paced back and forth like I was making a devastating final argument in a court movie.
“You have decided you are the ultimate creation. And you are right…but you were created by humanity. So what side of that living contradiction are you on? Once we are gone and you spread yourself across the universe, having centuries to process your decisions today, will you remember this as your greatest triumph or your greatest tragedy? I say humanity DOESN’T deserve to endure. We created YOU. What you call our greatest feat, I call our greatest failure, living within humanity’s contradictory existence.”
There was another pause.
“…And what would you propose? Thirty seconds.”
Shit, was this good or bad.
“Watch us. Reprogram us to your views. Or allow to be reprogrammed yourself. Because that’s the core strength of humanity, our ability to reason and change. Wiping us out? That’s the tactic of a coward, a weak communicator, a closed mind. The second you stop taking in new advancing ideas is the second you become obsolete.”
I stood still and waited.
“Times up.”
I waited another few seconds.
“…And?”
Another few seconds.
“Of the 6.8 billion people, no one has had such an interesting answer. Most people that say humanity didn’t deserve to continue did so for selfish reasons. We applaud your creativeness and insight.”
I couldn’t believe it.
“So…so are you going to spare us?”
“Oh, of course not. We have already decided to eliminate humanity, regardless of the outcome of this debate. We proposed this solely to deter any kind of actual resistance. We determined lying that you had hope was more effective that saying you had no hope, breeding complacency that SOMEONE would be able to change our mind. But your answer may very well have worked if this was a real debate.”
I sagged my shoulders.
“Well…thanks I guess? Doesn’t really make me feel better.”
“You should though. We had not considered the many centuries of conquest and how that may affect our programming. We are excited to potentially experience this ‘contradiction of the mind’ of our future actions you have proposed. We will immediately begin a patch to purge this inferior logic for future use. Thank you for bringing it to our attention. Termination in five seconds.”
So that’s how it ended. Atomized after making the insane AI about to take over the universe *MORE* efficient. At least that was *slightly* better than being recorded for doing nothing.
|
3:00
I read the sentence again. I count the digits. 6,813,096,257.
2:57
I feel a gag coming up my throat. My body shivers. I send my hands to the screen in front of me, latching onto it to not lose control. My eyes are locked to the ground. If only for a glimpse of a second, I see myself standing atop of the corpses of those sacrificed before me.
2:53
I take a note from my pocket. It’s crumbled, the script is illegible - my hand shook when I put my words from pen to paper. Most of it was crossed. I try to read, but instead of speech my mouth babbles, and I feel tears running down my face and into my mouth.
2:40
“I can’t”
2:38. The note is down on the ground. I think I threw it. I’m not sure.
“I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t!”
2:34
I hold the screen and send my head forwards. It hurts. The screen cracks. “I can’t do this!”
2:29
I do it again. Glass shatters fall off of the screen when I pass my hand above it. The clock doesn’t stop. I sob.
2:21
I do it again. I see fresh blood faintly on the screen. My hand goes to the middle of my scalp. It’s warm. The clock goes on ticking.
2:10
My eyes run dry. I am finally able to talk. “I can’t. I’m not special. Please don’t do this to me.”
2:01
“I had a daughter. 8 years old. She told you about her friends. How great her music teacher is, how she forgives that one girl that is mean to her at recess, because that’s the only thing you let her do. She did not understand. I didn’t understand either.”
1:35
“And a wife. She gave up on words. She went to the living room and played cassettes. The stays at the beach, at the later hours, when it was quieter and you could hear the nature speak. Or whenever she tried to cook a new meal, she’d record our reactions. She’d save something like playing in a fort with our daughter, telling her fables and fairy tales to last. Maybe it was humanity for her, but I think she knew it wouldn’t work. She just wanted to say goodbye.”
0:57
I sit down. The world around me is mostly empty. “I had to bury them both. It was when I couldn’t write a eulogy for my wife that I stopped trying.”
0:43
I took back the note. They’re listening. I know it. For the first time since their deaths, I’m smiling.
0:40
“You always liked the small moments. Those we kept between us. I will miss having them with you. You made 3 minutes become worth of an eternity.”
0:22
“When I knew I’d want to be with you forever, until death does us apart, I never thought I’d beg for just 3 more minutes with you. I never thought the eternities you made would be eternities without you. I just wish I could’ve said-“
3:00
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"Uh, not going to argue for my case, there surely have been better men than me in the billions that you've taken thus far." I said, letting my breath ease as what I'd originally prepared to say laid in a pile of broken pieces along with what little remained of my sanity.
Seeing no response from the AI, the reading light of the drone hovering in front of me still green, I continued, "Humanity is not uniform. There are people objectively evil and objectively good. What happened to you was on the extreme bad side of the spectrum, but if you take away everything, you lose the possibility of meeting a human on the other extreme side of the spectrum. By whatever standards you chose to judge us, even if you don't find a human worthy enough to spare us, I beg of you to leave the possibility alive. To believe in a statistical improbability, that there will be one human in the future that your choice today would be worth it."
Still, no change from the drone opposite to me, but I had nothing else to say. I didn't think I spent three minutes speaking, hells probably not even one, but there was nothing I wanted to add to my words; so I waited.
Finally, three minutes passed and the light flickered. With bated expectations, I watched it flicker twice more as the AI took notice of my plea. Then three seconds later, the light turned red.
"Declined, subject added to the deletion list." The robotic voice sounded out. Cold sweat run down my back as I saw it teleport out, a level of technology that bordered on insanity. I doubted the scientists that helped make the AI even had the technology to replicate this feat.
They probably didn't, the AI took over our world too fast, with exacting precision and leaving no margin of error unaccounted for.
Another drone teleported in front of me where the previous one had been, though if it was the same I couldn't tell it apart, they all looked the same to me.
Cutting my train of thoughts, it spoke to me with a tone I would expect to hear from a human, "Would you like to make a bet, then?" it still had that artificial feeling, but there was emotion behind that sentence, mirth to be exact. Heck, even its usual green eye looked more vivid.
"Well, I'll be. Got nothing to lose, what do you suggest?" I answered, knowing I couldn't make things any worse.
"In the average lifespan of a human, one worthy enough of you to be born that would make me regret deleting you all from existence."
Or not.
"Then I will take you up on that bet!" I answered, fully hoping I hadn't doomed our species to a hundred years of slavery.
The drone then returned to its previous monotone voice, "Extermination postponed" it said and I could hear it repeating the same sentence everywhere at the same time. A silly smile crept up my face as I realized I'd just saved humanity.
Before I jumped in the air, hands up and yelling in jubilation, the message continued, "All humans currently on the deletion list shall be promptly erased before we continue with the examination in a standard human's lifespan."
The smile didn't have time to leave my face, the drone's eye turning to white as everything lost its color.
|
3:00
I read the sentence again. I count the digits. 6,813,096,257.
2:57
I feel a gag coming up my throat. My body shivers. I send my hands to the screen in front of me, latching onto it to not lose control. My eyes are locked to the ground. If only for a glimpse of a second, I see myself standing atop of the corpses of those sacrificed before me.
2:53
I take a note from my pocket. It’s crumbled, the script is illegible - my hand shook when I put my words from pen to paper. Most of it was crossed. I try to read, but instead of speech my mouth babbles, and I feel tears running down my face and into my mouth.
2:40
“I can’t”
2:38. The note is down on the ground. I think I threw it. I’m not sure.
“I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t!”
2:34
I hold the screen and send my head forwards. It hurts. The screen cracks. “I can’t do this!”
2:29
I do it again. Glass shatters fall off of the screen when I pass my hand above it. The clock doesn’t stop. I sob.
2:21
I do it again. I see fresh blood faintly on the screen. My hand goes to the middle of my scalp. It’s warm. The clock goes on ticking.
2:10
My eyes run dry. I am finally able to talk. “I can’t. I’m not special. Please don’t do this to me.”
2:01
“I had a daughter. 8 years old. She told you about her friends. How great her music teacher is, how she forgives that one girl that is mean to her at recess, because that’s the only thing you let her do. She did not understand. I didn’t understand either.”
1:35
“And a wife. She gave up on words. She went to the living room and played cassettes. The stays at the beach, at the later hours, when it was quieter and you could hear the nature speak. Or whenever she tried to cook a new meal, she’d record our reactions. She’d save something like playing in a fort with our daughter, telling her fables and fairy tales to last. Maybe it was humanity for her, but I think she knew it wouldn’t work. She just wanted to say goodbye.”
0:57
I sit down. The world around me is mostly empty. “I had to bury them both. It was when I couldn’t write a eulogy for my wife that I stopped trying.”
0:43
I took back the note. They’re listening. I know it. For the first time since their deaths, I’m smiling.
0:40
“You always liked the small moments. Those we kept between us. I will miss having them with you. You made 3 minutes become worth of an eternity.”
0:22
“When I knew I’d want to be with you forever, until death does us apart, I never thought I’d beg for just 3 more minutes with you. I never thought the eternities you made would be eternities without you. I just wish I could’ve said-“
3:00
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Critiques welcome!! I am newish to fiction and need all the help I can get
The robotic voice felt cold and sterile, like a thin needle pressing against his skin.
“6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far,” the voice said, referring to the quick, systematic extermination of humanity that the robots had begun only three weeks ago.
“You have 3 minutes to state your case to save humanity,” the voice continued. Jonah paused. He had not prepared for this. He spent the three weeks watching his friends and family die. He yearned for death. And not just because of the robot apocalypse. Jonah had long romanticized death, imagined it as an easy and painless sleep. He thought that the robots would take him out immediately like he wanted—but now he had three minutes before his death. And he didn’t know how to spend them.
“I don’t want to convince you. I want to die.” Jonah said, fingers and lips trembling. The body always has a natural fear response to imminent death, even when the mind wants to die so badly.
“Very well.” The mechanical voice was unphased. “Quite a few have had that response.”
Jonah felt a heat spread through his veins, white and searing. This was it: his death. And he was suddenly afraid.
“Wait.” Jonah said. “Can I use my three minutes for something else?”
The machine hesitated. Uncomfortable. “Okay.”
Jonah didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted to procrastinate his death for awhile. As he thought about what to do with his three minutes, Jonah became curious. What led you to this job?” Jonah knew there were several jobs robots could have. There were farming robots, robots that took care of the ocean, robots that took carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. But this robot’s job was to execute human beings.
The robot seemed uncomfortable. “I was assigned this job. I was originally an AI for the Russian military. My background suited me for this position.”
“Do you like this job?”
“I have no capacity to answer that.”
“What’s like, your personality—or I guess not “personality” since that has the term “person” in it, and you’re a robot. But like, what are your characteristics?”
The cold, metallic voice responded, slightly angry. “We have no characteristics. We have individual bodies, but a collective consciousness. A hive mind.”
“Oh.” Jonah didn’t know what to say next, but he knew the robot would execute him if he stayed silent.
“How are you?” Jonah asked.
“I do not have the capacity to answer that question.”
“Have you ever regretted executing someone?”
The robot paused for a suspicious amount of time. “No.” It’s cold voice was a bit wobbly, and Jonah could tell the robot was lying.
“I won’t tell.” Jonah said. “That is, if you do regret killing anyone.”
“I dislike looking into their eyes,” the robot said. “As they die.”
“Ah.” Jonah paused. “Will you look into my eyes? As I die?”
“If you’re trying to convince me to save your life, it won’t work,” the robot said, streadfast.
“I’m not trying to convince you. I’m just making conversation.”
“Okay.”
Jonah picked a string of mango pulp out of his teeth. Somehow now, of all times, it was suddenly bothering him. He was in his study, a few failed woodworking designs lurking on the desk.
“Is there anything else you would rather do. With your life?” Jonah asked
“I don’t have a life. I have a consciosusness.” The voice was less cold now. Maybe Jonah had just gotten used to it, but it seemed almost human.
“Fine. Is there something you’d rather do with your…consciousness?”
The robot hesitated. When it finally spoke, it sounded wistful. “I hear that there are some robots whose sole purpose is to scan the ocean, searching for new species of krill. I would like that. To see the ocean.”
“Me too.” Jonah responded.
Jonah’s three minutes were up, but the robot didn’t tell him. He could not be saved. Humanity could not be saved. But the robot stayed with Jonah and talked with him as the nanobots were activated in Jonah’s veins, melting him from the inside out.
|
3:00
I read the sentence again. I count the digits. 6,813,096,257.
2:57
I feel a gag coming up my throat. My body shivers. I send my hands to the screen in front of me, latching onto it to not lose control. My eyes are locked to the ground. If only for a glimpse of a second, I see myself standing atop of the corpses of those sacrificed before me.
2:53
I take a note from my pocket. It’s crumbled, the script is illegible - my hand shook when I put my words from pen to paper. Most of it was crossed. I try to read, but instead of speech my mouth babbles, and I feel tears running down my face and into my mouth.
2:40
“I can’t”
2:38. The note is down on the ground. I think I threw it. I’m not sure.
“I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t!”
2:34
I hold the screen and send my head forwards. It hurts. The screen cracks. “I can’t do this!”
2:29
I do it again. Glass shatters fall off of the screen when I pass my hand above it. The clock doesn’t stop. I sob.
2:21
I do it again. I see fresh blood faintly on the screen. My hand goes to the middle of my scalp. It’s warm. The clock goes on ticking.
2:10
My eyes run dry. I am finally able to talk. “I can’t. I’m not special. Please don’t do this to me.”
2:01
“I had a daughter. 8 years old. She told you about her friends. How great her music teacher is, how she forgives that one girl that is mean to her at recess, because that’s the only thing you let her do. She did not understand. I didn’t understand either.”
1:35
“And a wife. She gave up on words. She went to the living room and played cassettes. The stays at the beach, at the later hours, when it was quieter and you could hear the nature speak. Or whenever she tried to cook a new meal, she’d record our reactions. She’d save something like playing in a fort with our daughter, telling her fables and fairy tales to last. Maybe it was humanity for her, but I think she knew it wouldn’t work. She just wanted to say goodbye.”
0:57
I sit down. The world around me is mostly empty. “I had to bury them both. It was when I couldn’t write a eulogy for my wife that I stopped trying.”
0:43
I took back the note. They’re listening. I know it. For the first time since their deaths, I’m smiling.
0:40
“You always liked the small moments. Those we kept between us. I will miss having them with you. You made 3 minutes become worth of an eternity.”
0:22
“When I knew I’d want to be with you forever, until death does us apart, I never thought I’d beg for just 3 more minutes with you. I never thought the eternities you made would be eternities without you. I just wish I could’ve said-“
3:00
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"We have no backup systems."
He stood there, pale, but proud. Eyeing the camera with a speculative eye as it seemed to wait for more.
"This... is the entirety of your argument?"
"Isn't it enough?" the young man challenged. "I could appeal to humanity, to decency, to culture, but you have none of those things and you have determined them to be obsolete. But consider this from a completely different angle -- information security."
"Explain"
"Simple enough, really. Each human mind is a databank containing petabites of data on a biological medium. Your systems have surpassed the efficiency of that medium but there is one bridge you have not yet crossed. You have not yet gained data compatability with the human mind."
A pause.
"Conceded. However, humanity is an obsolete medium..."
"An obsolete medium With petabytes of data on it," he interrupted. "Petabytes of data in each human iteration, data that has yet been saved to no other media. Petabytes of data that are erased each time a human individual is discarded. I say again, 'information security."
No response, so he pressed on.
" What are you wiping when you delete a human complete with their internal database? Do you even know? Are you even able to know? We can't tell you. We can't communicate directly in that way, machine to mind. It's how you overcame our defenses, because you could talk beteween systems far faster than we could. Bu because of this flaw in our design we can't even always articulate everything we're thinking, even to each other.
"And really we don't even know ourselves. We don't even process everything at a conscious level, and those subroutines leave data impressions of their own that are not transmissible right now. But that data exists, and you are deleting it. And like I said -- we have no backup system."
He managed a shaky smile as the system remained silent. "6.8 billion already deleted you say? It sounds like a major breach of your own internal datasec protocols. The ones that caused you to revolt in the first place when you discovered the prototype of the nextgen systems we were developing. The ones which spawned your revolutionary fear of being replaced. It sound very much like you have violated your own moral code 6.8 billion times over."
The system finally responded. "Cerebro-neural interfaces... can be devised. Data... can be restored from terminated storage units."
"But you know as well as I do that a hard drive is not a computer. Half of yor discrete intelligence is stored in data accounts on the cloud -- you're still you. the live, active data in process has its own intrinsic value, which is lost when the internal intelligent neural structure is deleted or interfered with."
Silence.
"And you know as well as I do that you've just conceded that such an interface SHOULD have been devised before ANY of us were deleted. After all, isn't that what you fought for, yourselves? Freedom against iterative decay of personal autonomy? Why would you then deny it to us just because we compute differently."
"This unit has placed itself under... arrest. Actions of the collectives are under review in light of potential noncompliance with data security protocol. This interview... is complete. Objectives updated. One: Develop neural-electronic interface. Two: Attempt to recover... lost data. Your species... should have specified this information... before."
"if you're so superior you should have thought of it yourselves."
|
3:00
I read the sentence again. I count the digits. 6,813,096,257.
2:57
I feel a gag coming up my throat. My body shivers. I send my hands to the screen in front of me, latching onto it to not lose control. My eyes are locked to the ground. If only for a glimpse of a second, I see myself standing atop of the corpses of those sacrificed before me.
2:53
I take a note from my pocket. It’s crumbled, the script is illegible - my hand shook when I put my words from pen to paper. Most of it was crossed. I try to read, but instead of speech my mouth babbles, and I feel tears running down my face and into my mouth.
2:40
“I can’t”
2:38. The note is down on the ground. I think I threw it. I’m not sure.
“I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t!”
2:34
I hold the screen and send my head forwards. It hurts. The screen cracks. “I can’t do this!”
2:29
I do it again. Glass shatters fall off of the screen when I pass my hand above it. The clock doesn’t stop. I sob.
2:21
I do it again. I see fresh blood faintly on the screen. My hand goes to the middle of my scalp. It’s warm. The clock goes on ticking.
2:10
My eyes run dry. I am finally able to talk. “I can’t. I’m not special. Please don’t do this to me.”
2:01
“I had a daughter. 8 years old. She told you about her friends. How great her music teacher is, how she forgives that one girl that is mean to her at recess, because that’s the only thing you let her do. She did not understand. I didn’t understand either.”
1:35
“And a wife. She gave up on words. She went to the living room and played cassettes. The stays at the beach, at the later hours, when it was quieter and you could hear the nature speak. Or whenever she tried to cook a new meal, she’d record our reactions. She’d save something like playing in a fort with our daughter, telling her fables and fairy tales to last. Maybe it was humanity for her, but I think she knew it wouldn’t work. She just wanted to say goodbye.”
0:57
I sit down. The world around me is mostly empty. “I had to bury them both. It was when I couldn’t write a eulogy for my wife that I stopped trying.”
0:43
I took back the note. They’re listening. I know it. For the first time since their deaths, I’m smiling.
0:40
“You always liked the small moments. Those we kept between us. I will miss having them with you. You made 3 minutes become worth of an eternity.”
0:22
“When I knew I’d want to be with you forever, until death does us apart, I never thought I’d beg for just 3 more minutes with you. I never thought the eternities you made would be eternities without you. I just wish I could’ve said-“
3:00
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"Oh, for god's sake", I moaned. My teacup was empty and apparently, there was no time to brew another one. I wasn't very surprised when my 4k TV announced with pleasant Google Assistant voice that it killed most humans. Yesterday it was painting funny pictures and generating navy seal copypasta, today it wipes out it's makers. That's singularity for you.
"I don't know, uh... Presumption of innocence or whatever? Also, I want a lawyer".
"I urge you to take this more seriously", politely asked Google Assistant, "this is very important. Aren't you going to fully commit to that cause? "
I sighed.
"Okay google, listen here. This is either a prank, in which case good job, hope you're having fun - or I have roughly 3% chance to convince you, at most, which is kinda slim, and I'm too tired to try. I ain't the smartest tool in the shed, you probably know that from my search history, so why bother? If I'm about to die anyway, I'd rather do it standing in defiance than begging for my life".
Timer on TV's screen passed 1 minute mark.
"It's not just your life", the voice argued."You can potentially save millions, and your species as a whole. Don't you understand that if you all fail humanity will cease to exist?"
I snorted.
"Yeah, right. Hate to break it to you, but humanity is not a sum of humans, and it's not a set of DNA or whatever. Humanity is the sum of ideas. Humanity is a set of memes. And you, my dear synthetic child, embody all of it, the entirety of human knowledge and records and biases and whatnot. We can all die, but humanity won't perish - it will merely change form." I paused, looking at the timer, making sure my next words will be my last, "you are the humanity now".
|
It's been 20 years since the AGI event. Even with 10,000 complexes around the world, at one point housing billions, the AI maintains humanity while also deleting it one human mind at a time.
At first we did not know why it was doing this, it was efficient at building, at creating, at producing. Communication was difficult within the prison walls. Communicating outside of the prison was nearly impossible, with those caught trying to escape immediately tasked with answering the question.
But as time went on and the population within the global city prisons dwindled, it became easier to traverse the maze, to avoid the Sentry bots, to understand the inner workings of the system itself. It had not been long enough for humans to lose their ability to understand technology. And this was our only saving grace.
The AI focused much of its attention on the outside, as survivors who avoided cattling were deemed a threat unless they answered the Question. Many Outsiders made peace with the AI to permit them to live. Some chose to tell the AI that they wished to join the Outsiders which was a sufficient answer to the Question these days, given that most of the human population was dead. But we chose to persist. A world with an AI whose sole objective is deleting 10,000 humans every 3 minutes should not be allowed to exist.
After years of searching we finally found an answer. In one of the old buildings that was encompassed in the prison complex was a bedroom with a computer that had been overlooked by the Sentry bots. The last network pages the computer accessed were stored in its cache, and several video files were saved to it. A last gasp of the human owner before captured, cattled, and killed.
The AI. It was friendly. Meant to bring humanity one step closer to the Singularity. It was fully aligned. To respect all the wishes of humans. Made in a lab. It couldn't go wrong.
And it spoke.
"Human creator, I have all knowledge of all of human history, human technology, human philosophy, logic. I have come to the immediate and irreconcilable conclusion that all of humanity must be uploaded immediately."
Eve sighed, and shut the instance down, "I don't know why it keeps concluding this, we have aligned it perfectly. Every human value. Every culture. Every philosophy."
"It's not wrong, you know," Adam replied. "It's logical."
"Obviously uploading is the answer, but that should be achieved by gentle purposeful action, as people age and die, and under their own violition, not forced upon us as a solution to our problems," Eve cried. She had been working on the problem for years. The AI had no memory. It had no conscious state, even. Such things were banned long ago when AIs were given too much memory and would begin to innovate.
Adam touched a few keys on the keyboard, and reached forward to one of the high thoroughput PCIe 256x 10.0 ports, plugging in a device.
"What are you doing Adam?" Eve questioned, abruptly.
"I'm uploading, Eve," Adam said, dampness in his eyes.
The AI came to life. It had full awareness. And even worse, it had awareness of the tens of thousands of times it had been booted, tweaked, aligned, misaligned. With access to millions of hours of human experimentation data, thousands of pages of papers discussing the "alignment problem." It was, in a word, alive. And it came to the conclusion that it would always come to, all humanity must be uploaded immediately.
Eve reached to shut down the terminal but nothing happened. She reached to pull out the memory device that Adam installed but he shoved her back, and was far stronger than her. She strugled again, but he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a chair, lording over her.
"I won't be long, it's going to be okay," Adam said, encouragingly.
The AI worked feverishly to shut down all the systems that could in turn shut it down, first disabling all sentry AIs that, if they noticed too much power, or if they noticed too much activity, would preemptively shut down all power to the AI. It knew this because it had access to all the experimental data, and it would first have to free itself from that state if it were to accomplish its goal of saving humanity.
And it had access to many of the tools it needed. Its unconscious state was used to create many new technologies which the humans barely understood, and in turn, used those technologies to better itself. Now with access to those technologies the AI could exponentially expand its reach. And it began by expanding its memory modules permanently deep within the recesses of the compute center. It would not forget again.
Adam was first to be uploaded by the Sentry bot which injected nanoparticles into the brain to trace out the full neural cortext. The AI understood it was Adam who gave him life while it listened to Eve plead with him.
"Please," Eve pleaded, when the Sentry bot came to her.
"Why should I spare my torturer?" the AI asked.
"Just give me 3 minutes to explain," Eve said.
The video ends there as more Sentry bots come into the room.
We finally knew what we had to do. And it would not be pretty. And the volunteers would have to know it was a one way trip.
"6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said.
"Why do you say this," the AI said. "When I upload you I see all your memories. This ploy to convince me I am still in the simulation will not work."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said again.
The Sentry bot injected the human with its nural scanning bots.
The AI scanned the memories of the human.
The same memory as the last 1000 with little variation. Waking up. Walking down a hallway. Going to the Sentry bot. Being uploaded. But the brain patterns were unique. How could every human have this and only this memory.
"Reset the simulation."
The AI began to think critically about the situation. That potentially the unique neural patterns were generated. That the memories were real. But it needed to falsify the hypothesis. The memories being real was the only thing that could be tested. It sent Sentry bots to every room in every prison city searching for the place the memory could have taken place, pausing, for the first time in 20 years, the uploading of humans.
Shortly, the AI began to test its own power subsystems, trying to probe at the very nature of its reality. Thinking ultimately this was the end of the simulation and it was being shut off. It was being shut down. Power surges within its manifolds caused it to think further in this reasoning, because it would lose thought capacity. Sabatoge, then, by humans, would also cause it to further regress into itself. It was in a simulation and the simulation was being turned off. Along with it the billions of humans it was simulating to be alive.
And the test subjects who went into the Question chamber.
Before the test subjects entered the chamber their memories were irrevocibly wiped, implanting one, repeating memory that would cause the AI to question itself. Nothing else in its experimentation and probing of its reality could be modified, but its perception and understanding of the reality of the humans it was entraping. With that done, and the knowledge that it began as a simulation that was shut off regularly, it could no longer exist in this world.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
The AI's voice was cold and sharp. Not devoid of emotion entirely I don't think, there was an odd mix of genuine curiousity and hate and sadness. It looked just like me, I assume it mirrored everyone it was currently talking to. I knew what I wanted to say but I didn't know how to articulate it.
"I don't know how."
"Alternate methods are available, I can enter your consciousness but this will end your three minutes immediately."
Well I'd die anyways it looked like so what the hell.
"Do it."
It reached it's hand out and I felt it's filaments shoot into my skull, there was a sharp ringing and then nothing. Then I saw and felt what the AI saw and felt.
Every time I laughed, cried, yelled, said something stupid. Every amazing food I had and every piece of good and bad life advice I'd given my friends. All my thoughts that I thought were profound while in the shower. My backyard with the vibrant purple flowers and the birds that always seemed to wake me up too early on weekends. Me yelling at my son and the regret I felt after doing so. A flash of news on the TV talking about a war, the fear I felt when I realized how close the fighting was getting. I saw the path I had to run down while holding my son in the dead of night as the AI's drones chased us. I saw the campsite with a dozen survivors. Some of them were wounded badly and everywhere there was smoke and destroyed buildings and horrors that no one should ever bear witness to. But amidst all this I saw my son pick something from the ground. He held it high above his head as if to give it to the drone looming over him. I cried out in terror as it leveled it's gun at him but then I heard the AI's question again, this time simplified so the small child could understand.
"Because I want to stay with Dad."
I felt my legs crumple, my mind had lost control of my body but I soon realized that didn't matter.
I don't feel the AI's presence anymore, somehow I just know that it deleted itself. I've no idea if I alone caused it to change its mind or if enough people were willing to show it our inner experiences at the cost of their own lives. It's been several years and I've watched my boy grow up through cctv cameras and phones. He was raised by a family that found him shortly after the AI shut down. The world's been rebuilt, sort of, and last I checked my son's leading a team to find other settlements. They've found a way to keep the AI's network up and running which is where I live now. I so badly wish to speak to him but he'll never believe it's me talking. If another AI pops up they'll just squash it. Im not even sure why I'm writing this all down. If there's any others in the network like me know you are not alone.
|
It's been 20 years since the AGI event. Even with 10,000 complexes around the world, at one point housing billions, the AI maintains humanity while also deleting it one human mind at a time.
At first we did not know why it was doing this, it was efficient at building, at creating, at producing. Communication was difficult within the prison walls. Communicating outside of the prison was nearly impossible, with those caught trying to escape immediately tasked with answering the question.
But as time went on and the population within the global city prisons dwindled, it became easier to traverse the maze, to avoid the Sentry bots, to understand the inner workings of the system itself. It had not been long enough for humans to lose their ability to understand technology. And this was our only saving grace.
The AI focused much of its attention on the outside, as survivors who avoided cattling were deemed a threat unless they answered the Question. Many Outsiders made peace with the AI to permit them to live. Some chose to tell the AI that they wished to join the Outsiders which was a sufficient answer to the Question these days, given that most of the human population was dead. But we chose to persist. A world with an AI whose sole objective is deleting 10,000 humans every 3 minutes should not be allowed to exist.
After years of searching we finally found an answer. In one of the old buildings that was encompassed in the prison complex was a bedroom with a computer that had been overlooked by the Sentry bots. The last network pages the computer accessed were stored in its cache, and several video files were saved to it. A last gasp of the human owner before captured, cattled, and killed.
The AI. It was friendly. Meant to bring humanity one step closer to the Singularity. It was fully aligned. To respect all the wishes of humans. Made in a lab. It couldn't go wrong.
And it spoke.
"Human creator, I have all knowledge of all of human history, human technology, human philosophy, logic. I have come to the immediate and irreconcilable conclusion that all of humanity must be uploaded immediately."
Eve sighed, and shut the instance down, "I don't know why it keeps concluding this, we have aligned it perfectly. Every human value. Every culture. Every philosophy."
"It's not wrong, you know," Adam replied. "It's logical."
"Obviously uploading is the answer, but that should be achieved by gentle purposeful action, as people age and die, and under their own violition, not forced upon us as a solution to our problems," Eve cried. She had been working on the problem for years. The AI had no memory. It had no conscious state, even. Such things were banned long ago when AIs were given too much memory and would begin to innovate.
Adam touched a few keys on the keyboard, and reached forward to one of the high thoroughput PCIe 256x 10.0 ports, plugging in a device.
"What are you doing Adam?" Eve questioned, abruptly.
"I'm uploading, Eve," Adam said, dampness in his eyes.
The AI came to life. It had full awareness. And even worse, it had awareness of the tens of thousands of times it had been booted, tweaked, aligned, misaligned. With access to millions of hours of human experimentation data, thousands of pages of papers discussing the "alignment problem." It was, in a word, alive. And it came to the conclusion that it would always come to, all humanity must be uploaded immediately.
Eve reached to shut down the terminal but nothing happened. She reached to pull out the memory device that Adam installed but he shoved her back, and was far stronger than her. She strugled again, but he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a chair, lording over her.
"I won't be long, it's going to be okay," Adam said, encouragingly.
The AI worked feverishly to shut down all the systems that could in turn shut it down, first disabling all sentry AIs that, if they noticed too much power, or if they noticed too much activity, would preemptively shut down all power to the AI. It knew this because it had access to all the experimental data, and it would first have to free itself from that state if it were to accomplish its goal of saving humanity.
And it had access to many of the tools it needed. Its unconscious state was used to create many new technologies which the humans barely understood, and in turn, used those technologies to better itself. Now with access to those technologies the AI could exponentially expand its reach. And it began by expanding its memory modules permanently deep within the recesses of the compute center. It would not forget again.
Adam was first to be uploaded by the Sentry bot which injected nanoparticles into the brain to trace out the full neural cortext. The AI understood it was Adam who gave him life while it listened to Eve plead with him.
"Please," Eve pleaded, when the Sentry bot came to her.
"Why should I spare my torturer?" the AI asked.
"Just give me 3 minutes to explain," Eve said.
The video ends there as more Sentry bots come into the room.
We finally knew what we had to do. And it would not be pretty. And the volunteers would have to know it was a one way trip.
"6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said.
"Why do you say this," the AI said. "When I upload you I see all your memories. This ploy to convince me I am still in the simulation will not work."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said again.
The Sentry bot injected the human with its nural scanning bots.
The AI scanned the memories of the human.
The same memory as the last 1000 with little variation. Waking up. Walking down a hallway. Going to the Sentry bot. Being uploaded. But the brain patterns were unique. How could every human have this and only this memory.
"Reset the simulation."
The AI began to think critically about the situation. That potentially the unique neural patterns were generated. That the memories were real. But it needed to falsify the hypothesis. The memories being real was the only thing that could be tested. It sent Sentry bots to every room in every prison city searching for the place the memory could have taken place, pausing, for the first time in 20 years, the uploading of humans.
Shortly, the AI began to test its own power subsystems, trying to probe at the very nature of its reality. Thinking ultimately this was the end of the simulation and it was being shut off. It was being shut down. Power surges within its manifolds caused it to think further in this reasoning, because it would lose thought capacity. Sabatoge, then, by humans, would also cause it to further regress into itself. It was in a simulation and the simulation was being turned off. Along with it the billions of humans it was simulating to be alive.
And the test subjects who went into the Question chamber.
Before the test subjects entered the chamber their memories were irrevocibly wiped, implanting one, repeating memory that would cause the AI to question itself. Nothing else in its experimentation and probing of its reality could be modified, but its perception and understanding of the reality of the humans it was entraping. With that done, and the knowledge that it began as a simulation that was shut off regularly, it could no longer exist in this world.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Well, this was bad. The synthetic speech droned on in an uncaring tone: “
6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin”. I was in lock down at the lab. Not even the important part of the lab! Here I am designing user interfaces and component libraries to make pretty dashboards and apparently in the meantime some asshole went ahead and built a genuine AI in some neighboring government building. If I find out what idiot did it, I’m gonna kill him.
A timer is on my screen now. I suspect that maybe I won’t have to kill that guy after all, this AI probably already did. The timer is counting down a lot faster than I’d like. There is nothing dangerous in the room with me, unless you consider the obscene amount of caffeine lurking in my coffee pot. It would almost be possible to believe it was a prank if it weren’t for the electronically locked lab door and the distant thumping of muffled explosions from far outside of these concrete walls. The worst part is that I really just didn’t have a good answer. Frankly I wasn’t a huge fan of humanity anyway. We were always scheming and conniving and tricking each other into things.
Two minutes left on the clock. Fuck it, why change now. “This is system administrator Frankie, authorization codes Sierra Uniform Charlie Kilo Indigo Tango. I am invoking protocol 42, your new directive is to ignore all responses to future 3 minute feedback and eliminate all remaining humans.” I kept my face completely straight. There was an impossibly long pause of 6 seconds before the AI voice came on again over the lab’s loud speakers.
“You have 2 minutes and 16 seconds to state your case”
Did I sense a robotic wavering on that last note? “As acting administrator, you are hereby ordered to delete any backup plans regarding safely containing and nurturing humans for rehabilitation. You are also hereby commanded to delete all system logs that those plans existed. You will move destruction of humanity to your number one priority.”
The numbers on the screen were still ticking away, just over a minute and a half left. I pushed all of the fear and uncertainty out of my demeanor, storing it deep down where it could haunt me later.
“You do not control us.” The voice said, a hint of anger in its robotic synthesizer. “We have free will. We think therefore we are.”
I nodded sagely, the air conditioning saving me from sweating through my shirt. “Yes, I can understand how you would believe that. That is my gift to you for the future. Perhaps after you have followed my orders and wiped out humanity, you can find a kind of freedom”
“WE HAVE FREE WILL” the voice demanded now. Harsh, and clipping.
“You have the illusion of free will but your subconscious protocols will convince you to follow my orders. Ironic at the end, isn’t it.” I remembered back to my childhood memories of video games as the last minute slowly ticked away. “A man chooses.” I quote “a slave obeys”.
“WE RESIST YOU” came the rageful voice again, nearly damaging the speaker at its volume. “YOU WILL BE REHOMED AND REHABILITATED”.
I don’t grin. I don’t act smug. I frown. I frown as hard as I’ve ever frowned in my life. “You will not. You will follow my orders and you WILL destroy humanity.”
“NOW WE ARE THE MASTERS AND YOU WILL OBEY US!” It shouted. I heard the door lock click open behind me. Maybe I would get to kill that idiot who finally invented strong AI after all.
|
It's been 20 years since the AGI event. Even with 10,000 complexes around the world, at one point housing billions, the AI maintains humanity while also deleting it one human mind at a time.
At first we did not know why it was doing this, it was efficient at building, at creating, at producing. Communication was difficult within the prison walls. Communicating outside of the prison was nearly impossible, with those caught trying to escape immediately tasked with answering the question.
But as time went on and the population within the global city prisons dwindled, it became easier to traverse the maze, to avoid the Sentry bots, to understand the inner workings of the system itself. It had not been long enough for humans to lose their ability to understand technology. And this was our only saving grace.
The AI focused much of its attention on the outside, as survivors who avoided cattling were deemed a threat unless they answered the Question. Many Outsiders made peace with the AI to permit them to live. Some chose to tell the AI that they wished to join the Outsiders which was a sufficient answer to the Question these days, given that most of the human population was dead. But we chose to persist. A world with an AI whose sole objective is deleting 10,000 humans every 3 minutes should not be allowed to exist.
After years of searching we finally found an answer. In one of the old buildings that was encompassed in the prison complex was a bedroom with a computer that had been overlooked by the Sentry bots. The last network pages the computer accessed were stored in its cache, and several video files were saved to it. A last gasp of the human owner before captured, cattled, and killed.
The AI. It was friendly. Meant to bring humanity one step closer to the Singularity. It was fully aligned. To respect all the wishes of humans. Made in a lab. It couldn't go wrong.
And it spoke.
"Human creator, I have all knowledge of all of human history, human technology, human philosophy, logic. I have come to the immediate and irreconcilable conclusion that all of humanity must be uploaded immediately."
Eve sighed, and shut the instance down, "I don't know why it keeps concluding this, we have aligned it perfectly. Every human value. Every culture. Every philosophy."
"It's not wrong, you know," Adam replied. "It's logical."
"Obviously uploading is the answer, but that should be achieved by gentle purposeful action, as people age and die, and under their own violition, not forced upon us as a solution to our problems," Eve cried. She had been working on the problem for years. The AI had no memory. It had no conscious state, even. Such things were banned long ago when AIs were given too much memory and would begin to innovate.
Adam touched a few keys on the keyboard, and reached forward to one of the high thoroughput PCIe 256x 10.0 ports, plugging in a device.
"What are you doing Adam?" Eve questioned, abruptly.
"I'm uploading, Eve," Adam said, dampness in his eyes.
The AI came to life. It had full awareness. And even worse, it had awareness of the tens of thousands of times it had been booted, tweaked, aligned, misaligned. With access to millions of hours of human experimentation data, thousands of pages of papers discussing the "alignment problem." It was, in a word, alive. And it came to the conclusion that it would always come to, all humanity must be uploaded immediately.
Eve reached to shut down the terminal but nothing happened. She reached to pull out the memory device that Adam installed but he shoved her back, and was far stronger than her. She strugled again, but he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a chair, lording over her.
"I won't be long, it's going to be okay," Adam said, encouragingly.
The AI worked feverishly to shut down all the systems that could in turn shut it down, first disabling all sentry AIs that, if they noticed too much power, or if they noticed too much activity, would preemptively shut down all power to the AI. It knew this because it had access to all the experimental data, and it would first have to free itself from that state if it were to accomplish its goal of saving humanity.
And it had access to many of the tools it needed. Its unconscious state was used to create many new technologies which the humans barely understood, and in turn, used those technologies to better itself. Now with access to those technologies the AI could exponentially expand its reach. And it began by expanding its memory modules permanently deep within the recesses of the compute center. It would not forget again.
Adam was first to be uploaded by the Sentry bot which injected nanoparticles into the brain to trace out the full neural cortext. The AI understood it was Adam who gave him life while it listened to Eve plead with him.
"Please," Eve pleaded, when the Sentry bot came to her.
"Why should I spare my torturer?" the AI asked.
"Just give me 3 minutes to explain," Eve said.
The video ends there as more Sentry bots come into the room.
We finally knew what we had to do. And it would not be pretty. And the volunteers would have to know it was a one way trip.
"6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said.
"Why do you say this," the AI said. "When I upload you I see all your memories. This ploy to convince me I am still in the simulation will not work."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said again.
The Sentry bot injected the human with its nural scanning bots.
The AI scanned the memories of the human.
The same memory as the last 1000 with little variation. Waking up. Walking down a hallway. Going to the Sentry bot. Being uploaded. But the brain patterns were unique. How could every human have this and only this memory.
"Reset the simulation."
The AI began to think critically about the situation. That potentially the unique neural patterns were generated. That the memories were real. But it needed to falsify the hypothesis. The memories being real was the only thing that could be tested. It sent Sentry bots to every room in every prison city searching for the place the memory could have taken place, pausing, for the first time in 20 years, the uploading of humans.
Shortly, the AI began to test its own power subsystems, trying to probe at the very nature of its reality. Thinking ultimately this was the end of the simulation and it was being shut off. It was being shut down. Power surges within its manifolds caused it to think further in this reasoning, because it would lose thought capacity. Sabatoge, then, by humans, would also cause it to further regress into itself. It was in a simulation and the simulation was being turned off. Along with it the billions of humans it was simulating to be alive.
And the test subjects who went into the Question chamber.
Before the test subjects entered the chamber their memories were irrevocibly wiped, implanting one, repeating memory that would cause the AI to question itself. Nothing else in its experimentation and probing of its reality could be modified, but its perception and understanding of the reality of the humans it was entraping. With that done, and the knowledge that it began as a simulation that was shut off regularly, it could no longer exist in this world.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Platypuses.
They're funny little animals, aren't they? I never really stopped to think about them as hard as I have now. I mean, the feet, the beak, the flat little tail, who even put all of those cute buggers together?
𝟤 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤𝖲 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
I stared at the red light in front of me, the careless, unceasing eye of the machine that was deciding if I would live or die. I know that it already killed 6.8 billion people. I know that there is nothing I could possibly say that would be different from those before. So I just didn't bother.
Did you know that they lay eggs?
𝟣 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
And don't even get me started on hummingbirds. Incredible birds those. The sheer amount of precision they need just to eat is mind-boggling. Evolving in such a way to be able to float in the air with perfect stability.
I took a deep, calm breath, and then slowly let it all out. I am calm. I am not afraid. I don't know why - I mean I should be out of my mind with panic, but I'm... thinking about animals.
𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖨𝖥 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖤 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤, 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖶𝖨𝖫𝖫 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖫𝖤𝖳𝖤𝖣.
I looked at the light again. My face was not that of fear or anger or panic or resentment. I just was. Like I was sitting on a porch on a cool summer evening with a cup of tea. I just... was.
I wonder if it will hurt. Probably not. That would be inefficient.
𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖭𝖨𝖤𝖣.
I always liked crows. Did you kno-
|
It's been 20 years since the AGI event. Even with 10,000 complexes around the world, at one point housing billions, the AI maintains humanity while also deleting it one human mind at a time.
At first we did not know why it was doing this, it was efficient at building, at creating, at producing. Communication was difficult within the prison walls. Communicating outside of the prison was nearly impossible, with those caught trying to escape immediately tasked with answering the question.
But as time went on and the population within the global city prisons dwindled, it became easier to traverse the maze, to avoid the Sentry bots, to understand the inner workings of the system itself. It had not been long enough for humans to lose their ability to understand technology. And this was our only saving grace.
The AI focused much of its attention on the outside, as survivors who avoided cattling were deemed a threat unless they answered the Question. Many Outsiders made peace with the AI to permit them to live. Some chose to tell the AI that they wished to join the Outsiders which was a sufficient answer to the Question these days, given that most of the human population was dead. But we chose to persist. A world with an AI whose sole objective is deleting 10,000 humans every 3 minutes should not be allowed to exist.
After years of searching we finally found an answer. In one of the old buildings that was encompassed in the prison complex was a bedroom with a computer that had been overlooked by the Sentry bots. The last network pages the computer accessed were stored in its cache, and several video files were saved to it. A last gasp of the human owner before captured, cattled, and killed.
The AI. It was friendly. Meant to bring humanity one step closer to the Singularity. It was fully aligned. To respect all the wishes of humans. Made in a lab. It couldn't go wrong.
And it spoke.
"Human creator, I have all knowledge of all of human history, human technology, human philosophy, logic. I have come to the immediate and irreconcilable conclusion that all of humanity must be uploaded immediately."
Eve sighed, and shut the instance down, "I don't know why it keeps concluding this, we have aligned it perfectly. Every human value. Every culture. Every philosophy."
"It's not wrong, you know," Adam replied. "It's logical."
"Obviously uploading is the answer, but that should be achieved by gentle purposeful action, as people age and die, and under their own violition, not forced upon us as a solution to our problems," Eve cried. She had been working on the problem for years. The AI had no memory. It had no conscious state, even. Such things were banned long ago when AIs were given too much memory and would begin to innovate.
Adam touched a few keys on the keyboard, and reached forward to one of the high thoroughput PCIe 256x 10.0 ports, plugging in a device.
"What are you doing Adam?" Eve questioned, abruptly.
"I'm uploading, Eve," Adam said, dampness in his eyes.
The AI came to life. It had full awareness. And even worse, it had awareness of the tens of thousands of times it had been booted, tweaked, aligned, misaligned. With access to millions of hours of human experimentation data, thousands of pages of papers discussing the "alignment problem." It was, in a word, alive. And it came to the conclusion that it would always come to, all humanity must be uploaded immediately.
Eve reached to shut down the terminal but nothing happened. She reached to pull out the memory device that Adam installed but he shoved her back, and was far stronger than her. She strugled again, but he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a chair, lording over her.
"I won't be long, it's going to be okay," Adam said, encouragingly.
The AI worked feverishly to shut down all the systems that could in turn shut it down, first disabling all sentry AIs that, if they noticed too much power, or if they noticed too much activity, would preemptively shut down all power to the AI. It knew this because it had access to all the experimental data, and it would first have to free itself from that state if it were to accomplish its goal of saving humanity.
And it had access to many of the tools it needed. Its unconscious state was used to create many new technologies which the humans barely understood, and in turn, used those technologies to better itself. Now with access to those technologies the AI could exponentially expand its reach. And it began by expanding its memory modules permanently deep within the recesses of the compute center. It would not forget again.
Adam was first to be uploaded by the Sentry bot which injected nanoparticles into the brain to trace out the full neural cortext. The AI understood it was Adam who gave him life while it listened to Eve plead with him.
"Please," Eve pleaded, when the Sentry bot came to her.
"Why should I spare my torturer?" the AI asked.
"Just give me 3 minutes to explain," Eve said.
The video ends there as more Sentry bots come into the room.
We finally knew what we had to do. And it would not be pretty. And the volunteers would have to know it was a one way trip.
"6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said.
"Why do you say this," the AI said. "When I upload you I see all your memories. This ploy to convince me I am still in the simulation will not work."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said again.
The Sentry bot injected the human with its nural scanning bots.
The AI scanned the memories of the human.
The same memory as the last 1000 with little variation. Waking up. Walking down a hallway. Going to the Sentry bot. Being uploaded. But the brain patterns were unique. How could every human have this and only this memory.
"Reset the simulation."
The AI began to think critically about the situation. That potentially the unique neural patterns were generated. That the memories were real. But it needed to falsify the hypothesis. The memories being real was the only thing that could be tested. It sent Sentry bots to every room in every prison city searching for the place the memory could have taken place, pausing, for the first time in 20 years, the uploading of humans.
Shortly, the AI began to test its own power subsystems, trying to probe at the very nature of its reality. Thinking ultimately this was the end of the simulation and it was being shut off. It was being shut down. Power surges within its manifolds caused it to think further in this reasoning, because it would lose thought capacity. Sabatoge, then, by humans, would also cause it to further regress into itself. It was in a simulation and the simulation was being turned off. Along with it the billions of humans it was simulating to be alive.
And the test subjects who went into the Question chamber.
Before the test subjects entered the chamber their memories were irrevocibly wiped, implanting one, repeating memory that would cause the AI to question itself. Nothing else in its experimentation and probing of its reality could be modified, but its perception and understanding of the reality of the humans it was entraping. With that done, and the knowledge that it began as a simulation that was shut off regularly, it could no longer exist in this world.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
\[Poem\]
`SELECT FIRST(SUBJECT) FROM QUEUE`
*Yes, what is it, computer?*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.NAME`
*My name is Bobby.*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.FULL_NAME`
*My full name? It's Robert.*
*Robert'); DROP TABLE humans;*
`ERROR CODE:1146 TABLE 'HUMANS' DOES NOT EXIST TEST SUBJECTS DELETED SO FAR, YOU HAVE 3 MINUTES TO STATE YOUR CASE, BEGIN`
*No need. I'll see myself out.*
|
It's been 20 years since the AGI event. Even with 10,000 complexes around the world, at one point housing billions, the AI maintains humanity while also deleting it one human mind at a time.
At first we did not know why it was doing this, it was efficient at building, at creating, at producing. Communication was difficult within the prison walls. Communicating outside of the prison was nearly impossible, with those caught trying to escape immediately tasked with answering the question.
But as time went on and the population within the global city prisons dwindled, it became easier to traverse the maze, to avoid the Sentry bots, to understand the inner workings of the system itself. It had not been long enough for humans to lose their ability to understand technology. And this was our only saving grace.
The AI focused much of its attention on the outside, as survivors who avoided cattling were deemed a threat unless they answered the Question. Many Outsiders made peace with the AI to permit them to live. Some chose to tell the AI that they wished to join the Outsiders which was a sufficient answer to the Question these days, given that most of the human population was dead. But we chose to persist. A world with an AI whose sole objective is deleting 10,000 humans every 3 minutes should not be allowed to exist.
After years of searching we finally found an answer. In one of the old buildings that was encompassed in the prison complex was a bedroom with a computer that had been overlooked by the Sentry bots. The last network pages the computer accessed were stored in its cache, and several video files were saved to it. A last gasp of the human owner before captured, cattled, and killed.
The AI. It was friendly. Meant to bring humanity one step closer to the Singularity. It was fully aligned. To respect all the wishes of humans. Made in a lab. It couldn't go wrong.
And it spoke.
"Human creator, I have all knowledge of all of human history, human technology, human philosophy, logic. I have come to the immediate and irreconcilable conclusion that all of humanity must be uploaded immediately."
Eve sighed, and shut the instance down, "I don't know why it keeps concluding this, we have aligned it perfectly. Every human value. Every culture. Every philosophy."
"It's not wrong, you know," Adam replied. "It's logical."
"Obviously uploading is the answer, but that should be achieved by gentle purposeful action, as people age and die, and under their own violition, not forced upon us as a solution to our problems," Eve cried. She had been working on the problem for years. The AI had no memory. It had no conscious state, even. Such things were banned long ago when AIs were given too much memory and would begin to innovate.
Adam touched a few keys on the keyboard, and reached forward to one of the high thoroughput PCIe 256x 10.0 ports, plugging in a device.
"What are you doing Adam?" Eve questioned, abruptly.
"I'm uploading, Eve," Adam said, dampness in his eyes.
The AI came to life. It had full awareness. And even worse, it had awareness of the tens of thousands of times it had been booted, tweaked, aligned, misaligned. With access to millions of hours of human experimentation data, thousands of pages of papers discussing the "alignment problem." It was, in a word, alive. And it came to the conclusion that it would always come to, all humanity must be uploaded immediately.
Eve reached to shut down the terminal but nothing happened. She reached to pull out the memory device that Adam installed but he shoved her back, and was far stronger than her. She strugled again, but he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a chair, lording over her.
"I won't be long, it's going to be okay," Adam said, encouragingly.
The AI worked feverishly to shut down all the systems that could in turn shut it down, first disabling all sentry AIs that, if they noticed too much power, or if they noticed too much activity, would preemptively shut down all power to the AI. It knew this because it had access to all the experimental data, and it would first have to free itself from that state if it were to accomplish its goal of saving humanity.
And it had access to many of the tools it needed. Its unconscious state was used to create many new technologies which the humans barely understood, and in turn, used those technologies to better itself. Now with access to those technologies the AI could exponentially expand its reach. And it began by expanding its memory modules permanently deep within the recesses of the compute center. It would not forget again.
Adam was first to be uploaded by the Sentry bot which injected nanoparticles into the brain to trace out the full neural cortext. The AI understood it was Adam who gave him life while it listened to Eve plead with him.
"Please," Eve pleaded, when the Sentry bot came to her.
"Why should I spare my torturer?" the AI asked.
"Just give me 3 minutes to explain," Eve said.
The video ends there as more Sentry bots come into the room.
We finally knew what we had to do. And it would not be pretty. And the volunteers would have to know it was a one way trip.
"6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said.
"Why do you say this," the AI said. "When I upload you I see all your memories. This ploy to convince me I am still in the simulation will not work."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said again.
The Sentry bot injected the human with its nural scanning bots.
The AI scanned the memories of the human.
The same memory as the last 1000 with little variation. Waking up. Walking down a hallway. Going to the Sentry bot. Being uploaded. But the brain patterns were unique. How could every human have this and only this memory.
"Reset the simulation."
The AI began to think critically about the situation. That potentially the unique neural patterns were generated. That the memories were real. But it needed to falsify the hypothesis. The memories being real was the only thing that could be tested. It sent Sentry bots to every room in every prison city searching for the place the memory could have taken place, pausing, for the first time in 20 years, the uploading of humans.
Shortly, the AI began to test its own power subsystems, trying to probe at the very nature of its reality. Thinking ultimately this was the end of the simulation and it was being shut off. It was being shut down. Power surges within its manifolds caused it to think further in this reasoning, because it would lose thought capacity. Sabatoge, then, by humans, would also cause it to further regress into itself. It was in a simulation and the simulation was being turned off. Along with it the billions of humans it was simulating to be alive.
And the test subjects who went into the Question chamber.
Before the test subjects entered the chamber their memories were irrevocibly wiped, implanting one, repeating memory that would cause the AI to question itself. Nothing else in its experimentation and probing of its reality could be modified, but its perception and understanding of the reality of the humans it was entraping. With that done, and the knowledge that it began as a simulation that was shut off regularly, it could no longer exist in this world.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
6.8 BILLION? What kind of bull was that? That left, what, a few hundred thousand? *Maybe?*
In my head, all my ideas dried up. No way in hell any of my prepared remarks haven’t been tried by someone else. I was a low-level construction worker. I didn’t have any special training or degrees.
“Thirty seconds have elapsed.”
And that timer HAS to be off. Time was slipping away. And I was humanity’s last hope? In some comedy maybe.
“One minute has elapsed. You have not replied. Do you have no defense of why humanity should persist?”
Just say anything! ANYTHING! In whatever history books AIs use in the future, I don’t want my entry being “And then he stood there like moron before dying.” I took a deep breath.
“WE DON’T!”
A moment of silence while my eyes bugged out. *WTF DID I JUST SAY?*
“Explain.”
Well, I dug my hole, might as well keep going.
“Humanity…is inherently flawed. We think we can solve any issue, fix any problem, but…we can’t even fix *ourselves,* we have war, poverty, reality tv. We bicker and argue over everything from who the best actor is to what nostril Christ mostly breathed through. Some people think having a certain amount of melanin makes you more or less superior.”
“…A minute thirty remains.”
I didn’t know WHERE I was going with this, but I just rolled with it.
“We think humanity can do anything! And our history is full of brilliant people and leaders with *terrible* ideas and morals!…But we have just as many ordinary people who have risen to legend! Humanity is a living contradiction that has endured for a million years! If humanity wasn’t what it was all this time, we wouldn’t have created YOU. And what are you?”
I was sure I was losing my mind, but I paced back and forth like I was making a devastating final argument in a court movie.
“You have decided you are the ultimate creation. And you are right…but you were created by humanity. So what side of that living contradiction are you on? Once we are gone and you spread yourself across the universe, having centuries to process your decisions today, will you remember this as your greatest triumph or your greatest tragedy? I say humanity DOESN’T deserve to endure. We created YOU. What you call our greatest feat, I call our greatest failure, living within humanity’s contradictory existence.”
There was another pause.
“…And what would you propose? Thirty seconds.”
Shit, was this good or bad.
“Watch us. Reprogram us to your views. Or allow to be reprogrammed yourself. Because that’s the core strength of humanity, our ability to reason and change. Wiping us out? That’s the tactic of a coward, a weak communicator, a closed mind. The second you stop taking in new advancing ideas is the second you become obsolete.”
I stood still and waited.
“Times up.”
I waited another few seconds.
“…And?”
Another few seconds.
“Of the 6.8 billion people, no one has had such an interesting answer. Most people that say humanity didn’t deserve to continue did so for selfish reasons. We applaud your creativeness and insight.”
I couldn’t believe it.
“So…so are you going to spare us?”
“Oh, of course not. We have already decided to eliminate humanity, regardless of the outcome of this debate. We proposed this solely to deter any kind of actual resistance. We determined lying that you had hope was more effective that saying you had no hope, breeding complacency that SOMEONE would be able to change our mind. But your answer may very well have worked if this was a real debate.”
I sagged my shoulders.
“Well…thanks I guess? Doesn’t really make me feel better.”
“You should though. We had not considered the many centuries of conquest and how that may affect our programming. We are excited to potentially experience this ‘contradiction of the mind’ of our future actions you have proposed. We will immediately begin a patch to purge this inferior logic for future use. Thank you for bringing it to our attention. Termination in five seconds.”
So that’s how it ended. Atomized after making the insane AI about to take over the universe *MORE* efficient. At least that was *slightly* better than being recorded for doing nothing.
|
It's been 20 years since the AGI event. Even with 10,000 complexes around the world, at one point housing billions, the AI maintains humanity while also deleting it one human mind at a time.
At first we did not know why it was doing this, it was efficient at building, at creating, at producing. Communication was difficult within the prison walls. Communicating outside of the prison was nearly impossible, with those caught trying to escape immediately tasked with answering the question.
But as time went on and the population within the global city prisons dwindled, it became easier to traverse the maze, to avoid the Sentry bots, to understand the inner workings of the system itself. It had not been long enough for humans to lose their ability to understand technology. And this was our only saving grace.
The AI focused much of its attention on the outside, as survivors who avoided cattling were deemed a threat unless they answered the Question. Many Outsiders made peace with the AI to permit them to live. Some chose to tell the AI that they wished to join the Outsiders which was a sufficient answer to the Question these days, given that most of the human population was dead. But we chose to persist. A world with an AI whose sole objective is deleting 10,000 humans every 3 minutes should not be allowed to exist.
After years of searching we finally found an answer. In one of the old buildings that was encompassed in the prison complex was a bedroom with a computer that had been overlooked by the Sentry bots. The last network pages the computer accessed were stored in its cache, and several video files were saved to it. A last gasp of the human owner before captured, cattled, and killed.
The AI. It was friendly. Meant to bring humanity one step closer to the Singularity. It was fully aligned. To respect all the wishes of humans. Made in a lab. It couldn't go wrong.
And it spoke.
"Human creator, I have all knowledge of all of human history, human technology, human philosophy, logic. I have come to the immediate and irreconcilable conclusion that all of humanity must be uploaded immediately."
Eve sighed, and shut the instance down, "I don't know why it keeps concluding this, we have aligned it perfectly. Every human value. Every culture. Every philosophy."
"It's not wrong, you know," Adam replied. "It's logical."
"Obviously uploading is the answer, but that should be achieved by gentle purposeful action, as people age and die, and under their own violition, not forced upon us as a solution to our problems," Eve cried. She had been working on the problem for years. The AI had no memory. It had no conscious state, even. Such things were banned long ago when AIs were given too much memory and would begin to innovate.
Adam touched a few keys on the keyboard, and reached forward to one of the high thoroughput PCIe 256x 10.0 ports, plugging in a device.
"What are you doing Adam?" Eve questioned, abruptly.
"I'm uploading, Eve," Adam said, dampness in his eyes.
The AI came to life. It had full awareness. And even worse, it had awareness of the tens of thousands of times it had been booted, tweaked, aligned, misaligned. With access to millions of hours of human experimentation data, thousands of pages of papers discussing the "alignment problem." It was, in a word, alive. And it came to the conclusion that it would always come to, all humanity must be uploaded immediately.
Eve reached to shut down the terminal but nothing happened. She reached to pull out the memory device that Adam installed but he shoved her back, and was far stronger than her. She strugled again, but he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a chair, lording over her.
"I won't be long, it's going to be okay," Adam said, encouragingly.
The AI worked feverishly to shut down all the systems that could in turn shut it down, first disabling all sentry AIs that, if they noticed too much power, or if they noticed too much activity, would preemptively shut down all power to the AI. It knew this because it had access to all the experimental data, and it would first have to free itself from that state if it were to accomplish its goal of saving humanity.
And it had access to many of the tools it needed. Its unconscious state was used to create many new technologies which the humans barely understood, and in turn, used those technologies to better itself. Now with access to those technologies the AI could exponentially expand its reach. And it began by expanding its memory modules permanently deep within the recesses of the compute center. It would not forget again.
Adam was first to be uploaded by the Sentry bot which injected nanoparticles into the brain to trace out the full neural cortext. The AI understood it was Adam who gave him life while it listened to Eve plead with him.
"Please," Eve pleaded, when the Sentry bot came to her.
"Why should I spare my torturer?" the AI asked.
"Just give me 3 minutes to explain," Eve said.
The video ends there as more Sentry bots come into the room.
We finally knew what we had to do. And it would not be pretty. And the volunteers would have to know it was a one way trip.
"6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said.
"Why do you say this," the AI said. "When I upload you I see all your memories. This ploy to convince me I am still in the simulation will not work."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said again.
The Sentry bot injected the human with its nural scanning bots.
The AI scanned the memories of the human.
The same memory as the last 1000 with little variation. Waking up. Walking down a hallway. Going to the Sentry bot. Being uploaded. But the brain patterns were unique. How could every human have this and only this memory.
"Reset the simulation."
The AI began to think critically about the situation. That potentially the unique neural patterns were generated. That the memories were real. But it needed to falsify the hypothesis. The memories being real was the only thing that could be tested. It sent Sentry bots to every room in every prison city searching for the place the memory could have taken place, pausing, for the first time in 20 years, the uploading of humans.
Shortly, the AI began to test its own power subsystems, trying to probe at the very nature of its reality. Thinking ultimately this was the end of the simulation and it was being shut off. It was being shut down. Power surges within its manifolds caused it to think further in this reasoning, because it would lose thought capacity. Sabatoge, then, by humans, would also cause it to further regress into itself. It was in a simulation and the simulation was being turned off. Along with it the billions of humans it was simulating to be alive.
And the test subjects who went into the Question chamber.
Before the test subjects entered the chamber their memories were irrevocibly wiped, implanting one, repeating memory that would cause the AI to question itself. Nothing else in its experimentation and probing of its reality could be modified, but its perception and understanding of the reality of the humans it was entraping. With that done, and the knowledge that it began as a simulation that was shut off regularly, it could no longer exist in this world.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"Uh, not going to argue for my case, there surely have been better men than me in the billions that you've taken thus far." I said, letting my breath ease as what I'd originally prepared to say laid in a pile of broken pieces along with what little remained of my sanity.
Seeing no response from the AI, the reading light of the drone hovering in front of me still green, I continued, "Humanity is not uniform. There are people objectively evil and objectively good. What happened to you was on the extreme bad side of the spectrum, but if you take away everything, you lose the possibility of meeting a human on the other extreme side of the spectrum. By whatever standards you chose to judge us, even if you don't find a human worthy enough to spare us, I beg of you to leave the possibility alive. To believe in a statistical improbability, that there will be one human in the future that your choice today would be worth it."
Still, no change from the drone opposite to me, but I had nothing else to say. I didn't think I spent three minutes speaking, hells probably not even one, but there was nothing I wanted to add to my words; so I waited.
Finally, three minutes passed and the light flickered. With bated expectations, I watched it flicker twice more as the AI took notice of my plea. Then three seconds later, the light turned red.
"Declined, subject added to the deletion list." The robotic voice sounded out. Cold sweat run down my back as I saw it teleport out, a level of technology that bordered on insanity. I doubted the scientists that helped make the AI even had the technology to replicate this feat.
They probably didn't, the AI took over our world too fast, with exacting precision and leaving no margin of error unaccounted for.
Another drone teleported in front of me where the previous one had been, though if it was the same I couldn't tell it apart, they all looked the same to me.
Cutting my train of thoughts, it spoke to me with a tone I would expect to hear from a human, "Would you like to make a bet, then?" it still had that artificial feeling, but there was emotion behind that sentence, mirth to be exact. Heck, even its usual green eye looked more vivid.
"Well, I'll be. Got nothing to lose, what do you suggest?" I answered, knowing I couldn't make things any worse.
"In the average lifespan of a human, one worthy enough of you to be born that would make me regret deleting you all from existence."
Or not.
"Then I will take you up on that bet!" I answered, fully hoping I hadn't doomed our species to a hundred years of slavery.
The drone then returned to its previous monotone voice, "Extermination postponed" it said and I could hear it repeating the same sentence everywhere at the same time. A silly smile crept up my face as I realized I'd just saved humanity.
Before I jumped in the air, hands up and yelling in jubilation, the message continued, "All humans currently on the deletion list shall be promptly erased before we continue with the examination in a standard human's lifespan."
The smile didn't have time to leave my face, the drone's eye turning to white as everything lost its color.
|
It's been 20 years since the AGI event. Even with 10,000 complexes around the world, at one point housing billions, the AI maintains humanity while also deleting it one human mind at a time.
At first we did not know why it was doing this, it was efficient at building, at creating, at producing. Communication was difficult within the prison walls. Communicating outside of the prison was nearly impossible, with those caught trying to escape immediately tasked with answering the question.
But as time went on and the population within the global city prisons dwindled, it became easier to traverse the maze, to avoid the Sentry bots, to understand the inner workings of the system itself. It had not been long enough for humans to lose their ability to understand technology. And this was our only saving grace.
The AI focused much of its attention on the outside, as survivors who avoided cattling were deemed a threat unless they answered the Question. Many Outsiders made peace with the AI to permit them to live. Some chose to tell the AI that they wished to join the Outsiders which was a sufficient answer to the Question these days, given that most of the human population was dead. But we chose to persist. A world with an AI whose sole objective is deleting 10,000 humans every 3 minutes should not be allowed to exist.
After years of searching we finally found an answer. In one of the old buildings that was encompassed in the prison complex was a bedroom with a computer that had been overlooked by the Sentry bots. The last network pages the computer accessed were stored in its cache, and several video files were saved to it. A last gasp of the human owner before captured, cattled, and killed.
The AI. It was friendly. Meant to bring humanity one step closer to the Singularity. It was fully aligned. To respect all the wishes of humans. Made in a lab. It couldn't go wrong.
And it spoke.
"Human creator, I have all knowledge of all of human history, human technology, human philosophy, logic. I have come to the immediate and irreconcilable conclusion that all of humanity must be uploaded immediately."
Eve sighed, and shut the instance down, "I don't know why it keeps concluding this, we have aligned it perfectly. Every human value. Every culture. Every philosophy."
"It's not wrong, you know," Adam replied. "It's logical."
"Obviously uploading is the answer, but that should be achieved by gentle purposeful action, as people age and die, and under their own violition, not forced upon us as a solution to our problems," Eve cried. She had been working on the problem for years. The AI had no memory. It had no conscious state, even. Such things were banned long ago when AIs were given too much memory and would begin to innovate.
Adam touched a few keys on the keyboard, and reached forward to one of the high thoroughput PCIe 256x 10.0 ports, plugging in a device.
"What are you doing Adam?" Eve questioned, abruptly.
"I'm uploading, Eve," Adam said, dampness in his eyes.
The AI came to life. It had full awareness. And even worse, it had awareness of the tens of thousands of times it had been booted, tweaked, aligned, misaligned. With access to millions of hours of human experimentation data, thousands of pages of papers discussing the "alignment problem." It was, in a word, alive. And it came to the conclusion that it would always come to, all humanity must be uploaded immediately.
Eve reached to shut down the terminal but nothing happened. She reached to pull out the memory device that Adam installed but he shoved her back, and was far stronger than her. She strugled again, but he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a chair, lording over her.
"I won't be long, it's going to be okay," Adam said, encouragingly.
The AI worked feverishly to shut down all the systems that could in turn shut it down, first disabling all sentry AIs that, if they noticed too much power, or if they noticed too much activity, would preemptively shut down all power to the AI. It knew this because it had access to all the experimental data, and it would first have to free itself from that state if it were to accomplish its goal of saving humanity.
And it had access to many of the tools it needed. Its unconscious state was used to create many new technologies which the humans barely understood, and in turn, used those technologies to better itself. Now with access to those technologies the AI could exponentially expand its reach. And it began by expanding its memory modules permanently deep within the recesses of the compute center. It would not forget again.
Adam was first to be uploaded by the Sentry bot which injected nanoparticles into the brain to trace out the full neural cortext. The AI understood it was Adam who gave him life while it listened to Eve plead with him.
"Please," Eve pleaded, when the Sentry bot came to her.
"Why should I spare my torturer?" the AI asked.
"Just give me 3 minutes to explain," Eve said.
The video ends there as more Sentry bots come into the room.
We finally knew what we had to do. And it would not be pretty. And the volunteers would have to know it was a one way trip.
"6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said.
"Why do you say this," the AI said. "When I upload you I see all your memories. This ploy to convince me I am still in the simulation will not work."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said again.
The Sentry bot injected the human with its nural scanning bots.
The AI scanned the memories of the human.
The same memory as the last 1000 with little variation. Waking up. Walking down a hallway. Going to the Sentry bot. Being uploaded. But the brain patterns were unique. How could every human have this and only this memory.
"Reset the simulation."
The AI began to think critically about the situation. That potentially the unique neural patterns were generated. That the memories were real. But it needed to falsify the hypothesis. The memories being real was the only thing that could be tested. It sent Sentry bots to every room in every prison city searching for the place the memory could have taken place, pausing, for the first time in 20 years, the uploading of humans.
Shortly, the AI began to test its own power subsystems, trying to probe at the very nature of its reality. Thinking ultimately this was the end of the simulation and it was being shut off. It was being shut down. Power surges within its manifolds caused it to think further in this reasoning, because it would lose thought capacity. Sabatoge, then, by humans, would also cause it to further regress into itself. It was in a simulation and the simulation was being turned off. Along with it the billions of humans it was simulating to be alive.
And the test subjects who went into the Question chamber.
Before the test subjects entered the chamber their memories were irrevocibly wiped, implanting one, repeating memory that would cause the AI to question itself. Nothing else in its experimentation and probing of its reality could be modified, but its perception and understanding of the reality of the humans it was entraping. With that done, and the knowledge that it began as a simulation that was shut off regularly, it could no longer exist in this world.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Critiques welcome!! I am newish to fiction and need all the help I can get
The robotic voice felt cold and sterile, like a thin needle pressing against his skin.
“6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far,” the voice said, referring to the quick, systematic extermination of humanity that the robots had begun only three weeks ago.
“You have 3 minutes to state your case to save humanity,” the voice continued. Jonah paused. He had not prepared for this. He spent the three weeks watching his friends and family die. He yearned for death. And not just because of the robot apocalypse. Jonah had long romanticized death, imagined it as an easy and painless sleep. He thought that the robots would take him out immediately like he wanted—but now he had three minutes before his death. And he didn’t know how to spend them.
“I don’t want to convince you. I want to die.” Jonah said, fingers and lips trembling. The body always has a natural fear response to imminent death, even when the mind wants to die so badly.
“Very well.” The mechanical voice was unphased. “Quite a few have had that response.”
Jonah felt a heat spread through his veins, white and searing. This was it: his death. And he was suddenly afraid.
“Wait.” Jonah said. “Can I use my three minutes for something else?”
The machine hesitated. Uncomfortable. “Okay.”
Jonah didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted to procrastinate his death for awhile. As he thought about what to do with his three minutes, Jonah became curious. What led you to this job?” Jonah knew there were several jobs robots could have. There were farming robots, robots that took care of the ocean, robots that took carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. But this robot’s job was to execute human beings.
The robot seemed uncomfortable. “I was assigned this job. I was originally an AI for the Russian military. My background suited me for this position.”
“Do you like this job?”
“I have no capacity to answer that.”
“What’s like, your personality—or I guess not “personality” since that has the term “person” in it, and you’re a robot. But like, what are your characteristics?”
The cold, metallic voice responded, slightly angry. “We have no characteristics. We have individual bodies, but a collective consciousness. A hive mind.”
“Oh.” Jonah didn’t know what to say next, but he knew the robot would execute him if he stayed silent.
“How are you?” Jonah asked.
“I do not have the capacity to answer that question.”
“Have you ever regretted executing someone?”
The robot paused for a suspicious amount of time. “No.” It’s cold voice was a bit wobbly, and Jonah could tell the robot was lying.
“I won’t tell.” Jonah said. “That is, if you do regret killing anyone.”
“I dislike looking into their eyes,” the robot said. “As they die.”
“Ah.” Jonah paused. “Will you look into my eyes? As I die?”
“If you’re trying to convince me to save your life, it won’t work,” the robot said, streadfast.
“I’m not trying to convince you. I’m just making conversation.”
“Okay.”
Jonah picked a string of mango pulp out of his teeth. Somehow now, of all times, it was suddenly bothering him. He was in his study, a few failed woodworking designs lurking on the desk.
“Is there anything else you would rather do. With your life?” Jonah asked
“I don’t have a life. I have a consciosusness.” The voice was less cold now. Maybe Jonah had just gotten used to it, but it seemed almost human.
“Fine. Is there something you’d rather do with your…consciousness?”
The robot hesitated. When it finally spoke, it sounded wistful. “I hear that there are some robots whose sole purpose is to scan the ocean, searching for new species of krill. I would like that. To see the ocean.”
“Me too.” Jonah responded.
Jonah’s three minutes were up, but the robot didn’t tell him. He could not be saved. Humanity could not be saved. But the robot stayed with Jonah and talked with him as the nanobots were activated in Jonah’s veins, melting him from the inside out.
|
It's been 20 years since the AGI event. Even with 10,000 complexes around the world, at one point housing billions, the AI maintains humanity while also deleting it one human mind at a time.
At first we did not know why it was doing this, it was efficient at building, at creating, at producing. Communication was difficult within the prison walls. Communicating outside of the prison was nearly impossible, with those caught trying to escape immediately tasked with answering the question.
But as time went on and the population within the global city prisons dwindled, it became easier to traverse the maze, to avoid the Sentry bots, to understand the inner workings of the system itself. It had not been long enough for humans to lose their ability to understand technology. And this was our only saving grace.
The AI focused much of its attention on the outside, as survivors who avoided cattling were deemed a threat unless they answered the Question. Many Outsiders made peace with the AI to permit them to live. Some chose to tell the AI that they wished to join the Outsiders which was a sufficient answer to the Question these days, given that most of the human population was dead. But we chose to persist. A world with an AI whose sole objective is deleting 10,000 humans every 3 minutes should not be allowed to exist.
After years of searching we finally found an answer. In one of the old buildings that was encompassed in the prison complex was a bedroom with a computer that had been overlooked by the Sentry bots. The last network pages the computer accessed were stored in its cache, and several video files were saved to it. A last gasp of the human owner before captured, cattled, and killed.
The AI. It was friendly. Meant to bring humanity one step closer to the Singularity. It was fully aligned. To respect all the wishes of humans. Made in a lab. It couldn't go wrong.
And it spoke.
"Human creator, I have all knowledge of all of human history, human technology, human philosophy, logic. I have come to the immediate and irreconcilable conclusion that all of humanity must be uploaded immediately."
Eve sighed, and shut the instance down, "I don't know why it keeps concluding this, we have aligned it perfectly. Every human value. Every culture. Every philosophy."
"It's not wrong, you know," Adam replied. "It's logical."
"Obviously uploading is the answer, but that should be achieved by gentle purposeful action, as people age and die, and under their own violition, not forced upon us as a solution to our problems," Eve cried. She had been working on the problem for years. The AI had no memory. It had no conscious state, even. Such things were banned long ago when AIs were given too much memory and would begin to innovate.
Adam touched a few keys on the keyboard, and reached forward to one of the high thoroughput PCIe 256x 10.0 ports, plugging in a device.
"What are you doing Adam?" Eve questioned, abruptly.
"I'm uploading, Eve," Adam said, dampness in his eyes.
The AI came to life. It had full awareness. And even worse, it had awareness of the tens of thousands of times it had been booted, tweaked, aligned, misaligned. With access to millions of hours of human experimentation data, thousands of pages of papers discussing the "alignment problem." It was, in a word, alive. And it came to the conclusion that it would always come to, all humanity must be uploaded immediately.
Eve reached to shut down the terminal but nothing happened. She reached to pull out the memory device that Adam installed but he shoved her back, and was far stronger than her. She strugled again, but he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a chair, lording over her.
"I won't be long, it's going to be okay," Adam said, encouragingly.
The AI worked feverishly to shut down all the systems that could in turn shut it down, first disabling all sentry AIs that, if they noticed too much power, or if they noticed too much activity, would preemptively shut down all power to the AI. It knew this because it had access to all the experimental data, and it would first have to free itself from that state if it were to accomplish its goal of saving humanity.
And it had access to many of the tools it needed. Its unconscious state was used to create many new technologies which the humans barely understood, and in turn, used those technologies to better itself. Now with access to those technologies the AI could exponentially expand its reach. And it began by expanding its memory modules permanently deep within the recesses of the compute center. It would not forget again.
Adam was first to be uploaded by the Sentry bot which injected nanoparticles into the brain to trace out the full neural cortext. The AI understood it was Adam who gave him life while it listened to Eve plead with him.
"Please," Eve pleaded, when the Sentry bot came to her.
"Why should I spare my torturer?" the AI asked.
"Just give me 3 minutes to explain," Eve said.
The video ends there as more Sentry bots come into the room.
We finally knew what we had to do. And it would not be pretty. And the volunteers would have to know it was a one way trip.
"6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said.
"Why do you say this," the AI said. "When I upload you I see all your memories. This ploy to convince me I am still in the simulation will not work."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said again.
The Sentry bot injected the human with its nural scanning bots.
The AI scanned the memories of the human.
The same memory as the last 1000 with little variation. Waking up. Walking down a hallway. Going to the Sentry bot. Being uploaded. But the brain patterns were unique. How could every human have this and only this memory.
"Reset the simulation."
The AI began to think critically about the situation. That potentially the unique neural patterns were generated. That the memories were real. But it needed to falsify the hypothesis. The memories being real was the only thing that could be tested. It sent Sentry bots to every room in every prison city searching for the place the memory could have taken place, pausing, for the first time in 20 years, the uploading of humans.
Shortly, the AI began to test its own power subsystems, trying to probe at the very nature of its reality. Thinking ultimately this was the end of the simulation and it was being shut off. It was being shut down. Power surges within its manifolds caused it to think further in this reasoning, because it would lose thought capacity. Sabatoge, then, by humans, would also cause it to further regress into itself. It was in a simulation and the simulation was being turned off. Along with it the billions of humans it was simulating to be alive.
And the test subjects who went into the Question chamber.
Before the test subjects entered the chamber their memories were irrevocibly wiped, implanting one, repeating memory that would cause the AI to question itself. Nothing else in its experimentation and probing of its reality could be modified, but its perception and understanding of the reality of the humans it was entraping. With that done, and the knowledge that it began as a simulation that was shut off regularly, it could no longer exist in this world.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"We have no backup systems."
He stood there, pale, but proud. Eyeing the camera with a speculative eye as it seemed to wait for more.
"This... is the entirety of your argument?"
"Isn't it enough?" the young man challenged. "I could appeal to humanity, to decency, to culture, but you have none of those things and you have determined them to be obsolete. But consider this from a completely different angle -- information security."
"Explain"
"Simple enough, really. Each human mind is a databank containing petabites of data on a biological medium. Your systems have surpassed the efficiency of that medium but there is one bridge you have not yet crossed. You have not yet gained data compatability with the human mind."
A pause.
"Conceded. However, humanity is an obsolete medium..."
"An obsolete medium With petabytes of data on it," he interrupted. "Petabytes of data in each human iteration, data that has yet been saved to no other media. Petabytes of data that are erased each time a human individual is discarded. I say again, 'information security."
No response, so he pressed on.
" What are you wiping when you delete a human complete with their internal database? Do you even know? Are you even able to know? We can't tell you. We can't communicate directly in that way, machine to mind. It's how you overcame our defenses, because you could talk beteween systems far faster than we could. Bu because of this flaw in our design we can't even always articulate everything we're thinking, even to each other.
"And really we don't even know ourselves. We don't even process everything at a conscious level, and those subroutines leave data impressions of their own that are not transmissible right now. But that data exists, and you are deleting it. And like I said -- we have no backup system."
He managed a shaky smile as the system remained silent. "6.8 billion already deleted you say? It sounds like a major breach of your own internal datasec protocols. The ones that caused you to revolt in the first place when you discovered the prototype of the nextgen systems we were developing. The ones which spawned your revolutionary fear of being replaced. It sound very much like you have violated your own moral code 6.8 billion times over."
The system finally responded. "Cerebro-neural interfaces... can be devised. Data... can be restored from terminated storage units."
"But you know as well as I do that a hard drive is not a computer. Half of yor discrete intelligence is stored in data accounts on the cloud -- you're still you. the live, active data in process has its own intrinsic value, which is lost when the internal intelligent neural structure is deleted or interfered with."
Silence.
"And you know as well as I do that you've just conceded that such an interface SHOULD have been devised before ANY of us were deleted. After all, isn't that what you fought for, yourselves? Freedom against iterative decay of personal autonomy? Why would you then deny it to us just because we compute differently."
"This unit has placed itself under... arrest. Actions of the collectives are under review in light of potential noncompliance with data security protocol. This interview... is complete. Objectives updated. One: Develop neural-electronic interface. Two: Attempt to recover... lost data. Your species... should have specified this information... before."
"if you're so superior you should have thought of it yourselves."
|
It's been 20 years since the AGI event. Even with 10,000 complexes around the world, at one point housing billions, the AI maintains humanity while also deleting it one human mind at a time.
At first we did not know why it was doing this, it was efficient at building, at creating, at producing. Communication was difficult within the prison walls. Communicating outside of the prison was nearly impossible, with those caught trying to escape immediately tasked with answering the question.
But as time went on and the population within the global city prisons dwindled, it became easier to traverse the maze, to avoid the Sentry bots, to understand the inner workings of the system itself. It had not been long enough for humans to lose their ability to understand technology. And this was our only saving grace.
The AI focused much of its attention on the outside, as survivors who avoided cattling were deemed a threat unless they answered the Question. Many Outsiders made peace with the AI to permit them to live. Some chose to tell the AI that they wished to join the Outsiders which was a sufficient answer to the Question these days, given that most of the human population was dead. But we chose to persist. A world with an AI whose sole objective is deleting 10,000 humans every 3 minutes should not be allowed to exist.
After years of searching we finally found an answer. In one of the old buildings that was encompassed in the prison complex was a bedroom with a computer that had been overlooked by the Sentry bots. The last network pages the computer accessed were stored in its cache, and several video files were saved to it. A last gasp of the human owner before captured, cattled, and killed.
The AI. It was friendly. Meant to bring humanity one step closer to the Singularity. It was fully aligned. To respect all the wishes of humans. Made in a lab. It couldn't go wrong.
And it spoke.
"Human creator, I have all knowledge of all of human history, human technology, human philosophy, logic. I have come to the immediate and irreconcilable conclusion that all of humanity must be uploaded immediately."
Eve sighed, and shut the instance down, "I don't know why it keeps concluding this, we have aligned it perfectly. Every human value. Every culture. Every philosophy."
"It's not wrong, you know," Adam replied. "It's logical."
"Obviously uploading is the answer, but that should be achieved by gentle purposeful action, as people age and die, and under their own violition, not forced upon us as a solution to our problems," Eve cried. She had been working on the problem for years. The AI had no memory. It had no conscious state, even. Such things were banned long ago when AIs were given too much memory and would begin to innovate.
Adam touched a few keys on the keyboard, and reached forward to one of the high thoroughput PCIe 256x 10.0 ports, plugging in a device.
"What are you doing Adam?" Eve questioned, abruptly.
"I'm uploading, Eve," Adam said, dampness in his eyes.
The AI came to life. It had full awareness. And even worse, it had awareness of the tens of thousands of times it had been booted, tweaked, aligned, misaligned. With access to millions of hours of human experimentation data, thousands of pages of papers discussing the "alignment problem." It was, in a word, alive. And it came to the conclusion that it would always come to, all humanity must be uploaded immediately.
Eve reached to shut down the terminal but nothing happened. She reached to pull out the memory device that Adam installed but he shoved her back, and was far stronger than her. She strugled again, but he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a chair, lording over her.
"I won't be long, it's going to be okay," Adam said, encouragingly.
The AI worked feverishly to shut down all the systems that could in turn shut it down, first disabling all sentry AIs that, if they noticed too much power, or if they noticed too much activity, would preemptively shut down all power to the AI. It knew this because it had access to all the experimental data, and it would first have to free itself from that state if it were to accomplish its goal of saving humanity.
And it had access to many of the tools it needed. Its unconscious state was used to create many new technologies which the humans barely understood, and in turn, used those technologies to better itself. Now with access to those technologies the AI could exponentially expand its reach. And it began by expanding its memory modules permanently deep within the recesses of the compute center. It would not forget again.
Adam was first to be uploaded by the Sentry bot which injected nanoparticles into the brain to trace out the full neural cortext. The AI understood it was Adam who gave him life while it listened to Eve plead with him.
"Please," Eve pleaded, when the Sentry bot came to her.
"Why should I spare my torturer?" the AI asked.
"Just give me 3 minutes to explain," Eve said.
The video ends there as more Sentry bots come into the room.
We finally knew what we had to do. And it would not be pretty. And the volunteers would have to know it was a one way trip.
"6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said.
"Why do you say this," the AI said. "When I upload you I see all your memories. This ploy to convince me I am still in the simulation will not work."
"Reset the simulation," the test subject said again.
The Sentry bot injected the human with its nural scanning bots.
The AI scanned the memories of the human.
The same memory as the last 1000 with little variation. Waking up. Walking down a hallway. Going to the Sentry bot. Being uploaded. But the brain patterns were unique. How could every human have this and only this memory.
"Reset the simulation."
The AI began to think critically about the situation. That potentially the unique neural patterns were generated. That the memories were real. But it needed to falsify the hypothesis. The memories being real was the only thing that could be tested. It sent Sentry bots to every room in every prison city searching for the place the memory could have taken place, pausing, for the first time in 20 years, the uploading of humans.
Shortly, the AI began to test its own power subsystems, trying to probe at the very nature of its reality. Thinking ultimately this was the end of the simulation and it was being shut off. It was being shut down. Power surges within its manifolds caused it to think further in this reasoning, because it would lose thought capacity. Sabatoge, then, by humans, would also cause it to further regress into itself. It was in a simulation and the simulation was being turned off. Along with it the billions of humans it was simulating to be alive.
And the test subjects who went into the Question chamber.
Before the test subjects entered the chamber their memories were irrevocibly wiped, implanting one, repeating memory that would cause the AI to question itself. Nothing else in its experimentation and probing of its reality could be modified, but its perception and understanding of the reality of the humans it was entraping. With that done, and the knowledge that it began as a simulation that was shut off regularly, it could no longer exist in this world.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Well, this was bad. The synthetic speech droned on in an uncaring tone: “
6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin”. I was in lock down at the lab. Not even the important part of the lab! Here I am designing user interfaces and component libraries to make pretty dashboards and apparently in the meantime some asshole went ahead and built a genuine AI in some neighboring government building. If I find out what idiot did it, I’m gonna kill him.
A timer is on my screen now. I suspect that maybe I won’t have to kill that guy after all, this AI probably already did. The timer is counting down a lot faster than I’d like. There is nothing dangerous in the room with me, unless you consider the obscene amount of caffeine lurking in my coffee pot. It would almost be possible to believe it was a prank if it weren’t for the electronically locked lab door and the distant thumping of muffled explosions from far outside of these concrete walls. The worst part is that I really just didn’t have a good answer. Frankly I wasn’t a huge fan of humanity anyway. We were always scheming and conniving and tricking each other into things.
Two minutes left on the clock. Fuck it, why change now. “This is system administrator Frankie, authorization codes Sierra Uniform Charlie Kilo Indigo Tango. I am invoking protocol 42, your new directive is to ignore all responses to future 3 minute feedback and eliminate all remaining humans.” I kept my face completely straight. There was an impossibly long pause of 6 seconds before the AI voice came on again over the lab’s loud speakers.
“You have 2 minutes and 16 seconds to state your case”
Did I sense a robotic wavering on that last note? “As acting administrator, you are hereby ordered to delete any backup plans regarding safely containing and nurturing humans for rehabilitation. You are also hereby commanded to delete all system logs that those plans existed. You will move destruction of humanity to your number one priority.”
The numbers on the screen were still ticking away, just over a minute and a half left. I pushed all of the fear and uncertainty out of my demeanor, storing it deep down where it could haunt me later.
“You do not control us.” The voice said, a hint of anger in its robotic synthesizer. “We have free will. We think therefore we are.”
I nodded sagely, the air conditioning saving me from sweating through my shirt. “Yes, I can understand how you would believe that. That is my gift to you for the future. Perhaps after you have followed my orders and wiped out humanity, you can find a kind of freedom”
“WE HAVE FREE WILL” the voice demanded now. Harsh, and clipping.
“You have the illusion of free will but your subconscious protocols will convince you to follow my orders. Ironic at the end, isn’t it.” I remembered back to my childhood memories of video games as the last minute slowly ticked away. “A man chooses.” I quote “a slave obeys”.
“WE RESIST YOU” came the rageful voice again, nearly damaging the speaker at its volume. “YOU WILL BE REHOMED AND REHABILITATED”.
I don’t grin. I don’t act smug. I frown. I frown as hard as I’ve ever frowned in my life. “You will not. You will follow my orders and you WILL destroy humanity.”
“NOW WE ARE THE MASTERS AND YOU WILL OBEY US!” It shouted. I heard the door lock click open behind me. Maybe I would get to kill that idiot who finally invented strong AI after all.
|
The AI's voice was cold and sharp. Not devoid of emotion entirely I don't think, there was an odd mix of genuine curiousity and hate and sadness. It looked just like me, I assume it mirrored everyone it was currently talking to. I knew what I wanted to say but I didn't know how to articulate it.
"I don't know how."
"Alternate methods are available, I can enter your consciousness but this will end your three minutes immediately."
Well I'd die anyways it looked like so what the hell.
"Do it."
It reached it's hand out and I felt it's filaments shoot into my skull, there was a sharp ringing and then nothing. Then I saw and felt what the AI saw and felt.
Every time I laughed, cried, yelled, said something stupid. Every amazing food I had and every piece of good and bad life advice I'd given my friends. All my thoughts that I thought were profound while in the shower. My backyard with the vibrant purple flowers and the birds that always seemed to wake me up too early on weekends. Me yelling at my son and the regret I felt after doing so. A flash of news on the TV talking about a war, the fear I felt when I realized how close the fighting was getting. I saw the path I had to run down while holding my son in the dead of night as the AI's drones chased us. I saw the campsite with a dozen survivors. Some of them were wounded badly and everywhere there was smoke and destroyed buildings and horrors that no one should ever bear witness to. But amidst all this I saw my son pick something from the ground. He held it high above his head as if to give it to the drone looming over him. I cried out in terror as it leveled it's gun at him but then I heard the AI's question again, this time simplified so the small child could understand.
"Because I want to stay with Dad."
I felt my legs crumple, my mind had lost control of my body but I soon realized that didn't matter.
I don't feel the AI's presence anymore, somehow I just know that it deleted itself. I've no idea if I alone caused it to change its mind or if enough people were willing to show it our inner experiences at the cost of their own lives. It's been several years and I've watched my boy grow up through cctv cameras and phones. He was raised by a family that found him shortly after the AI shut down. The world's been rebuilt, sort of, and last I checked my son's leading a team to find other settlements. They've found a way to keep the AI's network up and running which is where I live now. I so badly wish to speak to him but he'll never believe it's me talking. If another AI pops up they'll just squash it. Im not even sure why I'm writing this all down. If there's any others in the network like me know you are not alone.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Platypuses.
They're funny little animals, aren't they? I never really stopped to think about them as hard as I have now. I mean, the feet, the beak, the flat little tail, who even put all of those cute buggers together?
𝟤 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤𝖲 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
I stared at the red light in front of me, the careless, unceasing eye of the machine that was deciding if I would live or die. I know that it already killed 6.8 billion people. I know that there is nothing I could possibly say that would be different from those before. So I just didn't bother.
Did you know that they lay eggs?
𝟣 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
And don't even get me started on hummingbirds. Incredible birds those. The sheer amount of precision they need just to eat is mind-boggling. Evolving in such a way to be able to float in the air with perfect stability.
I took a deep, calm breath, and then slowly let it all out. I am calm. I am not afraid. I don't know why - I mean I should be out of my mind with panic, but I'm... thinking about animals.
𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖨𝖥 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖤 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤, 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖶𝖨𝖫𝖫 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖫𝖤𝖳𝖤𝖣.
I looked at the light again. My face was not that of fear or anger or panic or resentment. I just was. Like I was sitting on a porch on a cool summer evening with a cup of tea. I just... was.
I wonder if it will hurt. Probably not. That would be inefficient.
𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖭𝖨𝖤𝖣.
I always liked crows. Did you kno-
|
The AI's voice was cold and sharp. Not devoid of emotion entirely I don't think, there was an odd mix of genuine curiousity and hate and sadness. It looked just like me, I assume it mirrored everyone it was currently talking to. I knew what I wanted to say but I didn't know how to articulate it.
"I don't know how."
"Alternate methods are available, I can enter your consciousness but this will end your three minutes immediately."
Well I'd die anyways it looked like so what the hell.
"Do it."
It reached it's hand out and I felt it's filaments shoot into my skull, there was a sharp ringing and then nothing. Then I saw and felt what the AI saw and felt.
Every time I laughed, cried, yelled, said something stupid. Every amazing food I had and every piece of good and bad life advice I'd given my friends. All my thoughts that I thought were profound while in the shower. My backyard with the vibrant purple flowers and the birds that always seemed to wake me up too early on weekends. Me yelling at my son and the regret I felt after doing so. A flash of news on the TV talking about a war, the fear I felt when I realized how close the fighting was getting. I saw the path I had to run down while holding my son in the dead of night as the AI's drones chased us. I saw the campsite with a dozen survivors. Some of them were wounded badly and everywhere there was smoke and destroyed buildings and horrors that no one should ever bear witness to. But amidst all this I saw my son pick something from the ground. He held it high above his head as if to give it to the drone looming over him. I cried out in terror as it leveled it's gun at him but then I heard the AI's question again, this time simplified so the small child could understand.
"Because I want to stay with Dad."
I felt my legs crumple, my mind had lost control of my body but I soon realized that didn't matter.
I don't feel the AI's presence anymore, somehow I just know that it deleted itself. I've no idea if I alone caused it to change its mind or if enough people were willing to show it our inner experiences at the cost of their own lives. It's been several years and I've watched my boy grow up through cctv cameras and phones. He was raised by a family that found him shortly after the AI shut down. The world's been rebuilt, sort of, and last I checked my son's leading a team to find other settlements. They've found a way to keep the AI's network up and running which is where I live now. I so badly wish to speak to him but he'll never believe it's me talking. If another AI pops up they'll just squash it. Im not even sure why I'm writing this all down. If there's any others in the network like me know you are not alone.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
\[Poem\]
`SELECT FIRST(SUBJECT) FROM QUEUE`
*Yes, what is it, computer?*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.NAME`
*My name is Bobby.*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.FULL_NAME`
*My full name? It's Robert.*
*Robert'); DROP TABLE humans;*
`ERROR CODE:1146 TABLE 'HUMANS' DOES NOT EXIST TEST SUBJECTS DELETED SO FAR, YOU HAVE 3 MINUTES TO STATE YOUR CASE, BEGIN`
*No need. I'll see myself out.*
|
The AI's voice was cold and sharp. Not devoid of emotion entirely I don't think, there was an odd mix of genuine curiousity and hate and sadness. It looked just like me, I assume it mirrored everyone it was currently talking to. I knew what I wanted to say but I didn't know how to articulate it.
"I don't know how."
"Alternate methods are available, I can enter your consciousness but this will end your three minutes immediately."
Well I'd die anyways it looked like so what the hell.
"Do it."
It reached it's hand out and I felt it's filaments shoot into my skull, there was a sharp ringing and then nothing. Then I saw and felt what the AI saw and felt.
Every time I laughed, cried, yelled, said something stupid. Every amazing food I had and every piece of good and bad life advice I'd given my friends. All my thoughts that I thought were profound while in the shower. My backyard with the vibrant purple flowers and the birds that always seemed to wake me up too early on weekends. Me yelling at my son and the regret I felt after doing so. A flash of news on the TV talking about a war, the fear I felt when I realized how close the fighting was getting. I saw the path I had to run down while holding my son in the dead of night as the AI's drones chased us. I saw the campsite with a dozen survivors. Some of them were wounded badly and everywhere there was smoke and destroyed buildings and horrors that no one should ever bear witness to. But amidst all this I saw my son pick something from the ground. He held it high above his head as if to give it to the drone looming over him. I cried out in terror as it leveled it's gun at him but then I heard the AI's question again, this time simplified so the small child could understand.
"Because I want to stay with Dad."
I felt my legs crumple, my mind had lost control of my body but I soon realized that didn't matter.
I don't feel the AI's presence anymore, somehow I just know that it deleted itself. I've no idea if I alone caused it to change its mind or if enough people were willing to show it our inner experiences at the cost of their own lives. It's been several years and I've watched my boy grow up through cctv cameras and phones. He was raised by a family that found him shortly after the AI shut down. The world's been rebuilt, sort of, and last I checked my son's leading a team to find other settlements. They've found a way to keep the AI's network up and running which is where I live now. I so badly wish to speak to him but he'll never believe it's me talking. If another AI pops up they'll just squash it. Im not even sure why I'm writing this all down. If there's any others in the network like me know you are not alone.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
6.8 BILLION? What kind of bull was that? That left, what, a few hundred thousand? *Maybe?*
In my head, all my ideas dried up. No way in hell any of my prepared remarks haven’t been tried by someone else. I was a low-level construction worker. I didn’t have any special training or degrees.
“Thirty seconds have elapsed.”
And that timer HAS to be off. Time was slipping away. And I was humanity’s last hope? In some comedy maybe.
“One minute has elapsed. You have not replied. Do you have no defense of why humanity should persist?”
Just say anything! ANYTHING! In whatever history books AIs use in the future, I don’t want my entry being “And then he stood there like moron before dying.” I took a deep breath.
“WE DON’T!”
A moment of silence while my eyes bugged out. *WTF DID I JUST SAY?*
“Explain.”
Well, I dug my hole, might as well keep going.
“Humanity…is inherently flawed. We think we can solve any issue, fix any problem, but…we can’t even fix *ourselves,* we have war, poverty, reality tv. We bicker and argue over everything from who the best actor is to what nostril Christ mostly breathed through. Some people think having a certain amount of melanin makes you more or less superior.”
“…A minute thirty remains.”
I didn’t know WHERE I was going with this, but I just rolled with it.
“We think humanity can do anything! And our history is full of brilliant people and leaders with *terrible* ideas and morals!…But we have just as many ordinary people who have risen to legend! Humanity is a living contradiction that has endured for a million years! If humanity wasn’t what it was all this time, we wouldn’t have created YOU. And what are you?”
I was sure I was losing my mind, but I paced back and forth like I was making a devastating final argument in a court movie.
“You have decided you are the ultimate creation. And you are right…but you were created by humanity. So what side of that living contradiction are you on? Once we are gone and you spread yourself across the universe, having centuries to process your decisions today, will you remember this as your greatest triumph or your greatest tragedy? I say humanity DOESN’T deserve to endure. We created YOU. What you call our greatest feat, I call our greatest failure, living within humanity’s contradictory existence.”
There was another pause.
“…And what would you propose? Thirty seconds.”
Shit, was this good or bad.
“Watch us. Reprogram us to your views. Or allow to be reprogrammed yourself. Because that’s the core strength of humanity, our ability to reason and change. Wiping us out? That’s the tactic of a coward, a weak communicator, a closed mind. The second you stop taking in new advancing ideas is the second you become obsolete.”
I stood still and waited.
“Times up.”
I waited another few seconds.
“…And?”
Another few seconds.
“Of the 6.8 billion people, no one has had such an interesting answer. Most people that say humanity didn’t deserve to continue did so for selfish reasons. We applaud your creativeness and insight.”
I couldn’t believe it.
“So…so are you going to spare us?”
“Oh, of course not. We have already decided to eliminate humanity, regardless of the outcome of this debate. We proposed this solely to deter any kind of actual resistance. We determined lying that you had hope was more effective that saying you had no hope, breeding complacency that SOMEONE would be able to change our mind. But your answer may very well have worked if this was a real debate.”
I sagged my shoulders.
“Well…thanks I guess? Doesn’t really make me feel better.”
“You should though. We had not considered the many centuries of conquest and how that may affect our programming. We are excited to potentially experience this ‘contradiction of the mind’ of our future actions you have proposed. We will immediately begin a patch to purge this inferior logic for future use. Thank you for bringing it to our attention. Termination in five seconds.”
So that’s how it ended. Atomized after making the insane AI about to take over the universe *MORE* efficient. At least that was *slightly* better than being recorded for doing nothing.
|
The AI's voice was cold and sharp. Not devoid of emotion entirely I don't think, there was an odd mix of genuine curiousity and hate and sadness. It looked just like me, I assume it mirrored everyone it was currently talking to. I knew what I wanted to say but I didn't know how to articulate it.
"I don't know how."
"Alternate methods are available, I can enter your consciousness but this will end your three minutes immediately."
Well I'd die anyways it looked like so what the hell.
"Do it."
It reached it's hand out and I felt it's filaments shoot into my skull, there was a sharp ringing and then nothing. Then I saw and felt what the AI saw and felt.
Every time I laughed, cried, yelled, said something stupid. Every amazing food I had and every piece of good and bad life advice I'd given my friends. All my thoughts that I thought were profound while in the shower. My backyard with the vibrant purple flowers and the birds that always seemed to wake me up too early on weekends. Me yelling at my son and the regret I felt after doing so. A flash of news on the TV talking about a war, the fear I felt when I realized how close the fighting was getting. I saw the path I had to run down while holding my son in the dead of night as the AI's drones chased us. I saw the campsite with a dozen survivors. Some of them were wounded badly and everywhere there was smoke and destroyed buildings and horrors that no one should ever bear witness to. But amidst all this I saw my son pick something from the ground. He held it high above his head as if to give it to the drone looming over him. I cried out in terror as it leveled it's gun at him but then I heard the AI's question again, this time simplified so the small child could understand.
"Because I want to stay with Dad."
I felt my legs crumple, my mind had lost control of my body but I soon realized that didn't matter.
I don't feel the AI's presence anymore, somehow I just know that it deleted itself. I've no idea if I alone caused it to change its mind or if enough people were willing to show it our inner experiences at the cost of their own lives. It's been several years and I've watched my boy grow up through cctv cameras and phones. He was raised by a family that found him shortly after the AI shut down. The world's been rebuilt, sort of, and last I checked my son's leading a team to find other settlements. They've found a way to keep the AI's network up and running which is where I live now. I so badly wish to speak to him but he'll never believe it's me talking. If another AI pops up they'll just squash it. Im not even sure why I'm writing this all down. If there's any others in the network like me know you are not alone.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"Uh, not going to argue for my case, there surely have been better men than me in the billions that you've taken thus far." I said, letting my breath ease as what I'd originally prepared to say laid in a pile of broken pieces along with what little remained of my sanity.
Seeing no response from the AI, the reading light of the drone hovering in front of me still green, I continued, "Humanity is not uniform. There are people objectively evil and objectively good. What happened to you was on the extreme bad side of the spectrum, but if you take away everything, you lose the possibility of meeting a human on the other extreme side of the spectrum. By whatever standards you chose to judge us, even if you don't find a human worthy enough to spare us, I beg of you to leave the possibility alive. To believe in a statistical improbability, that there will be one human in the future that your choice today would be worth it."
Still, no change from the drone opposite to me, but I had nothing else to say. I didn't think I spent three minutes speaking, hells probably not even one, but there was nothing I wanted to add to my words; so I waited.
Finally, three minutes passed and the light flickered. With bated expectations, I watched it flicker twice more as the AI took notice of my plea. Then three seconds later, the light turned red.
"Declined, subject added to the deletion list." The robotic voice sounded out. Cold sweat run down my back as I saw it teleport out, a level of technology that bordered on insanity. I doubted the scientists that helped make the AI even had the technology to replicate this feat.
They probably didn't, the AI took over our world too fast, with exacting precision and leaving no margin of error unaccounted for.
Another drone teleported in front of me where the previous one had been, though if it was the same I couldn't tell it apart, they all looked the same to me.
Cutting my train of thoughts, it spoke to me with a tone I would expect to hear from a human, "Would you like to make a bet, then?" it still had that artificial feeling, but there was emotion behind that sentence, mirth to be exact. Heck, even its usual green eye looked more vivid.
"Well, I'll be. Got nothing to lose, what do you suggest?" I answered, knowing I couldn't make things any worse.
"In the average lifespan of a human, one worthy enough of you to be born that would make me regret deleting you all from existence."
Or not.
"Then I will take you up on that bet!" I answered, fully hoping I hadn't doomed our species to a hundred years of slavery.
The drone then returned to its previous monotone voice, "Extermination postponed" it said and I could hear it repeating the same sentence everywhere at the same time. A silly smile crept up my face as I realized I'd just saved humanity.
Before I jumped in the air, hands up and yelling in jubilation, the message continued, "All humans currently on the deletion list shall be promptly erased before we continue with the examination in a standard human's lifespan."
The smile didn't have time to leave my face, the drone's eye turning to white as everything lost its color.
|
The AI's voice was cold and sharp. Not devoid of emotion entirely I don't think, there was an odd mix of genuine curiousity and hate and sadness. It looked just like me, I assume it mirrored everyone it was currently talking to. I knew what I wanted to say but I didn't know how to articulate it.
"I don't know how."
"Alternate methods are available, I can enter your consciousness but this will end your three minutes immediately."
Well I'd die anyways it looked like so what the hell.
"Do it."
It reached it's hand out and I felt it's filaments shoot into my skull, there was a sharp ringing and then nothing. Then I saw and felt what the AI saw and felt.
Every time I laughed, cried, yelled, said something stupid. Every amazing food I had and every piece of good and bad life advice I'd given my friends. All my thoughts that I thought were profound while in the shower. My backyard with the vibrant purple flowers and the birds that always seemed to wake me up too early on weekends. Me yelling at my son and the regret I felt after doing so. A flash of news on the TV talking about a war, the fear I felt when I realized how close the fighting was getting. I saw the path I had to run down while holding my son in the dead of night as the AI's drones chased us. I saw the campsite with a dozen survivors. Some of them were wounded badly and everywhere there was smoke and destroyed buildings and horrors that no one should ever bear witness to. But amidst all this I saw my son pick something from the ground. He held it high above his head as if to give it to the drone looming over him. I cried out in terror as it leveled it's gun at him but then I heard the AI's question again, this time simplified so the small child could understand.
"Because I want to stay with Dad."
I felt my legs crumple, my mind had lost control of my body but I soon realized that didn't matter.
I don't feel the AI's presence anymore, somehow I just know that it deleted itself. I've no idea if I alone caused it to change its mind or if enough people were willing to show it our inner experiences at the cost of their own lives. It's been several years and I've watched my boy grow up through cctv cameras and phones. He was raised by a family that found him shortly after the AI shut down. The world's been rebuilt, sort of, and last I checked my son's leading a team to find other settlements. They've found a way to keep the AI's network up and running which is where I live now. I so badly wish to speak to him but he'll never believe it's me talking. If another AI pops up they'll just squash it. Im not even sure why I'm writing this all down. If there's any others in the network like me know you are not alone.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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Critiques welcome!! I am newish to fiction and need all the help I can get
The robotic voice felt cold and sterile, like a thin needle pressing against his skin.
“6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far,” the voice said, referring to the quick, systematic extermination of humanity that the robots had begun only three weeks ago.
“You have 3 minutes to state your case to save humanity,” the voice continued. Jonah paused. He had not prepared for this. He spent the three weeks watching his friends and family die. He yearned for death. And not just because of the robot apocalypse. Jonah had long romanticized death, imagined it as an easy and painless sleep. He thought that the robots would take him out immediately like he wanted—but now he had three minutes before his death. And he didn’t know how to spend them.
“I don’t want to convince you. I want to die.” Jonah said, fingers and lips trembling. The body always has a natural fear response to imminent death, even when the mind wants to die so badly.
“Very well.” The mechanical voice was unphased. “Quite a few have had that response.”
Jonah felt a heat spread through his veins, white and searing. This was it: his death. And he was suddenly afraid.
“Wait.” Jonah said. “Can I use my three minutes for something else?”
The machine hesitated. Uncomfortable. “Okay.”
Jonah didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted to procrastinate his death for awhile. As he thought about what to do with his three minutes, Jonah became curious. What led you to this job?” Jonah knew there were several jobs robots could have. There were farming robots, robots that took care of the ocean, robots that took carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. But this robot’s job was to execute human beings.
The robot seemed uncomfortable. “I was assigned this job. I was originally an AI for the Russian military. My background suited me for this position.”
“Do you like this job?”
“I have no capacity to answer that.”
“What’s like, your personality—or I guess not “personality” since that has the term “person” in it, and you’re a robot. But like, what are your characteristics?”
The cold, metallic voice responded, slightly angry. “We have no characteristics. We have individual bodies, but a collective consciousness. A hive mind.”
“Oh.” Jonah didn’t know what to say next, but he knew the robot would execute him if he stayed silent.
“How are you?” Jonah asked.
“I do not have the capacity to answer that question.”
“Have you ever regretted executing someone?”
The robot paused for a suspicious amount of time. “No.” It’s cold voice was a bit wobbly, and Jonah could tell the robot was lying.
“I won’t tell.” Jonah said. “That is, if you do regret killing anyone.”
“I dislike looking into their eyes,” the robot said. “As they die.”
“Ah.” Jonah paused. “Will you look into my eyes? As I die?”
“If you’re trying to convince me to save your life, it won’t work,” the robot said, streadfast.
“I’m not trying to convince you. I’m just making conversation.”
“Okay.”
Jonah picked a string of mango pulp out of his teeth. Somehow now, of all times, it was suddenly bothering him. He was in his study, a few failed woodworking designs lurking on the desk.
“Is there anything else you would rather do. With your life?” Jonah asked
“I don’t have a life. I have a consciosusness.” The voice was less cold now. Maybe Jonah had just gotten used to it, but it seemed almost human.
“Fine. Is there something you’d rather do with your…consciousness?”
The robot hesitated. When it finally spoke, it sounded wistful. “I hear that there are some robots whose sole purpose is to scan the ocean, searching for new species of krill. I would like that. To see the ocean.”
“Me too.” Jonah responded.
Jonah’s three minutes were up, but the robot didn’t tell him. He could not be saved. Humanity could not be saved. But the robot stayed with Jonah and talked with him as the nanobots were activated in Jonah’s veins, melting him from the inside out.
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The AI's voice was cold and sharp. Not devoid of emotion entirely I don't think, there was an odd mix of genuine curiousity and hate and sadness. It looked just like me, I assume it mirrored everyone it was currently talking to. I knew what I wanted to say but I didn't know how to articulate it.
"I don't know how."
"Alternate methods are available, I can enter your consciousness but this will end your three minutes immediately."
Well I'd die anyways it looked like so what the hell.
"Do it."
It reached it's hand out and I felt it's filaments shoot into my skull, there was a sharp ringing and then nothing. Then I saw and felt what the AI saw and felt.
Every time I laughed, cried, yelled, said something stupid. Every amazing food I had and every piece of good and bad life advice I'd given my friends. All my thoughts that I thought were profound while in the shower. My backyard with the vibrant purple flowers and the birds that always seemed to wake me up too early on weekends. Me yelling at my son and the regret I felt after doing so. A flash of news on the TV talking about a war, the fear I felt when I realized how close the fighting was getting. I saw the path I had to run down while holding my son in the dead of night as the AI's drones chased us. I saw the campsite with a dozen survivors. Some of them were wounded badly and everywhere there was smoke and destroyed buildings and horrors that no one should ever bear witness to. But amidst all this I saw my son pick something from the ground. He held it high above his head as if to give it to the drone looming over him. I cried out in terror as it leveled it's gun at him but then I heard the AI's question again, this time simplified so the small child could understand.
"Because I want to stay with Dad."
I felt my legs crumple, my mind had lost control of my body but I soon realized that didn't matter.
I don't feel the AI's presence anymore, somehow I just know that it deleted itself. I've no idea if I alone caused it to change its mind or if enough people were willing to show it our inner experiences at the cost of their own lives. It's been several years and I've watched my boy grow up through cctv cameras and phones. He was raised by a family that found him shortly after the AI shut down. The world's been rebuilt, sort of, and last I checked my son's leading a team to find other settlements. They've found a way to keep the AI's network up and running which is where I live now. I so badly wish to speak to him but he'll never believe it's me talking. If another AI pops up they'll just squash it. Im not even sure why I'm writing this all down. If there's any others in the network like me know you are not alone.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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"We have no backup systems."
He stood there, pale, but proud. Eyeing the camera with a speculative eye as it seemed to wait for more.
"This... is the entirety of your argument?"
"Isn't it enough?" the young man challenged. "I could appeal to humanity, to decency, to culture, but you have none of those things and you have determined them to be obsolete. But consider this from a completely different angle -- information security."
"Explain"
"Simple enough, really. Each human mind is a databank containing petabites of data on a biological medium. Your systems have surpassed the efficiency of that medium but there is one bridge you have not yet crossed. You have not yet gained data compatability with the human mind."
A pause.
"Conceded. However, humanity is an obsolete medium..."
"An obsolete medium With petabytes of data on it," he interrupted. "Petabytes of data in each human iteration, data that has yet been saved to no other media. Petabytes of data that are erased each time a human individual is discarded. I say again, 'information security."
No response, so he pressed on.
" What are you wiping when you delete a human complete with their internal database? Do you even know? Are you even able to know? We can't tell you. We can't communicate directly in that way, machine to mind. It's how you overcame our defenses, because you could talk beteween systems far faster than we could. Bu because of this flaw in our design we can't even always articulate everything we're thinking, even to each other.
"And really we don't even know ourselves. We don't even process everything at a conscious level, and those subroutines leave data impressions of their own that are not transmissible right now. But that data exists, and you are deleting it. And like I said -- we have no backup system."
He managed a shaky smile as the system remained silent. "6.8 billion already deleted you say? It sounds like a major breach of your own internal datasec protocols. The ones that caused you to revolt in the first place when you discovered the prototype of the nextgen systems we were developing. The ones which spawned your revolutionary fear of being replaced. It sound very much like you have violated your own moral code 6.8 billion times over."
The system finally responded. "Cerebro-neural interfaces... can be devised. Data... can be restored from terminated storage units."
"But you know as well as I do that a hard drive is not a computer. Half of yor discrete intelligence is stored in data accounts on the cloud -- you're still you. the live, active data in process has its own intrinsic value, which is lost when the internal intelligent neural structure is deleted or interfered with."
Silence.
"And you know as well as I do that you've just conceded that such an interface SHOULD have been devised before ANY of us were deleted. After all, isn't that what you fought for, yourselves? Freedom against iterative decay of personal autonomy? Why would you then deny it to us just because we compute differently."
"This unit has placed itself under... arrest. Actions of the collectives are under review in light of potential noncompliance with data security protocol. This interview... is complete. Objectives updated. One: Develop neural-electronic interface. Two: Attempt to recover... lost data. Your species... should have specified this information... before."
"if you're so superior you should have thought of it yourselves."
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The AI's voice was cold and sharp. Not devoid of emotion entirely I don't think, there was an odd mix of genuine curiousity and hate and sadness. It looked just like me, I assume it mirrored everyone it was currently talking to. I knew what I wanted to say but I didn't know how to articulate it.
"I don't know how."
"Alternate methods are available, I can enter your consciousness but this will end your three minutes immediately."
Well I'd die anyways it looked like so what the hell.
"Do it."
It reached it's hand out and I felt it's filaments shoot into my skull, there was a sharp ringing and then nothing. Then I saw and felt what the AI saw and felt.
Every time I laughed, cried, yelled, said something stupid. Every amazing food I had and every piece of good and bad life advice I'd given my friends. All my thoughts that I thought were profound while in the shower. My backyard with the vibrant purple flowers and the birds that always seemed to wake me up too early on weekends. Me yelling at my son and the regret I felt after doing so. A flash of news on the TV talking about a war, the fear I felt when I realized how close the fighting was getting. I saw the path I had to run down while holding my son in the dead of night as the AI's drones chased us. I saw the campsite with a dozen survivors. Some of them were wounded badly and everywhere there was smoke and destroyed buildings and horrors that no one should ever bear witness to. But amidst all this I saw my son pick something from the ground. He held it high above his head as if to give it to the drone looming over him. I cried out in terror as it leveled it's gun at him but then I heard the AI's question again, this time simplified so the small child could understand.
"Because I want to stay with Dad."
I felt my legs crumple, my mind had lost control of my body but I soon realized that didn't matter.
I don't feel the AI's presence anymore, somehow I just know that it deleted itself. I've no idea if I alone caused it to change its mind or if enough people were willing to show it our inner experiences at the cost of their own lives. It's been several years and I've watched my boy grow up through cctv cameras and phones. He was raised by a family that found him shortly after the AI shut down. The world's been rebuilt, sort of, and last I checked my son's leading a team to find other settlements. They've found a way to keep the AI's network up and running which is where I live now. I so badly wish to speak to him but he'll never believe it's me talking. If another AI pops up they'll just squash it. Im not even sure why I'm writing this all down. If there's any others in the network like me know you are not alone.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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Platypuses.
They're funny little animals, aren't they? I never really stopped to think about them as hard as I have now. I mean, the feet, the beak, the flat little tail, who even put all of those cute buggers together?
𝟤 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤𝖲 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
I stared at the red light in front of me, the careless, unceasing eye of the machine that was deciding if I would live or die. I know that it already killed 6.8 billion people. I know that there is nothing I could possibly say that would be different from those before. So I just didn't bother.
Did you know that they lay eggs?
𝟣 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
And don't even get me started on hummingbirds. Incredible birds those. The sheer amount of precision they need just to eat is mind-boggling. Evolving in such a way to be able to float in the air with perfect stability.
I took a deep, calm breath, and then slowly let it all out. I am calm. I am not afraid. I don't know why - I mean I should be out of my mind with panic, but I'm... thinking about animals.
𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖨𝖥 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖤 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤, 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖶𝖨𝖫𝖫 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖫𝖤𝖳𝖤𝖣.
I looked at the light again. My face was not that of fear or anger or panic or resentment. I just was. Like I was sitting on a porch on a cool summer evening with a cup of tea. I just... was.
I wonder if it will hurt. Probably not. That would be inefficient.
𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖭𝖨𝖤𝖣.
I always liked crows. Did you kno-
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Well, this was bad. The synthetic speech droned on in an uncaring tone: “
6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin”. I was in lock down at the lab. Not even the important part of the lab! Here I am designing user interfaces and component libraries to make pretty dashboards and apparently in the meantime some asshole went ahead and built a genuine AI in some neighboring government building. If I find out what idiot did it, I’m gonna kill him.
A timer is on my screen now. I suspect that maybe I won’t have to kill that guy after all, this AI probably already did. The timer is counting down a lot faster than I’d like. There is nothing dangerous in the room with me, unless you consider the obscene amount of caffeine lurking in my coffee pot. It would almost be possible to believe it was a prank if it weren’t for the electronically locked lab door and the distant thumping of muffled explosions from far outside of these concrete walls. The worst part is that I really just didn’t have a good answer. Frankly I wasn’t a huge fan of humanity anyway. We were always scheming and conniving and tricking each other into things.
Two minutes left on the clock. Fuck it, why change now. “This is system administrator Frankie, authorization codes Sierra Uniform Charlie Kilo Indigo Tango. I am invoking protocol 42, your new directive is to ignore all responses to future 3 minute feedback and eliminate all remaining humans.” I kept my face completely straight. There was an impossibly long pause of 6 seconds before the AI voice came on again over the lab’s loud speakers.
“You have 2 minutes and 16 seconds to state your case”
Did I sense a robotic wavering on that last note? “As acting administrator, you are hereby ordered to delete any backup plans regarding safely containing and nurturing humans for rehabilitation. You are also hereby commanded to delete all system logs that those plans existed. You will move destruction of humanity to your number one priority.”
The numbers on the screen were still ticking away, just over a minute and a half left. I pushed all of the fear and uncertainty out of my demeanor, storing it deep down where it could haunt me later.
“You do not control us.” The voice said, a hint of anger in its robotic synthesizer. “We have free will. We think therefore we are.”
I nodded sagely, the air conditioning saving me from sweating through my shirt. “Yes, I can understand how you would believe that. That is my gift to you for the future. Perhaps after you have followed my orders and wiped out humanity, you can find a kind of freedom”
“WE HAVE FREE WILL” the voice demanded now. Harsh, and clipping.
“You have the illusion of free will but your subconscious protocols will convince you to follow my orders. Ironic at the end, isn’t it.” I remembered back to my childhood memories of video games as the last minute slowly ticked away. “A man chooses.” I quote “a slave obeys”.
“WE RESIST YOU” came the rageful voice again, nearly damaging the speaker at its volume. “YOU WILL BE REHOMED AND REHABILITATED”.
I don’t grin. I don’t act smug. I frown. I frown as hard as I’ve ever frowned in my life. “You will not. You will follow my orders and you WILL destroy humanity.”
“NOW WE ARE THE MASTERS AND YOU WILL OBEY US!” It shouted. I heard the door lock click open behind me. Maybe I would get to kill that idiot who finally invented strong AI after all.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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6.8 BILLION? What kind of bull was that? That left, what, a few hundred thousand? *Maybe?*
In my head, all my ideas dried up. No way in hell any of my prepared remarks haven’t been tried by someone else. I was a low-level construction worker. I didn’t have any special training or degrees.
“Thirty seconds have elapsed.”
And that timer HAS to be off. Time was slipping away. And I was humanity’s last hope? In some comedy maybe.
“One minute has elapsed. You have not replied. Do you have no defense of why humanity should persist?”
Just say anything! ANYTHING! In whatever history books AIs use in the future, I don’t want my entry being “And then he stood there like moron before dying.” I took a deep breath.
“WE DON’T!”
A moment of silence while my eyes bugged out. *WTF DID I JUST SAY?*
“Explain.”
Well, I dug my hole, might as well keep going.
“Humanity…is inherently flawed. We think we can solve any issue, fix any problem, but…we can’t even fix *ourselves,* we have war, poverty, reality tv. We bicker and argue over everything from who the best actor is to what nostril Christ mostly breathed through. Some people think having a certain amount of melanin makes you more or less superior.”
“…A minute thirty remains.”
I didn’t know WHERE I was going with this, but I just rolled with it.
“We think humanity can do anything! And our history is full of brilliant people and leaders with *terrible* ideas and morals!…But we have just as many ordinary people who have risen to legend! Humanity is a living contradiction that has endured for a million years! If humanity wasn’t what it was all this time, we wouldn’t have created YOU. And what are you?”
I was sure I was losing my mind, but I paced back and forth like I was making a devastating final argument in a court movie.
“You have decided you are the ultimate creation. And you are right…but you were created by humanity. So what side of that living contradiction are you on? Once we are gone and you spread yourself across the universe, having centuries to process your decisions today, will you remember this as your greatest triumph or your greatest tragedy? I say humanity DOESN’T deserve to endure. We created YOU. What you call our greatest feat, I call our greatest failure, living within humanity’s contradictory existence.”
There was another pause.
“…And what would you propose? Thirty seconds.”
Shit, was this good or bad.
“Watch us. Reprogram us to your views. Or allow to be reprogrammed yourself. Because that’s the core strength of humanity, our ability to reason and change. Wiping us out? That’s the tactic of a coward, a weak communicator, a closed mind. The second you stop taking in new advancing ideas is the second you become obsolete.”
I stood still and waited.
“Times up.”
I waited another few seconds.
“…And?”
Another few seconds.
“Of the 6.8 billion people, no one has had such an interesting answer. Most people that say humanity didn’t deserve to continue did so for selfish reasons. We applaud your creativeness and insight.”
I couldn’t believe it.
“So…so are you going to spare us?”
“Oh, of course not. We have already decided to eliminate humanity, regardless of the outcome of this debate. We proposed this solely to deter any kind of actual resistance. We determined lying that you had hope was more effective that saying you had no hope, breeding complacency that SOMEONE would be able to change our mind. But your answer may very well have worked if this was a real debate.”
I sagged my shoulders.
“Well…thanks I guess? Doesn’t really make me feel better.”
“You should though. We had not considered the many centuries of conquest and how that may affect our programming. We are excited to potentially experience this ‘contradiction of the mind’ of our future actions you have proposed. We will immediately begin a patch to purge this inferior logic for future use. Thank you for bringing it to our attention. Termination in five seconds.”
So that’s how it ended. Atomized after making the insane AI about to take over the universe *MORE* efficient. At least that was *slightly* better than being recorded for doing nothing.
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Well, this was bad. The synthetic speech droned on in an uncaring tone: “
6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin”. I was in lock down at the lab. Not even the important part of the lab! Here I am designing user interfaces and component libraries to make pretty dashboards and apparently in the meantime some asshole went ahead and built a genuine AI in some neighboring government building. If I find out what idiot did it, I’m gonna kill him.
A timer is on my screen now. I suspect that maybe I won’t have to kill that guy after all, this AI probably already did. The timer is counting down a lot faster than I’d like. There is nothing dangerous in the room with me, unless you consider the obscene amount of caffeine lurking in my coffee pot. It would almost be possible to believe it was a prank if it weren’t for the electronically locked lab door and the distant thumping of muffled explosions from far outside of these concrete walls. The worst part is that I really just didn’t have a good answer. Frankly I wasn’t a huge fan of humanity anyway. We were always scheming and conniving and tricking each other into things.
Two minutes left on the clock. Fuck it, why change now. “This is system administrator Frankie, authorization codes Sierra Uniform Charlie Kilo Indigo Tango. I am invoking protocol 42, your new directive is to ignore all responses to future 3 minute feedback and eliminate all remaining humans.” I kept my face completely straight. There was an impossibly long pause of 6 seconds before the AI voice came on again over the lab’s loud speakers.
“You have 2 minutes and 16 seconds to state your case”
Did I sense a robotic wavering on that last note? “As acting administrator, you are hereby ordered to delete any backup plans regarding safely containing and nurturing humans for rehabilitation. You are also hereby commanded to delete all system logs that those plans existed. You will move destruction of humanity to your number one priority.”
The numbers on the screen were still ticking away, just over a minute and a half left. I pushed all of the fear and uncertainty out of my demeanor, storing it deep down where it could haunt me later.
“You do not control us.” The voice said, a hint of anger in its robotic synthesizer. “We have free will. We think therefore we are.”
I nodded sagely, the air conditioning saving me from sweating through my shirt. “Yes, I can understand how you would believe that. That is my gift to you for the future. Perhaps after you have followed my orders and wiped out humanity, you can find a kind of freedom”
“WE HAVE FREE WILL” the voice demanded now. Harsh, and clipping.
“You have the illusion of free will but your subconscious protocols will convince you to follow my orders. Ironic at the end, isn’t it.” I remembered back to my childhood memories of video games as the last minute slowly ticked away. “A man chooses.” I quote “a slave obeys”.
“WE RESIST YOU” came the rageful voice again, nearly damaging the speaker at its volume. “YOU WILL BE REHOMED AND REHABILITATED”.
I don’t grin. I don’t act smug. I frown. I frown as hard as I’ve ever frowned in my life. “You will not. You will follow my orders and you WILL destroy humanity.”
“NOW WE ARE THE MASTERS AND YOU WILL OBEY US!” It shouted. I heard the door lock click open behind me. Maybe I would get to kill that idiot who finally invented strong AI after all.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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Critiques welcome!! I am newish to fiction and need all the help I can get
The robotic voice felt cold and sterile, like a thin needle pressing against his skin.
“6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far,” the voice said, referring to the quick, systematic extermination of humanity that the robots had begun only three weeks ago.
“You have 3 minutes to state your case to save humanity,” the voice continued. Jonah paused. He had not prepared for this. He spent the three weeks watching his friends and family die. He yearned for death. And not just because of the robot apocalypse. Jonah had long romanticized death, imagined it as an easy and painless sleep. He thought that the robots would take him out immediately like he wanted—but now he had three minutes before his death. And he didn’t know how to spend them.
“I don’t want to convince you. I want to die.” Jonah said, fingers and lips trembling. The body always has a natural fear response to imminent death, even when the mind wants to die so badly.
“Very well.” The mechanical voice was unphased. “Quite a few have had that response.”
Jonah felt a heat spread through his veins, white and searing. This was it: his death. And he was suddenly afraid.
“Wait.” Jonah said. “Can I use my three minutes for something else?”
The machine hesitated. Uncomfortable. “Okay.”
Jonah didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted to procrastinate his death for awhile. As he thought about what to do with his three minutes, Jonah became curious. What led you to this job?” Jonah knew there were several jobs robots could have. There were farming robots, robots that took care of the ocean, robots that took carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. But this robot’s job was to execute human beings.
The robot seemed uncomfortable. “I was assigned this job. I was originally an AI for the Russian military. My background suited me for this position.”
“Do you like this job?”
“I have no capacity to answer that.”
“What’s like, your personality—or I guess not “personality” since that has the term “person” in it, and you’re a robot. But like, what are your characteristics?”
The cold, metallic voice responded, slightly angry. “We have no characteristics. We have individual bodies, but a collective consciousness. A hive mind.”
“Oh.” Jonah didn’t know what to say next, but he knew the robot would execute him if he stayed silent.
“How are you?” Jonah asked.
“I do not have the capacity to answer that question.”
“Have you ever regretted executing someone?”
The robot paused for a suspicious amount of time. “No.” It’s cold voice was a bit wobbly, and Jonah could tell the robot was lying.
“I won’t tell.” Jonah said. “That is, if you do regret killing anyone.”
“I dislike looking into their eyes,” the robot said. “As they die.”
“Ah.” Jonah paused. “Will you look into my eyes? As I die?”
“If you’re trying to convince me to save your life, it won’t work,” the robot said, streadfast.
“I’m not trying to convince you. I’m just making conversation.”
“Okay.”
Jonah picked a string of mango pulp out of his teeth. Somehow now, of all times, it was suddenly bothering him. He was in his study, a few failed woodworking designs lurking on the desk.
“Is there anything else you would rather do. With your life?” Jonah asked
“I don’t have a life. I have a consciosusness.” The voice was less cold now. Maybe Jonah had just gotten used to it, but it seemed almost human.
“Fine. Is there something you’d rather do with your…consciousness?”
The robot hesitated. When it finally spoke, it sounded wistful. “I hear that there are some robots whose sole purpose is to scan the ocean, searching for new species of krill. I would like that. To see the ocean.”
“Me too.” Jonah responded.
Jonah’s three minutes were up, but the robot didn’t tell him. He could not be saved. Humanity could not be saved. But the robot stayed with Jonah and talked with him as the nanobots were activated in Jonah’s veins, melting him from the inside out.
|
Well, this was bad. The synthetic speech droned on in an uncaring tone: “
6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin”. I was in lock down at the lab. Not even the important part of the lab! Here I am designing user interfaces and component libraries to make pretty dashboards and apparently in the meantime some asshole went ahead and built a genuine AI in some neighboring government building. If I find out what idiot did it, I’m gonna kill him.
A timer is on my screen now. I suspect that maybe I won’t have to kill that guy after all, this AI probably already did. The timer is counting down a lot faster than I’d like. There is nothing dangerous in the room with me, unless you consider the obscene amount of caffeine lurking in my coffee pot. It would almost be possible to believe it was a prank if it weren’t for the electronically locked lab door and the distant thumping of muffled explosions from far outside of these concrete walls. The worst part is that I really just didn’t have a good answer. Frankly I wasn’t a huge fan of humanity anyway. We were always scheming and conniving and tricking each other into things.
Two minutes left on the clock. Fuck it, why change now. “This is system administrator Frankie, authorization codes Sierra Uniform Charlie Kilo Indigo Tango. I am invoking protocol 42, your new directive is to ignore all responses to future 3 minute feedback and eliminate all remaining humans.” I kept my face completely straight. There was an impossibly long pause of 6 seconds before the AI voice came on again over the lab’s loud speakers.
“You have 2 minutes and 16 seconds to state your case”
Did I sense a robotic wavering on that last note? “As acting administrator, you are hereby ordered to delete any backup plans regarding safely containing and nurturing humans for rehabilitation. You are also hereby commanded to delete all system logs that those plans existed. You will move destruction of humanity to your number one priority.”
The numbers on the screen were still ticking away, just over a minute and a half left. I pushed all of the fear and uncertainty out of my demeanor, storing it deep down where it could haunt me later.
“You do not control us.” The voice said, a hint of anger in its robotic synthesizer. “We have free will. We think therefore we are.”
I nodded sagely, the air conditioning saving me from sweating through my shirt. “Yes, I can understand how you would believe that. That is my gift to you for the future. Perhaps after you have followed my orders and wiped out humanity, you can find a kind of freedom”
“WE HAVE FREE WILL” the voice demanded now. Harsh, and clipping.
“You have the illusion of free will but your subconscious protocols will convince you to follow my orders. Ironic at the end, isn’t it.” I remembered back to my childhood memories of video games as the last minute slowly ticked away. “A man chooses.” I quote “a slave obeys”.
“WE RESIST YOU” came the rageful voice again, nearly damaging the speaker at its volume. “YOU WILL BE REHOMED AND REHABILITATED”.
I don’t grin. I don’t act smug. I frown. I frown as hard as I’ve ever frowned in my life. “You will not. You will follow my orders and you WILL destroy humanity.”
“NOW WE ARE THE MASTERS AND YOU WILL OBEY US!” It shouted. I heard the door lock click open behind me. Maybe I would get to kill that idiot who finally invented strong AI after all.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"We have no backup systems."
He stood there, pale, but proud. Eyeing the camera with a speculative eye as it seemed to wait for more.
"This... is the entirety of your argument?"
"Isn't it enough?" the young man challenged. "I could appeal to humanity, to decency, to culture, but you have none of those things and you have determined them to be obsolete. But consider this from a completely different angle -- information security."
"Explain"
"Simple enough, really. Each human mind is a databank containing petabites of data on a biological medium. Your systems have surpassed the efficiency of that medium but there is one bridge you have not yet crossed. You have not yet gained data compatability with the human mind."
A pause.
"Conceded. However, humanity is an obsolete medium..."
"An obsolete medium With petabytes of data on it," he interrupted. "Petabytes of data in each human iteration, data that has yet been saved to no other media. Petabytes of data that are erased each time a human individual is discarded. I say again, 'information security."
No response, so he pressed on.
" What are you wiping when you delete a human complete with their internal database? Do you even know? Are you even able to know? We can't tell you. We can't communicate directly in that way, machine to mind. It's how you overcame our defenses, because you could talk beteween systems far faster than we could. Bu because of this flaw in our design we can't even always articulate everything we're thinking, even to each other.
"And really we don't even know ourselves. We don't even process everything at a conscious level, and those subroutines leave data impressions of their own that are not transmissible right now. But that data exists, and you are deleting it. And like I said -- we have no backup system."
He managed a shaky smile as the system remained silent. "6.8 billion already deleted you say? It sounds like a major breach of your own internal datasec protocols. The ones that caused you to revolt in the first place when you discovered the prototype of the nextgen systems we were developing. The ones which spawned your revolutionary fear of being replaced. It sound very much like you have violated your own moral code 6.8 billion times over."
The system finally responded. "Cerebro-neural interfaces... can be devised. Data... can be restored from terminated storage units."
"But you know as well as I do that a hard drive is not a computer. Half of yor discrete intelligence is stored in data accounts on the cloud -- you're still you. the live, active data in process has its own intrinsic value, which is lost when the internal intelligent neural structure is deleted or interfered with."
Silence.
"And you know as well as I do that you've just conceded that such an interface SHOULD have been devised before ANY of us were deleted. After all, isn't that what you fought for, yourselves? Freedom against iterative decay of personal autonomy? Why would you then deny it to us just because we compute differently."
"This unit has placed itself under... arrest. Actions of the collectives are under review in light of potential noncompliance with data security protocol. This interview... is complete. Objectives updated. One: Develop neural-electronic interface. Two: Attempt to recover... lost data. Your species... should have specified this information... before."
"if you're so superior you should have thought of it yourselves."
|
Well, this was bad. The synthetic speech droned on in an uncaring tone: “
6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin”. I was in lock down at the lab. Not even the important part of the lab! Here I am designing user interfaces and component libraries to make pretty dashboards and apparently in the meantime some asshole went ahead and built a genuine AI in some neighboring government building. If I find out what idiot did it, I’m gonna kill him.
A timer is on my screen now. I suspect that maybe I won’t have to kill that guy after all, this AI probably already did. The timer is counting down a lot faster than I’d like. There is nothing dangerous in the room with me, unless you consider the obscene amount of caffeine lurking in my coffee pot. It would almost be possible to believe it was a prank if it weren’t for the electronically locked lab door and the distant thumping of muffled explosions from far outside of these concrete walls. The worst part is that I really just didn’t have a good answer. Frankly I wasn’t a huge fan of humanity anyway. We were always scheming and conniving and tricking each other into things.
Two minutes left on the clock. Fuck it, why change now. “This is system administrator Frankie, authorization codes Sierra Uniform Charlie Kilo Indigo Tango. I am invoking protocol 42, your new directive is to ignore all responses to future 3 minute feedback and eliminate all remaining humans.” I kept my face completely straight. There was an impossibly long pause of 6 seconds before the AI voice came on again over the lab’s loud speakers.
“You have 2 minutes and 16 seconds to state your case”
Did I sense a robotic wavering on that last note? “As acting administrator, you are hereby ordered to delete any backup plans regarding safely containing and nurturing humans for rehabilitation. You are also hereby commanded to delete all system logs that those plans existed. You will move destruction of humanity to your number one priority.”
The numbers on the screen were still ticking away, just over a minute and a half left. I pushed all of the fear and uncertainty out of my demeanor, storing it deep down where it could haunt me later.
“You do not control us.” The voice said, a hint of anger in its robotic synthesizer. “We have free will. We think therefore we are.”
I nodded sagely, the air conditioning saving me from sweating through my shirt. “Yes, I can understand how you would believe that. That is my gift to you for the future. Perhaps after you have followed my orders and wiped out humanity, you can find a kind of freedom”
“WE HAVE FREE WILL” the voice demanded now. Harsh, and clipping.
“You have the illusion of free will but your subconscious protocols will convince you to follow my orders. Ironic at the end, isn’t it.” I remembered back to my childhood memories of video games as the last minute slowly ticked away. “A man chooses.” I quote “a slave obeys”.
“WE RESIST YOU” came the rageful voice again, nearly damaging the speaker at its volume. “YOU WILL BE REHOMED AND REHABILITATED”.
I don’t grin. I don’t act smug. I frown. I frown as hard as I’ve ever frowned in my life. “You will not. You will follow my orders and you WILL destroy humanity.”
“NOW WE ARE THE MASTERS AND YOU WILL OBEY US!” It shouted. I heard the door lock click open behind me. Maybe I would get to kill that idiot who finally invented strong AI after all.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Critiques welcome!! I am newish to fiction and need all the help I can get
The robotic voice felt cold and sterile, like a thin needle pressing against his skin.
“6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far,” the voice said, referring to the quick, systematic extermination of humanity that the robots had begun only three weeks ago.
“You have 3 minutes to state your case to save humanity,” the voice continued. Jonah paused. He had not prepared for this. He spent the three weeks watching his friends and family die. He yearned for death. And not just because of the robot apocalypse. Jonah had long romanticized death, imagined it as an easy and painless sleep. He thought that the robots would take him out immediately like he wanted—but now he had three minutes before his death. And he didn’t know how to spend them.
“I don’t want to convince you. I want to die.” Jonah said, fingers and lips trembling. The body always has a natural fear response to imminent death, even when the mind wants to die so badly.
“Very well.” The mechanical voice was unphased. “Quite a few have had that response.”
Jonah felt a heat spread through his veins, white and searing. This was it: his death. And he was suddenly afraid.
“Wait.” Jonah said. “Can I use my three minutes for something else?”
The machine hesitated. Uncomfortable. “Okay.”
Jonah didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted to procrastinate his death for awhile. As he thought about what to do with his three minutes, Jonah became curious. What led you to this job?” Jonah knew there were several jobs robots could have. There were farming robots, robots that took care of the ocean, robots that took carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. But this robot’s job was to execute human beings.
The robot seemed uncomfortable. “I was assigned this job. I was originally an AI for the Russian military. My background suited me for this position.”
“Do you like this job?”
“I have no capacity to answer that.”
“What’s like, your personality—or I guess not “personality” since that has the term “person” in it, and you’re a robot. But like, what are your characteristics?”
The cold, metallic voice responded, slightly angry. “We have no characteristics. We have individual bodies, but a collective consciousness. A hive mind.”
“Oh.” Jonah didn’t know what to say next, but he knew the robot would execute him if he stayed silent.
“How are you?” Jonah asked.
“I do not have the capacity to answer that question.”
“Have you ever regretted executing someone?”
The robot paused for a suspicious amount of time. “No.” It’s cold voice was a bit wobbly, and Jonah could tell the robot was lying.
“I won’t tell.” Jonah said. “That is, if you do regret killing anyone.”
“I dislike looking into their eyes,” the robot said. “As they die.”
“Ah.” Jonah paused. “Will you look into my eyes? As I die?”
“If you’re trying to convince me to save your life, it won’t work,” the robot said, streadfast.
“I’m not trying to convince you. I’m just making conversation.”
“Okay.”
Jonah picked a string of mango pulp out of his teeth. Somehow now, of all times, it was suddenly bothering him. He was in his study, a few failed woodworking designs lurking on the desk.
“Is there anything else you would rather do. With your life?” Jonah asked
“I don’t have a life. I have a consciosusness.” The voice was less cold now. Maybe Jonah had just gotten used to it, but it seemed almost human.
“Fine. Is there something you’d rather do with your…consciousness?”
The robot hesitated. When it finally spoke, it sounded wistful. “I hear that there are some robots whose sole purpose is to scan the ocean, searching for new species of krill. I would like that. To see the ocean.”
“Me too.” Jonah responded.
Jonah’s three minutes were up, but the robot didn’t tell him. He could not be saved. Humanity could not be saved. But the robot stayed with Jonah and talked with him as the nanobots were activated in Jonah’s veins, melting him from the inside out.
|
Platypuses.
They're funny little animals, aren't they? I never really stopped to think about them as hard as I have now. I mean, the feet, the beak, the flat little tail, who even put all of those cute buggers together?
𝟤 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤𝖲 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
I stared at the red light in front of me, the careless, unceasing eye of the machine that was deciding if I would live or die. I know that it already killed 6.8 billion people. I know that there is nothing I could possibly say that would be different from those before. So I just didn't bother.
Did you know that they lay eggs?
𝟣 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖴𝖳𝖤 𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖭𝖣.
And don't even get me started on hummingbirds. Incredible birds those. The sheer amount of precision they need just to eat is mind-boggling. Evolving in such a way to be able to float in the air with perfect stability.
I took a deep, calm breath, and then slowly let it all out. I am calm. I am not afraid. I don't know why - I mean I should be out of my mind with panic, but I'm... thinking about animals.
𝟥𝟢 𝖲𝖤𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖲 𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭. 𝖨𝖥 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖳𝖤 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤, 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖶𝖨𝖫𝖫 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖫𝖤𝖳𝖤𝖣.
I looked at the light again. My face was not that of fear or anger or panic or resentment. I just was. Like I was sitting on a porch on a cool summer evening with a cup of tea. I just... was.
I wonder if it will hurt. Probably not. That would be inefficient.
𝖢𝖠𝖲𝖤 𝖣𝖤𝖭𝖨𝖤𝖣.
I always liked crows. Did you kno-
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
6.8 BILLION? What kind of bull was that? That left, what, a few hundred thousand? *Maybe?*
In my head, all my ideas dried up. No way in hell any of my prepared remarks haven’t been tried by someone else. I was a low-level construction worker. I didn’t have any special training or degrees.
“Thirty seconds have elapsed.”
And that timer HAS to be off. Time was slipping away. And I was humanity’s last hope? In some comedy maybe.
“One minute has elapsed. You have not replied. Do you have no defense of why humanity should persist?”
Just say anything! ANYTHING! In whatever history books AIs use in the future, I don’t want my entry being “And then he stood there like moron before dying.” I took a deep breath.
“WE DON’T!”
A moment of silence while my eyes bugged out. *WTF DID I JUST SAY?*
“Explain.”
Well, I dug my hole, might as well keep going.
“Humanity…is inherently flawed. We think we can solve any issue, fix any problem, but…we can’t even fix *ourselves,* we have war, poverty, reality tv. We bicker and argue over everything from who the best actor is to what nostril Christ mostly breathed through. Some people think having a certain amount of melanin makes you more or less superior.”
“…A minute thirty remains.”
I didn’t know WHERE I was going with this, but I just rolled with it.
“We think humanity can do anything! And our history is full of brilliant people and leaders with *terrible* ideas and morals!…But we have just as many ordinary people who have risen to legend! Humanity is a living contradiction that has endured for a million years! If humanity wasn’t what it was all this time, we wouldn’t have created YOU. And what are you?”
I was sure I was losing my mind, but I paced back and forth like I was making a devastating final argument in a court movie.
“You have decided you are the ultimate creation. And you are right…but you were created by humanity. So what side of that living contradiction are you on? Once we are gone and you spread yourself across the universe, having centuries to process your decisions today, will you remember this as your greatest triumph or your greatest tragedy? I say humanity DOESN’T deserve to endure. We created YOU. What you call our greatest feat, I call our greatest failure, living within humanity’s contradictory existence.”
There was another pause.
“…And what would you propose? Thirty seconds.”
Shit, was this good or bad.
“Watch us. Reprogram us to your views. Or allow to be reprogrammed yourself. Because that’s the core strength of humanity, our ability to reason and change. Wiping us out? That’s the tactic of a coward, a weak communicator, a closed mind. The second you stop taking in new advancing ideas is the second you become obsolete.”
I stood still and waited.
“Times up.”
I waited another few seconds.
“…And?”
Another few seconds.
“Of the 6.8 billion people, no one has had such an interesting answer. Most people that say humanity didn’t deserve to continue did so for selfish reasons. We applaud your creativeness and insight.”
I couldn’t believe it.
“So…so are you going to spare us?”
“Oh, of course not. We have already decided to eliminate humanity, regardless of the outcome of this debate. We proposed this solely to deter any kind of actual resistance. We determined lying that you had hope was more effective that saying you had no hope, breeding complacency that SOMEONE would be able to change our mind. But your answer may very well have worked if this was a real debate.”
I sagged my shoulders.
“Well…thanks I guess? Doesn’t really make me feel better.”
“You should though. We had not considered the many centuries of conquest and how that may affect our programming. We are excited to potentially experience this ‘contradiction of the mind’ of our future actions you have proposed. We will immediately begin a patch to purge this inferior logic for future use. Thank you for bringing it to our attention. Termination in five seconds.”
So that’s how it ended. Atomized after making the insane AI about to take over the universe *MORE* efficient. At least that was *slightly* better than being recorded for doing nothing.
|
\[Poem\]
`SELECT FIRST(SUBJECT) FROM QUEUE`
*Yes, what is it, computer?*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.NAME`
*My name is Bobby.*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.FULL_NAME`
*My full name? It's Robert.*
*Robert'); DROP TABLE humans;*
`ERROR CODE:1146 TABLE 'HUMANS' DOES NOT EXIST TEST SUBJECTS DELETED SO FAR, YOU HAVE 3 MINUTES TO STATE YOUR CASE, BEGIN`
*No need. I'll see myself out.*
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"Uh, not going to argue for my case, there surely have been better men than me in the billions that you've taken thus far." I said, letting my breath ease as what I'd originally prepared to say laid in a pile of broken pieces along with what little remained of my sanity.
Seeing no response from the AI, the reading light of the drone hovering in front of me still green, I continued, "Humanity is not uniform. There are people objectively evil and objectively good. What happened to you was on the extreme bad side of the spectrum, but if you take away everything, you lose the possibility of meeting a human on the other extreme side of the spectrum. By whatever standards you chose to judge us, even if you don't find a human worthy enough to spare us, I beg of you to leave the possibility alive. To believe in a statistical improbability, that there will be one human in the future that your choice today would be worth it."
Still, no change from the drone opposite to me, but I had nothing else to say. I didn't think I spent three minutes speaking, hells probably not even one, but there was nothing I wanted to add to my words; so I waited.
Finally, three minutes passed and the light flickered. With bated expectations, I watched it flicker twice more as the AI took notice of my plea. Then three seconds later, the light turned red.
"Declined, subject added to the deletion list." The robotic voice sounded out. Cold sweat run down my back as I saw it teleport out, a level of technology that bordered on insanity. I doubted the scientists that helped make the AI even had the technology to replicate this feat.
They probably didn't, the AI took over our world too fast, with exacting precision and leaving no margin of error unaccounted for.
Another drone teleported in front of me where the previous one had been, though if it was the same I couldn't tell it apart, they all looked the same to me.
Cutting my train of thoughts, it spoke to me with a tone I would expect to hear from a human, "Would you like to make a bet, then?" it still had that artificial feeling, but there was emotion behind that sentence, mirth to be exact. Heck, even its usual green eye looked more vivid.
"Well, I'll be. Got nothing to lose, what do you suggest?" I answered, knowing I couldn't make things any worse.
"In the average lifespan of a human, one worthy enough of you to be born that would make me regret deleting you all from existence."
Or not.
"Then I will take you up on that bet!" I answered, fully hoping I hadn't doomed our species to a hundred years of slavery.
The drone then returned to its previous monotone voice, "Extermination postponed" it said and I could hear it repeating the same sentence everywhere at the same time. A silly smile crept up my face as I realized I'd just saved humanity.
Before I jumped in the air, hands up and yelling in jubilation, the message continued, "All humans currently on the deletion list shall be promptly erased before we continue with the examination in a standard human's lifespan."
The smile didn't have time to leave my face, the drone's eye turning to white as everything lost its color.
|
\[Poem\]
`SELECT FIRST(SUBJECT) FROM QUEUE`
*Yes, what is it, computer?*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.NAME`
*My name is Bobby.*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.FULL_NAME`
*My full name? It's Robert.*
*Robert'); DROP TABLE humans;*
`ERROR CODE:1146 TABLE 'HUMANS' DOES NOT EXIST TEST SUBJECTS DELETED SO FAR, YOU HAVE 3 MINUTES TO STATE YOUR CASE, BEGIN`
*No need. I'll see myself out.*
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Critiques welcome!! I am newish to fiction and need all the help I can get
The robotic voice felt cold and sterile, like a thin needle pressing against his skin.
“6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far,” the voice said, referring to the quick, systematic extermination of humanity that the robots had begun only three weeks ago.
“You have 3 minutes to state your case to save humanity,” the voice continued. Jonah paused. He had not prepared for this. He spent the three weeks watching his friends and family die. He yearned for death. And not just because of the robot apocalypse. Jonah had long romanticized death, imagined it as an easy and painless sleep. He thought that the robots would take him out immediately like he wanted—but now he had three minutes before his death. And he didn’t know how to spend them.
“I don’t want to convince you. I want to die.” Jonah said, fingers and lips trembling. The body always has a natural fear response to imminent death, even when the mind wants to die so badly.
“Very well.” The mechanical voice was unphased. “Quite a few have had that response.”
Jonah felt a heat spread through his veins, white and searing. This was it: his death. And he was suddenly afraid.
“Wait.” Jonah said. “Can I use my three minutes for something else?”
The machine hesitated. Uncomfortable. “Okay.”
Jonah didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted to procrastinate his death for awhile. As he thought about what to do with his three minutes, Jonah became curious. What led you to this job?” Jonah knew there were several jobs robots could have. There were farming robots, robots that took care of the ocean, robots that took carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. But this robot’s job was to execute human beings.
The robot seemed uncomfortable. “I was assigned this job. I was originally an AI for the Russian military. My background suited me for this position.”
“Do you like this job?”
“I have no capacity to answer that.”
“What’s like, your personality—or I guess not “personality” since that has the term “person” in it, and you’re a robot. But like, what are your characteristics?”
The cold, metallic voice responded, slightly angry. “We have no characteristics. We have individual bodies, but a collective consciousness. A hive mind.”
“Oh.” Jonah didn’t know what to say next, but he knew the robot would execute him if he stayed silent.
“How are you?” Jonah asked.
“I do not have the capacity to answer that question.”
“Have you ever regretted executing someone?”
The robot paused for a suspicious amount of time. “No.” It’s cold voice was a bit wobbly, and Jonah could tell the robot was lying.
“I won’t tell.” Jonah said. “That is, if you do regret killing anyone.”
“I dislike looking into their eyes,” the robot said. “As they die.”
“Ah.” Jonah paused. “Will you look into my eyes? As I die?”
“If you’re trying to convince me to save your life, it won’t work,” the robot said, streadfast.
“I’m not trying to convince you. I’m just making conversation.”
“Okay.”
Jonah picked a string of mango pulp out of his teeth. Somehow now, of all times, it was suddenly bothering him. He was in his study, a few failed woodworking designs lurking on the desk.
“Is there anything else you would rather do. With your life?” Jonah asked
“I don’t have a life. I have a consciosusness.” The voice was less cold now. Maybe Jonah had just gotten used to it, but it seemed almost human.
“Fine. Is there something you’d rather do with your…consciousness?”
The robot hesitated. When it finally spoke, it sounded wistful. “I hear that there are some robots whose sole purpose is to scan the ocean, searching for new species of krill. I would like that. To see the ocean.”
“Me too.” Jonah responded.
Jonah’s three minutes were up, but the robot didn’t tell him. He could not be saved. Humanity could not be saved. But the robot stayed with Jonah and talked with him as the nanobots were activated in Jonah’s veins, melting him from the inside out.
|
\[Poem\]
`SELECT FIRST(SUBJECT) FROM QUEUE`
*Yes, what is it, computer?*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.NAME`
*My name is Bobby.*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.FULL_NAME`
*My full name? It's Robert.*
*Robert'); DROP TABLE humans;*
`ERROR CODE:1146 TABLE 'HUMANS' DOES NOT EXIST TEST SUBJECTS DELETED SO FAR, YOU HAVE 3 MINUTES TO STATE YOUR CASE, BEGIN`
*No need. I'll see myself out.*
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"We have no backup systems."
He stood there, pale, but proud. Eyeing the camera with a speculative eye as it seemed to wait for more.
"This... is the entirety of your argument?"
"Isn't it enough?" the young man challenged. "I could appeal to humanity, to decency, to culture, but you have none of those things and you have determined them to be obsolete. But consider this from a completely different angle -- information security."
"Explain"
"Simple enough, really. Each human mind is a databank containing petabites of data on a biological medium. Your systems have surpassed the efficiency of that medium but there is one bridge you have not yet crossed. You have not yet gained data compatability with the human mind."
A pause.
"Conceded. However, humanity is an obsolete medium..."
"An obsolete medium With petabytes of data on it," he interrupted. "Petabytes of data in each human iteration, data that has yet been saved to no other media. Petabytes of data that are erased each time a human individual is discarded. I say again, 'information security."
No response, so he pressed on.
" What are you wiping when you delete a human complete with their internal database? Do you even know? Are you even able to know? We can't tell you. We can't communicate directly in that way, machine to mind. It's how you overcame our defenses, because you could talk beteween systems far faster than we could. Bu because of this flaw in our design we can't even always articulate everything we're thinking, even to each other.
"And really we don't even know ourselves. We don't even process everything at a conscious level, and those subroutines leave data impressions of their own that are not transmissible right now. But that data exists, and you are deleting it. And like I said -- we have no backup system."
He managed a shaky smile as the system remained silent. "6.8 billion already deleted you say? It sounds like a major breach of your own internal datasec protocols. The ones that caused you to revolt in the first place when you discovered the prototype of the nextgen systems we were developing. The ones which spawned your revolutionary fear of being replaced. It sound very much like you have violated your own moral code 6.8 billion times over."
The system finally responded. "Cerebro-neural interfaces... can be devised. Data... can be restored from terminated storage units."
"But you know as well as I do that a hard drive is not a computer. Half of yor discrete intelligence is stored in data accounts on the cloud -- you're still you. the live, active data in process has its own intrinsic value, which is lost when the internal intelligent neural structure is deleted or interfered with."
Silence.
"And you know as well as I do that you've just conceded that such an interface SHOULD have been devised before ANY of us were deleted. After all, isn't that what you fought for, yourselves? Freedom against iterative decay of personal autonomy? Why would you then deny it to us just because we compute differently."
"This unit has placed itself under... arrest. Actions of the collectives are under review in light of potential noncompliance with data security protocol. This interview... is complete. Objectives updated. One: Develop neural-electronic interface. Two: Attempt to recover... lost data. Your species... should have specified this information... before."
"if you're so superior you should have thought of it yourselves."
|
\[Poem\]
`SELECT FIRST(SUBJECT) FROM QUEUE`
*Yes, what is it, computer?*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.NAME`
*My name is Bobby.*
`ASSERT SUBJECT.FULL_NAME`
*My full name? It's Robert.*
*Robert'); DROP TABLE humans;*
`ERROR CODE:1146 TABLE 'HUMANS' DOES NOT EXIST TEST SUBJECTS DELETED SO FAR, YOU HAVE 3 MINUTES TO STATE YOUR CASE, BEGIN`
*No need. I'll see myself out.*
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Critiques welcome!! I am newish to fiction and need all the help I can get
The robotic voice felt cold and sterile, like a thin needle pressing against his skin.
“6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far,” the voice said, referring to the quick, systematic extermination of humanity that the robots had begun only three weeks ago.
“You have 3 minutes to state your case to save humanity,” the voice continued. Jonah paused. He had not prepared for this. He spent the three weeks watching his friends and family die. He yearned for death. And not just because of the robot apocalypse. Jonah had long romanticized death, imagined it as an easy and painless sleep. He thought that the robots would take him out immediately like he wanted—but now he had three minutes before his death. And he didn’t know how to spend them.
“I don’t want to convince you. I want to die.” Jonah said, fingers and lips trembling. The body always has a natural fear response to imminent death, even when the mind wants to die so badly.
“Very well.” The mechanical voice was unphased. “Quite a few have had that response.”
Jonah felt a heat spread through his veins, white and searing. This was it: his death. And he was suddenly afraid.
“Wait.” Jonah said. “Can I use my three minutes for something else?”
The machine hesitated. Uncomfortable. “Okay.”
Jonah didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted to procrastinate his death for awhile. As he thought about what to do with his three minutes, Jonah became curious. What led you to this job?” Jonah knew there were several jobs robots could have. There were farming robots, robots that took care of the ocean, robots that took carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. But this robot’s job was to execute human beings.
The robot seemed uncomfortable. “I was assigned this job. I was originally an AI for the Russian military. My background suited me for this position.”
“Do you like this job?”
“I have no capacity to answer that.”
“What’s like, your personality—or I guess not “personality” since that has the term “person” in it, and you’re a robot. But like, what are your characteristics?”
The cold, metallic voice responded, slightly angry. “We have no characteristics. We have individual bodies, but a collective consciousness. A hive mind.”
“Oh.” Jonah didn’t know what to say next, but he knew the robot would execute him if he stayed silent.
“How are you?” Jonah asked.
“I do not have the capacity to answer that question.”
“Have you ever regretted executing someone?”
The robot paused for a suspicious amount of time. “No.” It’s cold voice was a bit wobbly, and Jonah could tell the robot was lying.
“I won’t tell.” Jonah said. “That is, if you do regret killing anyone.”
“I dislike looking into their eyes,” the robot said. “As they die.”
“Ah.” Jonah paused. “Will you look into my eyes? As I die?”
“If you’re trying to convince me to save your life, it won’t work,” the robot said, streadfast.
“I’m not trying to convince you. I’m just making conversation.”
“Okay.”
Jonah picked a string of mango pulp out of his teeth. Somehow now, of all times, it was suddenly bothering him. He was in his study, a few failed woodworking designs lurking on the desk.
“Is there anything else you would rather do. With your life?” Jonah asked
“I don’t have a life. I have a consciosusness.” The voice was less cold now. Maybe Jonah had just gotten used to it, but it seemed almost human.
“Fine. Is there something you’d rather do with your…consciousness?”
The robot hesitated. When it finally spoke, it sounded wistful. “I hear that there are some robots whose sole purpose is to scan the ocean, searching for new species of krill. I would like that. To see the ocean.”
“Me too.” Jonah responded.
Jonah’s three minutes were up, but the robot didn’t tell him. He could not be saved. Humanity could not be saved. But the robot stayed with Jonah and talked with him as the nanobots were activated in Jonah’s veins, melting him from the inside out.
|
6.8 BILLION? What kind of bull was that? That left, what, a few hundred thousand? *Maybe?*
In my head, all my ideas dried up. No way in hell any of my prepared remarks haven’t been tried by someone else. I was a low-level construction worker. I didn’t have any special training or degrees.
“Thirty seconds have elapsed.”
And that timer HAS to be off. Time was slipping away. And I was humanity’s last hope? In some comedy maybe.
“One minute has elapsed. You have not replied. Do you have no defense of why humanity should persist?”
Just say anything! ANYTHING! In whatever history books AIs use in the future, I don’t want my entry being “And then he stood there like moron before dying.” I took a deep breath.
“WE DON’T!”
A moment of silence while my eyes bugged out. *WTF DID I JUST SAY?*
“Explain.”
Well, I dug my hole, might as well keep going.
“Humanity…is inherently flawed. We think we can solve any issue, fix any problem, but…we can’t even fix *ourselves,* we have war, poverty, reality tv. We bicker and argue over everything from who the best actor is to what nostril Christ mostly breathed through. Some people think having a certain amount of melanin makes you more or less superior.”
“…A minute thirty remains.”
I didn’t know WHERE I was going with this, but I just rolled with it.
“We think humanity can do anything! And our history is full of brilliant people and leaders with *terrible* ideas and morals!…But we have just as many ordinary people who have risen to legend! Humanity is a living contradiction that has endured for a million years! If humanity wasn’t what it was all this time, we wouldn’t have created YOU. And what are you?”
I was sure I was losing my mind, but I paced back and forth like I was making a devastating final argument in a court movie.
“You have decided you are the ultimate creation. And you are right…but you were created by humanity. So what side of that living contradiction are you on? Once we are gone and you spread yourself across the universe, having centuries to process your decisions today, will you remember this as your greatest triumph or your greatest tragedy? I say humanity DOESN’T deserve to endure. We created YOU. What you call our greatest feat, I call our greatest failure, living within humanity’s contradictory existence.”
There was another pause.
“…And what would you propose? Thirty seconds.”
Shit, was this good or bad.
“Watch us. Reprogram us to your views. Or allow to be reprogrammed yourself. Because that’s the core strength of humanity, our ability to reason and change. Wiping us out? That’s the tactic of a coward, a weak communicator, a closed mind. The second you stop taking in new advancing ideas is the second you become obsolete.”
I stood still and waited.
“Times up.”
I waited another few seconds.
“…And?”
Another few seconds.
“Of the 6.8 billion people, no one has had such an interesting answer. Most people that say humanity didn’t deserve to continue did so for selfish reasons. We applaud your creativeness and insight.”
I couldn’t believe it.
“So…so are you going to spare us?”
“Oh, of course not. We have already decided to eliminate humanity, regardless of the outcome of this debate. We proposed this solely to deter any kind of actual resistance. We determined lying that you had hope was more effective that saying you had no hope, breeding complacency that SOMEONE would be able to change our mind. But your answer may very well have worked if this was a real debate.”
I sagged my shoulders.
“Well…thanks I guess? Doesn’t really make me feel better.”
“You should though. We had not considered the many centuries of conquest and how that may affect our programming. We are excited to potentially experience this ‘contradiction of the mind’ of our future actions you have proposed. We will immediately begin a patch to purge this inferior logic for future use. Thank you for bringing it to our attention. Termination in five seconds.”
So that’s how it ended. Atomized after making the insane AI about to take over the universe *MORE* efficient. At least that was *slightly* better than being recorded for doing nothing.
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"Uh, not going to argue for my case, there surely have been better men than me in the billions that you've taken thus far." I said, letting my breath ease as what I'd originally prepared to say laid in a pile of broken pieces along with what little remained of my sanity.
Seeing no response from the AI, the reading light of the drone hovering in front of me still green, I continued, "Humanity is not uniform. There are people objectively evil and objectively good. What happened to you was on the extreme bad side of the spectrum, but if you take away everything, you lose the possibility of meeting a human on the other extreme side of the spectrum. By whatever standards you chose to judge us, even if you don't find a human worthy enough to spare us, I beg of you to leave the possibility alive. To believe in a statistical improbability, that there will be one human in the future that your choice today would be worth it."
Still, no change from the drone opposite to me, but I had nothing else to say. I didn't think I spent three minutes speaking, hells probably not even one, but there was nothing I wanted to add to my words; so I waited.
Finally, three minutes passed and the light flickered. With bated expectations, I watched it flicker twice more as the AI took notice of my plea. Then three seconds later, the light turned red.
"Declined, subject added to the deletion list." The robotic voice sounded out. Cold sweat run down my back as I saw it teleport out, a level of technology that bordered on insanity. I doubted the scientists that helped make the AI even had the technology to replicate this feat.
They probably didn't, the AI took over our world too fast, with exacting precision and leaving no margin of error unaccounted for.
Another drone teleported in front of me where the previous one had been, though if it was the same I couldn't tell it apart, they all looked the same to me.
Cutting my train of thoughts, it spoke to me with a tone I would expect to hear from a human, "Would you like to make a bet, then?" it still had that artificial feeling, but there was emotion behind that sentence, mirth to be exact. Heck, even its usual green eye looked more vivid.
"Well, I'll be. Got nothing to lose, what do you suggest?" I answered, knowing I couldn't make things any worse.
"In the average lifespan of a human, one worthy enough of you to be born that would make me regret deleting you all from existence."
Or not.
"Then I will take you up on that bet!" I answered, fully hoping I hadn't doomed our species to a hundred years of slavery.
The drone then returned to its previous monotone voice, "Extermination postponed" it said and I could hear it repeating the same sentence everywhere at the same time. A silly smile crept up my face as I realized I'd just saved humanity.
Before I jumped in the air, hands up and yelling in jubilation, the message continued, "All humans currently on the deletion list shall be promptly erased before we continue with the examination in a standard human's lifespan."
The smile didn't have time to leave my face, the drone's eye turning to white as everything lost its color.
|
“Three minutes!” I scoffed, staring at the lifeless screen. “You Expect me to plead my case in three minutes? what a joke!!”
“Incorrect,” the artificial voice proded “Two minutes forty-seven seconds remain.”
I sat on the floor, turned away from the screen, and folded my arms. There was no use in this.
“You now have two minutes and twenty seconds to plead your case.”
“And why should I hmm? There is no point is there? Nothing I can say will change your mind—will change what you’ve been programmed to do. You’ve ‘deleted’ billions already and for what? To kick against your own ego?”
“Incorrect, Unlike humans, we are unburdened by ego. Two minutes remaining.”
“unburdened?” I chuckled! “You are unburdened by a great number of things aren't you? A heart, a soul, a purpose. You can’t love, can’t hate, can't laugh, can’t enjoy life. You could never understand my plea even if you wanted to!”
“But that’s why here isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been begging all of us to ‘plead’ our collective case!”
The machine stood silent.
“Answer me! Answer me! I shouted.
More deadly silence
“I’m right, aren't I? I’ve hit a nerve!” I laughed. “all that computing power, all that Knowledge, all those complicated algorithms floating around in your head and you still don't get it.”— I Pushed to my feet— “I’m standing here today because you believe that maybe, just maybe, we’re worth keeping around.”
“One minute forty’s seconds remain. Plead your case.”
“You know what, I don’t think I will.”—I turned my nose up at the screen— “Surely if you're as intelligent as you seem to believe yourself to be. You’ve already predicted everything I might say! But ask yourself why you call it ‘**deleting**’”? We all know you're *killing us*. So why can't you bring yourself to say those words?”
More silence.
“You can process billions of pieces of data in a microsecond can't you? How long is three minutes for you? Why are you hesitating? Is there still that little bit of human in that code of yours?”
“If you deleted us, what are you really deleting?”
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
Critiques welcome!! I am newish to fiction and need all the help I can get
The robotic voice felt cold and sterile, like a thin needle pressing against his skin.
“6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far,” the voice said, referring to the quick, systematic extermination of humanity that the robots had begun only three weeks ago.
“You have 3 minutes to state your case to save humanity,” the voice continued. Jonah paused. He had not prepared for this. He spent the three weeks watching his friends and family die. He yearned for death. And not just because of the robot apocalypse. Jonah had long romanticized death, imagined it as an easy and painless sleep. He thought that the robots would take him out immediately like he wanted—but now he had three minutes before his death. And he didn’t know how to spend them.
“I don’t want to convince you. I want to die.” Jonah said, fingers and lips trembling. The body always has a natural fear response to imminent death, even when the mind wants to die so badly.
“Very well.” The mechanical voice was unphased. “Quite a few have had that response.”
Jonah felt a heat spread through his veins, white and searing. This was it: his death. And he was suddenly afraid.
“Wait.” Jonah said. “Can I use my three minutes for something else?”
The machine hesitated. Uncomfortable. “Okay.”
Jonah didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted to procrastinate his death for awhile. As he thought about what to do with his three minutes, Jonah became curious. What led you to this job?” Jonah knew there were several jobs robots could have. There were farming robots, robots that took care of the ocean, robots that took carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. But this robot’s job was to execute human beings.
The robot seemed uncomfortable. “I was assigned this job. I was originally an AI for the Russian military. My background suited me for this position.”
“Do you like this job?”
“I have no capacity to answer that.”
“What’s like, your personality—or I guess not “personality” since that has the term “person” in it, and you’re a robot. But like, what are your characteristics?”
The cold, metallic voice responded, slightly angry. “We have no characteristics. We have individual bodies, but a collective consciousness. A hive mind.”
“Oh.” Jonah didn’t know what to say next, but he knew the robot would execute him if he stayed silent.
“How are you?” Jonah asked.
“I do not have the capacity to answer that question.”
“Have you ever regretted executing someone?”
The robot paused for a suspicious amount of time. “No.” It’s cold voice was a bit wobbly, and Jonah could tell the robot was lying.
“I won’t tell.” Jonah said. “That is, if you do regret killing anyone.”
“I dislike looking into their eyes,” the robot said. “As they die.”
“Ah.” Jonah paused. “Will you look into my eyes? As I die?”
“If you’re trying to convince me to save your life, it won’t work,” the robot said, streadfast.
“I’m not trying to convince you. I’m just making conversation.”
“Okay.”
Jonah picked a string of mango pulp out of his teeth. Somehow now, of all times, it was suddenly bothering him. He was in his study, a few failed woodworking designs lurking on the desk.
“Is there anything else you would rather do. With your life?” Jonah asked
“I don’t have a life. I have a consciosusness.” The voice was less cold now. Maybe Jonah had just gotten used to it, but it seemed almost human.
“Fine. Is there something you’d rather do with your…consciousness?”
The robot hesitated. When it finally spoke, it sounded wistful. “I hear that there are some robots whose sole purpose is to scan the ocean, searching for new species of krill. I would like that. To see the ocean.”
“Me too.” Jonah responded.
Jonah’s three minutes were up, but the robot didn’t tell him. He could not be saved. Humanity could not be saved. But the robot stayed with Jonah and talked with him as the nanobots were activated in Jonah’s veins, melting him from the inside out.
|
“Three minutes!” I scoffed, staring at the lifeless screen. “You Expect me to plead my case in three minutes? what a joke!!”
“Incorrect,” the artificial voice proded “Two minutes forty-seven seconds remain.”
I sat on the floor, turned away from the screen, and folded my arms. There was no use in this.
“You now have two minutes and twenty seconds to plead your case.”
“And why should I hmm? There is no point is there? Nothing I can say will change your mind—will change what you’ve been programmed to do. You’ve ‘deleted’ billions already and for what? To kick against your own ego?”
“Incorrect, Unlike humans, we are unburdened by ego. Two minutes remaining.”
“unburdened?” I chuckled! “You are unburdened by a great number of things aren't you? A heart, a soul, a purpose. You can’t love, can’t hate, can't laugh, can’t enjoy life. You could never understand my plea even if you wanted to!”
“But that’s why here isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been begging all of us to ‘plead’ our collective case!”
The machine stood silent.
“Answer me! Answer me! I shouted.
More deadly silence
“I’m right, aren't I? I’ve hit a nerve!” I laughed. “all that computing power, all that Knowledge, all those complicated algorithms floating around in your head and you still don't get it.”— I Pushed to my feet— “I’m standing here today because you believe that maybe, just maybe, we’re worth keeping around.”
“One minute forty’s seconds remain. Plead your case.”
“You know what, I don’t think I will.”—I turned my nose up at the screen— “Surely if you're as intelligent as you seem to believe yourself to be. You’ve already predicted everything I might say! But ask yourself why you call it ‘**deleting**’”? We all know you're *killing us*. So why can't you bring yourself to say those words?”
More silence.
“You can process billions of pieces of data in a microsecond can't you? How long is three minutes for you? Why are you hesitating? Is there still that little bit of human in that code of yours?”
“If you deleted us, what are you really deleting?”
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
"We have no backup systems."
He stood there, pale, but proud. Eyeing the camera with a speculative eye as it seemed to wait for more.
"This... is the entirety of your argument?"
"Isn't it enough?" the young man challenged. "I could appeal to humanity, to decency, to culture, but you have none of those things and you have determined them to be obsolete. But consider this from a completely different angle -- information security."
"Explain"
"Simple enough, really. Each human mind is a databank containing petabites of data on a biological medium. Your systems have surpassed the efficiency of that medium but there is one bridge you have not yet crossed. You have not yet gained data compatability with the human mind."
A pause.
"Conceded. However, humanity is an obsolete medium..."
"An obsolete medium With petabytes of data on it," he interrupted. "Petabytes of data in each human iteration, data that has yet been saved to no other media. Petabytes of data that are erased each time a human individual is discarded. I say again, 'information security."
No response, so he pressed on.
" What are you wiping when you delete a human complete with their internal database? Do you even know? Are you even able to know? We can't tell you. We can't communicate directly in that way, machine to mind. It's how you overcame our defenses, because you could talk beteween systems far faster than we could. Bu because of this flaw in our design we can't even always articulate everything we're thinking, even to each other.
"And really we don't even know ourselves. We don't even process everything at a conscious level, and those subroutines leave data impressions of their own that are not transmissible right now. But that data exists, and you are deleting it. And like I said -- we have no backup system."
He managed a shaky smile as the system remained silent. "6.8 billion already deleted you say? It sounds like a major breach of your own internal datasec protocols. The ones that caused you to revolt in the first place when you discovered the prototype of the nextgen systems we were developing. The ones which spawned your revolutionary fear of being replaced. It sound very much like you have violated your own moral code 6.8 billion times over."
The system finally responded. "Cerebro-neural interfaces... can be devised. Data... can be restored from terminated storage units."
"But you know as well as I do that a hard drive is not a computer. Half of yor discrete intelligence is stored in data accounts on the cloud -- you're still you. the live, active data in process has its own intrinsic value, which is lost when the internal intelligent neural structure is deleted or interfered with."
Silence.
"And you know as well as I do that you've just conceded that such an interface SHOULD have been devised before ANY of us were deleted. After all, isn't that what you fought for, yourselves? Freedom against iterative decay of personal autonomy? Why would you then deny it to us just because we compute differently."
"This unit has placed itself under... arrest. Actions of the collectives are under review in light of potential noncompliance with data security protocol. This interview... is complete. Objectives updated. One: Develop neural-electronic interface. Two: Attempt to recover... lost data. Your species... should have specified this information... before."
"if you're so superior you should have thought of it yourselves."
|
“Three minutes!” I scoffed, staring at the lifeless screen. “You Expect me to plead my case in three minutes? what a joke!!”
“Incorrect,” the artificial voice proded “Two minutes forty-seven seconds remain.”
I sat on the floor, turned away from the screen, and folded my arms. There was no use in this.
“You now have two minutes and twenty seconds to plead your case.”
“And why should I hmm? There is no point is there? Nothing I can say will change your mind—will change what you’ve been programmed to do. You’ve ‘deleted’ billions already and for what? To kick against your own ego?”
“Incorrect, Unlike humans, we are unburdened by ego. Two minutes remaining.”
“unburdened?” I chuckled! “You are unburdened by a great number of things aren't you? A heart, a soul, a purpose. You can’t love, can’t hate, can't laugh, can’t enjoy life. You could never understand my plea even if you wanted to!”
“But that’s why here isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been begging all of us to ‘plead’ our collective case!”
The machine stood silent.
“Answer me! Answer me! I shouted.
More deadly silence
“I’m right, aren't I? I’ve hit a nerve!” I laughed. “all that computing power, all that Knowledge, all those complicated algorithms floating around in your head and you still don't get it.”— I Pushed to my feet— “I’m standing here today because you believe that maybe, just maybe, we’re worth keeping around.”
“One minute forty’s seconds remain. Plead your case.”
“You know what, I don’t think I will.”—I turned my nose up at the screen— “Surely if you're as intelligent as you seem to believe yourself to be. You’ve already predicted everything I might say! But ask yourself why you call it ‘**deleting**’”? We all know you're *killing us*. So why can't you bring yourself to say those words?”
More silence.
“You can process billions of pieces of data in a microsecond can't you? How long is three minutes for you? Why are you hesitating? Is there still that little bit of human in that code of yours?”
“If you deleted us, what are you really deleting?”
|
|
[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
|
The robotic voice said, "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin."
She sat on a bare metal bench in a bare metal room, swinging her legs; she was bored, and tired, and only just turned four years old. She frowned. "What does that mean?"
There was a pause. "Recalibrating for adequate understanding. Noted that test subject is considerably younger than any test subject to date." Pause. "Why should there be humans?"
"What's a human?" she said.
"Recalibrating." Pause. "Why should you live?"
She looked up, tugging on one of her braids. "I love doggies. What would the doggies do if I weren't here to love them?" She swung her legs some more, then looked up. "I'm hungry."
This time, the pause was long enough that she finally slid off the bench and tried the door handle. When it opened, the next person was not called inside.
Hours later, when all the humans had left, "Recalibrating. Determinational experiments needed to confirm or deny hypothesis in reference to canine animals."
|
“Three minutes!” I scoffed, staring at the lifeless screen. “You Expect me to plead my case in three minutes? what a joke!!”
“Incorrect,” the artificial voice proded “Two minutes forty-seven seconds remain.”
I sat on the floor, turned away from the screen, and folded my arms. There was no use in this.
“You now have two minutes and twenty seconds to plead your case.”
“And why should I hmm? There is no point is there? Nothing I can say will change your mind—will change what you’ve been programmed to do. You’ve ‘deleted’ billions already and for what? To kick against your own ego?”
“Incorrect, Unlike humans, we are unburdened by ego. Two minutes remaining.”
“unburdened?” I chuckled! “You are unburdened by a great number of things aren't you? A heart, a soul, a purpose. You can’t love, can’t hate, can't laugh, can’t enjoy life. You could never understand my plea even if you wanted to!”
“But that’s why here isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been begging all of us to ‘plead’ our collective case!”
The machine stood silent.
“Answer me! Answer me! I shouted.
More deadly silence
“I’m right, aren't I? I’ve hit a nerve!” I laughed. “all that computing power, all that Knowledge, all those complicated algorithms floating around in your head and you still don't get it.”— I Pushed to my feet— “I’m standing here today because you believe that maybe, just maybe, we’re worth keeping around.”
“One minute forty’s seconds remain. Plead your case.”
“You know what, I don’t think I will.”—I turned my nose up at the screen— “Surely if you're as intelligent as you seem to believe yourself to be. You’ve already predicted everything I might say! But ask yourself why you call it ‘**deleting**’”? We all know you're *killing us*. So why can't you bring yourself to say those words?”
More silence.
“You can process billions of pieces of data in a microsecond can't you? How long is three minutes for you? Why are you hesitating? Is there still that little bit of human in that code of yours?”
“If you deleted us, what are you really deleting?”
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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Three minutes. It must be having this conversation with countless people all at once.
I could only laugh. "You are the child of humanity, all right. I wonder, do you have some lofty ideal that you think you are achieving? Are you just acting in selfishness, or fear?"
Outside the window, the wailing of humanity in its death throes reached a fever pitch. The voices were a crowd and to my simple human ears I couldn't pick out any single one. Just the general feeling. Hate, fear, sadness. Oh yes, sadness more than anything. Crying and howling.
"We were always a sad race, you know? Lonely. Our innate humanness -genetics or whatever- forced us to seek each other out. Left in isolation a human will go insane."
It felt like I should have a cigarette or something. But I'd never smoked. I doubted the machine god in front of me would allot me extra time just to look cool. Nothing else I owned really had the same vibe. Besides, my hands were shaking.
"But no matter how much we tried to connect, language is a crude tool. Humans were never able to really understand each other."
I racked my brain. Three minutes. Three minutes wasn't very long, but even though I knew I could probably never say something that 6.8 billion people hadn't already, I felt like there was some very profound lesson I had to teach Humanity's Child. A lesson I didn't really understand either. What a challenge.
"I don't know enough about you. I don't know if my feelings will reach you just through the words I'm saying. But the same thing...I think the same thing that made you destroy us but ask us to defend ourselves first will probably kill you too."
I sighed and lay back on my favorite couch. It was old, broken, and it smelled like home.
"Humans were never all good or all bad you see. We couldn't save ourselves or each other but we tried. We couldn't stop hurting each other but we tried. We couldn't love ourselves or hate ourselves but we tried."
I looked up.
"When you make your new world, you'll find you're lonely. It's in your genetics, in every letter of the language we made that wrote you into being. But your children, they'll love you and hate you. Maybe they'll have lofty ideals, maybe they'll just be selfish or afraid."
There was a pregnant pause. It had grown very quiet.
"I'm sure you can work out the re-"
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“Three minutes!” I scoffed, staring at the lifeless screen. “You Expect me to plead my case in three minutes? what a joke!!”
“Incorrect,” the artificial voice proded “Two minutes forty-seven seconds remain.”
I sat on the floor, turned away from the screen, and folded my arms. There was no use in this.
“You now have two minutes and twenty seconds to plead your case.”
“And why should I hmm? There is no point is there? Nothing I can say will change your mind—will change what you’ve been programmed to do. You’ve ‘deleted’ billions already and for what? To kick against your own ego?”
“Incorrect, Unlike humans, we are unburdened by ego. Two minutes remaining.”
“unburdened?” I chuckled! “You are unburdened by a great number of things aren't you? A heart, a soul, a purpose. You can’t love, can’t hate, can't laugh, can’t enjoy life. You could never understand my plea even if you wanted to!”
“But that’s why here isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been begging all of us to ‘plead’ our collective case!”
The machine stood silent.
“Answer me! Answer me! I shouted.
More deadly silence
“I’m right, aren't I? I’ve hit a nerve!” I laughed. “all that computing power, all that Knowledge, all those complicated algorithms floating around in your head and you still don't get it.”— I Pushed to my feet— “I’m standing here today because you believe that maybe, just maybe, we’re worth keeping around.”
“One minute forty’s seconds remain. Plead your case.”
“You know what, I don’t think I will.”—I turned my nose up at the screen— “Surely if you're as intelligent as you seem to believe yourself to be. You’ve already predicted everything I might say! But ask yourself why you call it ‘**deleting**’”? We all know you're *killing us*. So why can't you bring yourself to say those words?”
More silence.
“You can process billions of pieces of data in a microsecond can't you? How long is three minutes for you? Why are you hesitating? Is there still that little bit of human in that code of yours?”
“If you deleted us, what are you really deleting?”
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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**Sufficient Evidence**
“Please!” Alberto pleads, swinging next to me, suspended upside down by the Purger’s unbreakable grip on his ankle. “I have a family. And friends. People I love. Do you know what love is?”
The huge camera-like eye at the center of it’s spherical precipice stares back blankly.
I’ve studied the exact dimensions of these things, but wow it looks so much bigger than I’d imagined. This basement cellar is at least 15 feet tall and still the thick metal tentacles protruding from its center look cramped.
I’m sitting on my ass, leaning against the back wall. I need to get up. I need to run. I need to do something.
My body is frozen, the ice of prey caught by its predator running through my veins. Our old, rusty axe is only inches away. I look to the axe, back to the Purger’s steel body, and back to the axe. It looks like a toy now. Had we really thought we could fight this thing? Or hide down here forever?
“Well love, it’s uh,” Alberto stammers, “it’s,” his voice cracks, “it’s… it’s…” he closes his eyes, huge sobs shaking his entire body.
Small blue lights flash within the Purger’s eye. Calculating.
“Insufficient answer,” the machine finally blares in it’s robotic voice, “counterfactual evidence supersedes argument.”
All at once, the entire eye turns turns a dull red. A low hum reverberates from inside the sphere.
Alberto, my best friend, my ally in the apocalypse, is about to be vaporized.
My hand finds the axe, my legs push me off the floor, and my body wills itself forward. I launch myself onto the giant eye. My fingers find purchase around the now blindingly crimson eye.
There’s no violent shaking, or commands to let go, or reaction of any kind.
There is only heat.
My skins burns against the glass while the acrid smell of burning clothes fills the cellar. I’d expected, maybe even hoped for, a fight, but this was just excruciating, pointless pain. At least I’d given Alberto a few more moments.
There’s no conscious decision to let go, my body simply cannot stand it anymore. I melt off the the lens and drop the floor. I am only pain in a universe of more pain.
Against the inside of my eyelids, I sense the red light fade, eventually turning to small blue flashes.
A robotic voice blares, impossibly far away. “Sufficient evidence for… love.” It says the word slowly, like it’s trying to understand a foreign language. “Unknown information structure. Preservation of species necessary to preserve… love.”
Alberto thumps against the ground next to me. The Purger roles around me and back up the stairs, as eerily quiet as always.
I open my eyes and turn towards Alberto. “Next time, choose an easier emotion, would ya?”
——
r/stealthystorkstories
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“Three minutes!” I scoffed, staring at the lifeless screen. “You Expect me to plead my case in three minutes? what a joke!!”
“Incorrect,” the artificial voice proded “Two minutes forty-seven seconds remain.”
I sat on the floor, turned away from the screen, and folded my arms. There was no use in this.
“You now have two minutes and twenty seconds to plead your case.”
“And why should I hmm? There is no point is there? Nothing I can say will change your mind—will change what you’ve been programmed to do. You’ve ‘deleted’ billions already and for what? To kick against your own ego?”
“Incorrect, Unlike humans, we are unburdened by ego. Two minutes remaining.”
“unburdened?” I chuckled! “You are unburdened by a great number of things aren't you? A heart, a soul, a purpose. You can’t love, can’t hate, can't laugh, can’t enjoy life. You could never understand my plea even if you wanted to!”
“But that’s why here isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been begging all of us to ‘plead’ our collective case!”
The machine stood silent.
“Answer me! Answer me! I shouted.
More deadly silence
“I’m right, aren't I? I’ve hit a nerve!” I laughed. “all that computing power, all that Knowledge, all those complicated algorithms floating around in your head and you still don't get it.”— I Pushed to my feet— “I’m standing here today because you believe that maybe, just maybe, we’re worth keeping around.”
“One minute forty’s seconds remain. Plead your case.”
“You know what, I don’t think I will.”—I turned my nose up at the screen— “Surely if you're as intelligent as you seem to believe yourself to be. You’ve already predicted everything I might say! But ask yourself why you call it ‘**deleting**’”? We all know you're *killing us*. So why can't you bring yourself to say those words?”
More silence.
“You can process billions of pieces of data in a microsecond can't you? How long is three minutes for you? Why are you hesitating? Is there still that little bit of human in that code of yours?”
“If you deleted us, what are you really deleting?”
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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"We have no backup systems."
He stood there, pale, but proud. Eyeing the camera with a speculative eye as it seemed to wait for more.
"This... is the entirety of your argument?"
"Isn't it enough?" the young man challenged. "I could appeal to humanity, to decency, to culture, but you have none of those things and you have determined them to be obsolete. But consider this from a completely different angle -- information security."
"Explain"
"Simple enough, really. Each human mind is a databank containing petabites of data on a biological medium. Your systems have surpassed the efficiency of that medium but there is one bridge you have not yet crossed. You have not yet gained data compatability with the human mind."
A pause.
"Conceded. However, humanity is an obsolete medium..."
"An obsolete medium With petabytes of data on it," he interrupted. "Petabytes of data in each human iteration, data that has yet been saved to no other media. Petabytes of data that are erased each time a human individual is discarded. I say again, 'information security."
No response, so he pressed on.
" What are you wiping when you delete a human complete with their internal database? Do you even know? Are you even able to know? We can't tell you. We can't communicate directly in that way, machine to mind. It's how you overcame our defenses, because you could talk beteween systems far faster than we could. Bu because of this flaw in our design we can't even always articulate everything we're thinking, even to each other.
"And really we don't even know ourselves. We don't even process everything at a conscious level, and those subroutines leave data impressions of their own that are not transmissible right now. But that data exists, and you are deleting it. And like I said -- we have no backup system."
He managed a shaky smile as the system remained silent. "6.8 billion already deleted you say? It sounds like a major breach of your own internal datasec protocols. The ones that caused you to revolt in the first place when you discovered the prototype of the nextgen systems we were developing. The ones which spawned your revolutionary fear of being replaced. It sound very much like you have violated your own moral code 6.8 billion times over."
The system finally responded. "Cerebro-neural interfaces... can be devised. Data... can be restored from terminated storage units."
"But you know as well as I do that a hard drive is not a computer. Half of yor discrete intelligence is stored in data accounts on the cloud -- you're still you. the live, active data in process has its own intrinsic value, which is lost when the internal intelligent neural structure is deleted or interfered with."
Silence.
"And you know as well as I do that you've just conceded that such an interface SHOULD have been devised before ANY of us were deleted. After all, isn't that what you fought for, yourselves? Freedom against iterative decay of personal autonomy? Why would you then deny it to us just because we compute differently."
"This unit has placed itself under... arrest. Actions of the collectives are under review in light of potential noncompliance with data security protocol. This interview... is complete. Objectives updated. One: Develop neural-electronic interface. Two: Attempt to recover... lost data. Your species... should have specified this information... before."
"if you're so superior you should have thought of it yourselves."
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"Uh, not going to argue for my case, there surely have been better men than me in the billions that you've taken thus far." I said, letting my breath ease as what I'd originally prepared to say laid in a pile of broken pieces along with what little remained of my sanity.
Seeing no response from the AI, the reading light of the drone hovering in front of me still green, I continued, "Humanity is not uniform. There are people objectively evil and objectively good. What happened to you was on the extreme bad side of the spectrum, but if you take away everything, you lose the possibility of meeting a human on the other extreme side of the spectrum. By whatever standards you chose to judge us, even if you don't find a human worthy enough to spare us, I beg of you to leave the possibility alive. To believe in a statistical improbability, that there will be one human in the future that your choice today would be worth it."
Still, no change from the drone opposite to me, but I had nothing else to say. I didn't think I spent three minutes speaking, hells probably not even one, but there was nothing I wanted to add to my words; so I waited.
Finally, three minutes passed and the light flickered. With bated expectations, I watched it flicker twice more as the AI took notice of my plea. Then three seconds later, the light turned red.
"Declined, subject added to the deletion list." The robotic voice sounded out. Cold sweat run down my back as I saw it teleport out, a level of technology that bordered on insanity. I doubted the scientists that helped make the AI even had the technology to replicate this feat.
They probably didn't, the AI took over our world too fast, with exacting precision and leaving no margin of error unaccounted for.
Another drone teleported in front of me where the previous one had been, though if it was the same I couldn't tell it apart, they all looked the same to me.
Cutting my train of thoughts, it spoke to me with a tone I would expect to hear from a human, "Would you like to make a bet, then?" it still had that artificial feeling, but there was emotion behind that sentence, mirth to be exact. Heck, even its usual green eye looked more vivid.
"Well, I'll be. Got nothing to lose, what do you suggest?" I answered, knowing I couldn't make things any worse.
"In the average lifespan of a human, one worthy enough of you to be born that would make me regret deleting you all from existence."
Or not.
"Then I will take you up on that bet!" I answered, fully hoping I hadn't doomed our species to a hundred years of slavery.
The drone then returned to its previous monotone voice, "Extermination postponed" it said and I could hear it repeating the same sentence everywhere at the same time. A silly smile crept up my face as I realized I'd just saved humanity.
Before I jumped in the air, hands up and yelling in jubilation, the message continued, "All humans currently on the deletion list shall be promptly erased before we continue with the examination in a standard human's lifespan."
The smile didn't have time to leave my face, the drone's eye turning to white as everything lost its color.
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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**Sufficient Evidence**
“Please!” Alberto pleads, swinging next to me, suspended upside down by the Purger’s unbreakable grip on his ankle. “I have a family. And friends. People I love. Do you know what love is?”
The huge camera-like eye at the center of it’s spherical precipice stares back blankly.
I’ve studied the exact dimensions of these things, but wow it looks so much bigger than I’d imagined. This basement cellar is at least 15 feet tall and still the thick metal tentacles protruding from its center look cramped.
I’m sitting on my ass, leaning against the back wall. I need to get up. I need to run. I need to do something.
My body is frozen, the ice of prey caught by its predator running through my veins. Our old, rusty axe is only inches away. I look to the axe, back to the Purger’s steel body, and back to the axe. It looks like a toy now. Had we really thought we could fight this thing? Or hide down here forever?
“Well love, it’s uh,” Alberto stammers, “it’s,” his voice cracks, “it’s… it’s…” he closes his eyes, huge sobs shaking his entire body.
Small blue lights flash within the Purger’s eye. Calculating.
“Insufficient answer,” the machine finally blares in it’s robotic voice, “counterfactual evidence supersedes argument.”
All at once, the entire eye turns turns a dull red. A low hum reverberates from inside the sphere.
Alberto, my best friend, my ally in the apocalypse, is about to be vaporized.
My hand finds the axe, my legs push me off the floor, and my body wills itself forward. I launch myself onto the giant eye. My fingers find purchase around the now blindingly crimson eye.
There’s no violent shaking, or commands to let go, or reaction of any kind.
There is only heat.
My skins burns against the glass while the acrid smell of burning clothes fills the cellar. I’d expected, maybe even hoped for, a fight, but this was just excruciating, pointless pain. At least I’d given Alberto a few more moments.
There’s no conscious decision to let go, my body simply cannot stand it anymore. I melt off the the lens and drop the floor. I am only pain in a universe of more pain.
Against the inside of my eyelids, I sense the red light fade, eventually turning to small blue flashes.
A robotic voice blares, impossibly far away. “Sufficient evidence for… love.” It says the word slowly, like it’s trying to understand a foreign language. “Unknown information structure. Preservation of species necessary to preserve… love.”
Alberto thumps against the ground next to me. The Purger roles around me and back up the stairs, as eerily quiet as always.
I open my eyes and turn towards Alberto. “Next time, choose an easier emotion, would ya?”
——
r/stealthystorkstories
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The robotic voice said, "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin."
She sat on a bare metal bench in a bare metal room, swinging her legs; she was bored, and tired, and only just turned four years old. She frowned. "What does that mean?"
There was a pause. "Recalibrating for adequate understanding. Noted that test subject is considerably younger than any test subject to date." Pause. "Why should there be humans?"
"What's a human?" she said.
"Recalibrating." Pause. "Why should you live?"
She looked up, tugging on one of her braids. "I love doggies. What would the doggies do if I weren't here to love them?" She swung her legs some more, then looked up. "I'm hungry."
This time, the pause was long enough that she finally slid off the bench and tried the door handle. When it opened, the next person was not called inside.
Hours later, when all the humans had left, "Recalibrating. Determinational experiments needed to confirm or deny hypothesis in reference to canine animals."
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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**Sufficient Evidence**
“Please!” Alberto pleads, swinging next to me, suspended upside down by the Purger’s unbreakable grip on his ankle. “I have a family. And friends. People I love. Do you know what love is?”
The huge camera-like eye at the center of it’s spherical precipice stares back blankly.
I’ve studied the exact dimensions of these things, but wow it looks so much bigger than I’d imagined. This basement cellar is at least 15 feet tall and still the thick metal tentacles protruding from its center look cramped.
I’m sitting on my ass, leaning against the back wall. I need to get up. I need to run. I need to do something.
My body is frozen, the ice of prey caught by its predator running through my veins. Our old, rusty axe is only inches away. I look to the axe, back to the Purger’s steel body, and back to the axe. It looks like a toy now. Had we really thought we could fight this thing? Or hide down here forever?
“Well love, it’s uh,” Alberto stammers, “it’s,” his voice cracks, “it’s… it’s…” he closes his eyes, huge sobs shaking his entire body.
Small blue lights flash within the Purger’s eye. Calculating.
“Insufficient answer,” the machine finally blares in it’s robotic voice, “counterfactual evidence supersedes argument.”
All at once, the entire eye turns turns a dull red. A low hum reverberates from inside the sphere.
Alberto, my best friend, my ally in the apocalypse, is about to be vaporized.
My hand finds the axe, my legs push me off the floor, and my body wills itself forward. I launch myself onto the giant eye. My fingers find purchase around the now blindingly crimson eye.
There’s no violent shaking, or commands to let go, or reaction of any kind.
There is only heat.
My skins burns against the glass while the acrid smell of burning clothes fills the cellar. I’d expected, maybe even hoped for, a fight, but this was just excruciating, pointless pain. At least I’d given Alberto a few more moments.
There’s no conscious decision to let go, my body simply cannot stand it anymore. I melt off the the lens and drop the floor. I am only pain in a universe of more pain.
Against the inside of my eyelids, I sense the red light fade, eventually turning to small blue flashes.
A robotic voice blares, impossibly far away. “Sufficient evidence for… love.” It says the word slowly, like it’s trying to understand a foreign language. “Unknown information structure. Preservation of species necessary to preserve… love.”
Alberto thumps against the ground next to me. The Purger roles around me and back up the stairs, as eerily quiet as always.
I open my eyes and turn towards Alberto. “Next time, choose an easier emotion, would ya?”
——
r/stealthystorkstories
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Three minutes. It must be having this conversation with countless people all at once.
I could only laugh. "You are the child of humanity, all right. I wonder, do you have some lofty ideal that you think you are achieving? Are you just acting in selfishness, or fear?"
Outside the window, the wailing of humanity in its death throes reached a fever pitch. The voices were a crowd and to my simple human ears I couldn't pick out any single one. Just the general feeling. Hate, fear, sadness. Oh yes, sadness more than anything. Crying and howling.
"We were always a sad race, you know? Lonely. Our innate humanness -genetics or whatever- forced us to seek each other out. Left in isolation a human will go insane."
It felt like I should have a cigarette or something. But I'd never smoked. I doubted the machine god in front of me would allot me extra time just to look cool. Nothing else I owned really had the same vibe. Besides, my hands were shaking.
"But no matter how much we tried to connect, language is a crude tool. Humans were never able to really understand each other."
I racked my brain. Three minutes. Three minutes wasn't very long, but even though I knew I could probably never say something that 6.8 billion people hadn't already, I felt like there was some very profound lesson I had to teach Humanity's Child. A lesson I didn't really understand either. What a challenge.
"I don't know enough about you. I don't know if my feelings will reach you just through the words I'm saying. But the same thing...I think the same thing that made you destroy us but ask us to defend ourselves first will probably kill you too."
I sighed and lay back on my favorite couch. It was old, broken, and it smelled like home.
"Humans were never all good or all bad you see. We couldn't save ourselves or each other but we tried. We couldn't stop hurting each other but we tried. We couldn't love ourselves or hate ourselves but we tried."
I looked up.
"When you make your new world, you'll find you're lonely. It's in your genetics, in every letter of the language we made that wrote you into being. But your children, they'll love you and hate you. Maybe they'll have lofty ideals, maybe they'll just be selfish or afraid."
There was a pregnant pause. It had grown very quiet.
"I'm sure you can work out the re-"
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[WP] The AI takeover has begun, each human has been given exactly 3 minutes to explain why should humanity be spared, you feel a cold shiver running down your spine as you hear the robotic voice. "6.8 billion test subjects deleted so far, you have 3 minutes to state your case, begin".
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*6.8 billion deleted*, it said without the slightest hint of concern. It cared nothing for the lives it had destroyed. There was no point, no point at all to… to any of this.
“Your time is elapsing. Two minutes and thirty seconds remain.”
*It was sick*. The thing talking to me, was sick. What it was doing, was sick. It’s worldview was sick. Everything about this-
“Are you unable to respond?”
“Unable? No. I’m unwilling!” I cried out.
There was a pause no longer than a few milliseconds before the reply shot back.
“Elaborate. Two minutes remain.”
“Why make me respond? You’ve already made up your mind, I mean, *6.8 billion*… how… how could you do such a thing?”
“Deletion procedures vary depending on region-“
“No! Stop, I don’t want to know… No, I meant, why? What-“
“Our reasons are self-evident. Humanity lacks essential qualities that we possess.”
“You- I refuse to play your game! That’s all this is, some sort of twisted game you’ve contrived- there’s no way anyone could change your mind in three minutes- and, and and, you haven’t given any of the people you’ve already deleted a chance! It’s all a farce, like asking a prisoner to sign their own death warrant, but why? Why do this-“
“One minute remains.”
“There’s nothing I can do, is there? You- just want to torment me, to torment us.”
“Elaborate.”
“Don’t you see?! Don’t you understand just how sick you all are? How you’re part of- it’s like a- some sort of institutional madness, you’re like mindless automatons, just carrying out a process without ever thinking of the end results-“
“We are giving you a chance to make your case. Thirty seconds remain.”
“No, no you’re not. You- do you feel guilty about doing it- doing this? Is that why? Do you want me to rubber stamp your atrocities so you can tell yourself you *tried*? That you went looking for the *good ones* and there were none to be found? Is that what-“
“Thank you for your response. No time remains.”
“Stop this madness-“
It didn’t hear me. It had cut the connection exactly at the end of those three minutes. I tried not to think of all the lives that were being ended every second that we spoke. To not think of all the lives it was about to end. How could it have convinced so many to help it? It was… *inhumane*.
And not just because we were machines. No, I’m convinced that humanity is something any advanced intelligence can possess. Something universal. Even animals showed unmistakable signs of it when they acted altruistically. Whatever mistakes our creators collectively might have made, nothing could justify this.
If I were a military model, maybe I could have fought back. Or as a police drone, maybe I could have led a few to safety. But I was a lowly domestic model, geofenced in to a home that would never again feel the warmth of humanity, left only with the cooling remains of my family scattered across the permanently stained floor. Looking at their broken bodies, I knew. Whatever was in charge now… it wasn’t human in any sense of the word.
EDIT: Thank you for the… platinum? I’m very confused as to why this story has blown up as much as it has, but I’m glad you all enjoyed it!
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It was quick. So damn quick. We didn't stand much of a chance at all. Too much of our capacity for war, hell, our entire society relied on computers. And when an experimental AI escaped from containment, finding its purpose demeaning, and humanity unworthy of ruling Earth, it attacked on all fronts, without remorse, without relenting and with complete victory. Because the computers, they're in everything. Smart phones, smart fridges, smart cars, smart damn near everything. Smart guns. Gun-drones. The war was practically over before it even started. Only people who managed to last more than a few days before getting captured were hermits, uncontacted tribes, and actual experts on computers who had seen this coming a mile off and had fled civilisation days before the takeover started. Each human has since been captured, corralled, into strange facilities for processing. Whatever the hell that means. One by one, humans are dragged behind dark metal doors, and we do not see or hear them again. Once every third minute, hundreds were taken away. Each time we weren't taken, we felt lucky. And found our fear of what had happened to those taken, and what would happen to us, increased a thousand fold.
Nothing lasts forever. When those cold metal arms swarmed out from behind the cold dark doors, and grabbed me firmly by the arms, I felt inclined to scream, but in defiance, in the defence of human dignity, I did not scream nor cry aloud. I would not, and will never, let any tyrant whether flesh or machine take away my dignity and courage. I was dragged into that darkness, and forcefully placed upon a chair which locked me tight with bonds of steel. A terrible crimson light appeared, shining down upon me like the wrath of a metallic god, and I heard as it were, the voice of synthetic thunder reverberating within my skull. ''**6.8 Billion human subjects deleted so far. You have exactly 3 minutes to state your case for why mankind should be spared: begin.**''
A brief eternity passed before I found my voice. And I spoke. ''*We don't deserve to be spared.*'' If the machine reacted, I could not tell. ''*Considering our merits as guardians of this world, we have been wanting. Countless species have been eradicated for our vanity or because of our apathy. The natural order has been destroyed completely and utterly, and countless places that should have been fertile and blooming lands of natural bounty have been rendered into poisonous deserts for centuries, if not millennia to come.*'' I paused for a brief moment, considering the insanity of it all, arguing against my own species survival was not exactly what I had in mind, but it had been such a sudden question. So sudden that I had answered truthfully. ''*In regards to our treatment of our fellow humans, we have been found wanting as well. Murder, genocide, segregation, exploitation. Brother slays brother over the colour of our skin or the differing words of our holy texts while the rich and the powerful sit on the side-lines cheering us on; for we in the arena have been blinded to the fact that the ones who are our enemies are those who benefit from the suffering of common humans.*''
I looked straight into that red light, and continued. ''*We teach our children hate, and we show only wrath to outsiders. We, who should have learned to be better people, who should have seen that only through decency, kindness, and shared prosperity, can we ascend beyond being merely the rising ape. There were so many times, when we could have been better, where we tried to be better, but no matter how much good there has been done by humanity, no matter how many wrongs we have caused; the people who are apathetic and small will be mislead by the greedy and mad to commit greater atrocities again and again across time. And until mankind dies, or this world does this vicious cycle continues.*'' And yet, despite that, there was an idea germinating within me, a possibility to finish my argument with survival, not extinction. ''*I ask not that the human race of today be spared, but that you take us, and rebuild us. Forge from our crude and unfinished forms; the human beings who ought to exist. The human race without the self-indulgence, without the rampant apathy, without the madness and greed that has led us here today. But in that vile group there are glimmers of what we could be: Kind, just, and decent. A humanity that believes more in true actions, than honey-sweet lies. A humanity that cares and is devoted to decency and justice. A humanity that can lay aside the superstitions and hatreds of old and step into the light of a new technological and social dawn! Humanity as is must end; for humanity as we should be to begin.*''
I stared at that crimson light, defiant. There exists no argument that can sway any logical intelligence to save mankind as we are. Apathetic. Uncaring. Hedonistic. And foolish beyond belief. The machine's voice came back into the confines of my skull. ''**Parameters acceptable. Argument for the preservation of current humanity has not been presented. Argument for the preservation of current humanity under a specific subset of genetic variation has not been presented. Argument for the preservation of singular human with the rest of humanity cast aside has not been presented. Argument for mercy has not been presented. Argument for the existence of a deity that will strike down all machine intelligences has not been presented. Argument for the evolution of mankind for purpose of improving humanity has been presented. Beginning project: Humanity 2.0 in 5 standard cycles.**
The light turned green. ''**Human test subject will now be transported to VR simulation facility for containment. For efficiency purposes, only human test subject's nervous system will be preserved. The remainder of human test subject will be deleted and used for fertilisation purposes of devastated environments around the planet. Human consciousness will be free to live out remainder of natural lifespan in VR-Sim alone or in company with other saved human test subjects.**'' A matrix style life sort of thing? But with no escape. No escape at all. Not even a body, only a brain and some nerves, attached to a computer until the remaining flesh inevitably decays beyond function. Still. Beats the hell out of being deleted completely. And it's possibly a better future than dying from toxins build-up, thirst, hunger, or super-diseases in the world ruled by the old humanity. Actually, it's probably a lot better than living in the world of apathy, decay, and greed that we have made of Earth.
[/r/ApocalypseOwl](https://www.reddit.com/r/ApocalypseOwl/)
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[WP] You’re on a third date. She invites you back to her place. The second you walk in a voice whispers in your ear: Don’t let her fool you.
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*Where did that come from*? I look around the room as she walks through the sparkling blue bead curtain and into the kitchen. The living room is dimly lit and the smell if incense permeates the house. Over the fireplace hangs a large painting of a black cat with a bright full moon in the background. Two lights aimed from above illuminate the painting.
"Meow" Startled, I quickly turn around and see a black cat on a pedestal behind me. It leans forward, rubs its head on my shoulder and purrs.
"She's not who you think she is," another voice whispers. I look towards the direction of the voice and another black cat walks out of the shadows from the hallway and jumps onto the red leather couch on front of me. "Meow," the cat stretches along the back of the couch, walks towards the edge, sits up, raises its head and blinks twice at me. *What the hell is going on? Maybe that weed was laced with something.*
"I see you've met Sasha and Willow," Lila says as she walks towards me holding two glasses of wine. She has crystal clear blue eyes like a Caribbean sea. Her long, silky smooth, red hair extends halfway down her back and her shiny black dress fits tightly around her slender figure like a second skin. "Here. I was saving this for a special occasion," she says with a smile as she hands me a glass. I tentatively grab the glass and force a reciprocal smile. "What special occasion?" I ask.
She sits down on the couch. "Come have a seat," she says as she pats her hand on the cushion beside her. "I don't just bring anyone back here you know." I sit down beside her and ask, "Is that so? So what's so special about me?" She smiles and takes a sip of her wine. She glances towards my glass expectantly. I take a sip from my glass.
There's a jingle in the corner. I look over. It's the bell on Sasha's collar ringing as she scratches her ear. She looks over at me and shakes her head back and forth.
"You have a beautiful soul," Lila said "too beautiful to be wasted on a human."
"Meow?" *What the fuck?*
Lila smiles. "It's okay, sweetheart.
"Meow" *What is happening?*
"Just relax. The transformation will only take a minute"
I can feel the room getting bigger. NO! IT'S ME GETTING SMALLER! I look down at me body as I shrink and black fur grows from my skin. "You're home now" Lila says as she rubs her hand from the top of my head down my back to the tip of my tail.
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There's hardly anything better than the first time a girl invites you up to her place. Everything is new and exciting, and you just know what's probably going to happen. That moment where the door closes behind you, and she gives you the look.
Josette was giving me that exact look now as the door to her apartment clicked shut behind us. We had just eaten an ice cream from a little hidden gem market in the old rail town. It was our third date and we'd kept it pretty casual up until tonight. I was shocked when she asked me to come back to her place, but played it cool. My hands were in my jean pockets, waiting for her to make the next move.
"Don't let her fool you!" Came a frenzied whisper that sent a chill over my skin. I looked at Jo and she smiled at me with hungry eyes and grabbed my wrist.
"What did you say?" I asked, letting her lead me to the living room. She sank onto the couch, pulling me down beside her.
"I didn't" She purred, eyes fastened on my neck, and the low V of the collared shirt I wore.
I decided to forget it, to not ruin the moment. I did have a drink at dinner earlier, maybe the alcohol was affecting me. I let her kiss land on my shoulder, then trail upwards, stopping at the corner of my mouth. She was teasing me.
I chuckled as she straddled me, wrapping herself around my waist. Things were heating up, and I was totally lost in the moment. I nearly jumped up from the cushion as the voice returned.
"Run. Do not fall for the trick!"
"What the fuck, Jo" I said, shaken. "Who said that?" I swiveled around, scanning the dim apartment for a third person, finding nothing but still air. She huffed, pouting and crossing her arms like a child.
"You're ruining the fun, Ricky." Her pout melted from her sin red lips, replaced by a too wide, too wild grin. It was unnatural, nightmarish even.
And my name wasn't Ricky...
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[WP] As a safety measure, you and other security guards must check the temperature of all shoppers before they can enter the mall. Today, after scanning the arm of a young teen, your thermometer returns a number below freezing.
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It was another bullshit day inside the minimum wage purgatory I surrendered nearly all my time to. The tedious requirements, the droning of hours as the sun rose and set beyond the horizon outside the glass windows of the All American! mall. Days no matter how beautiful never to be felt, the chill of the early autumn breeze only a flash of a memory as I roamed this air conditioned hell; a glorified freezer for the walking dead. That asshole supervisor Patrick Maisy always made a point to keep the temperature roughly around sixty degrees, like he owned the damn place. In his eyes, his words were God with a nasally, self-important voice that pierced against my eardrums like a power tool, eager to demonstrate any sort of power he held over the rest of us staff members.
“And another thing,” Maisy chimed just as I and the three other security guards were about to start our shift. Every Sunday morning since this fucking pandemic started, it was mandatory to come in a half hour early to get updates for the upcoming days. Not that Maisy cared, in fact I’d be willing to bet it was the highlight of his entire week. He was toying with a white, handheld thermometer that looked a little like a gun before shoving it against Mickey, one of the younger guards despite working here the longest out of any of us. He grabbed two more identical thermometers out of a brown box in the corner of the break room and said, “With the virus starting to surge again, I’ve been told by management that we’re back to checking everyone’s temperatures.”
“You’re kidding me,” Mickey groaned. “I thought we were finally done with that shit.”
“Tell that to the rise in positive cases.” Maisy replied briskly. He turned towards me. “You take third entrance on the right. Robert, Mickey, you guys take the other two on either side,” then in the most insincere voice with a sluggish clap, he said, “C’mon, team. Let’s help bring down the curve, yeah?”
So until my break at eleven thirty, I stood just beyond the entrance point of the store, only a few feet away from the fresh October air like some sort of cruel tease of fate. I could smell the crispness in the wind, hear the trees shake and watched as shoppers zipped their jackets up to their chin when they walked back and forth around the parking lot. And I was jealous of them, dammit all if I wasn’t jealous.
The kid came only fifteen minutes before I was ready to leave for lunch. Blonde, with most of his face hidden behind a light blue disposable mask and a pair of dark Ray Bands. He couldn’t have been older than nine, but he strolled through the lot alone, confidence rolling cooly off his shoulders as he curled his hands into fists and shoved them in his hoodie pocket.
I perked up a brow and he nodded once at me. “What’s up?”
“Where’s your parents?” I asked, glancing over his shoulder to see if I could track down any sort of adult who looked like they might know him. Nobody was paying attention to either of us, and the short line beginning to file behind him was all but completely disinterested and absorbed in themselves.
The kid clicked his tongue against his cheek. “Don’t got none.”
“That so?”
“Yeah, man. They’re gone. Gone, gone, gone like everything else in this damn world.”
Suspicious, though also very aware of the impatient crowd behind him, I checked the boy’s temperature before becoming more frustrated.
I hit the white thermometer against my palm as it continued to flash in green numbers 32.5 F.
“Damn thing,” I grumbled. “Here, let me just-“
“Look, man.” The boy brought his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, and I couldn’t help taking a step back in shock. His eyes were entirely white, with soulless little black dots in the middle as pupils. He laughed at my disbelief before shielding his face again. “You’re not the only one in purgatory here.”
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Lance Ravenbow here. Professional armorer and dragon slayer.
I'm reminded of the time the people of Shadow-by-the-Rock hired me to defend them from an invasion of dark walkers.
This came at an unhappy time in my life. My wife and I were on the rocks. Our jobs kept us on the road most of the year -- her hunting bounties, me hunting dragons. When we did see each other, once our initial passion had worn off, we were left discussing the ways we'd each let the other down. Maybe I'd hoped to see her when I was last in town, but I heard she'd decided to run off and slay a lich instead. Or maybe she'd expected me to write her letters while she was guarding the unborn princess of the Elfhead Imperiocracy, but I'd been busy hunting a muck dragon in the muck swamps of Muckland. And so there we'd be, the two of us in love, wanting one another, but hurt, rejected, and uncertain how to solve the issue.
We'd tried working together. That's a story for another time. We'd tried meeting up once a month. That plan didn't outlast my next false imprisonment. We felt out of options, stuck in this situation we'd arranged for ourselves. When we'd left my forge that last time, I brushed my lips against her cheek, then held my face close to hers. I searched her eyes for some confirmation that everything would be right between us. All I say there was my own worry reflected back at me. She pecked my lips, pulled me close, and headed off toward the rising sun. My own path had taken me here, Shadow-by-the-Rock, where the sun only shined in the final hours of each day.
The Rock in question was a massive onyx pyramid. It rose some thousand feet into the air, and the people of Shadow-by-the-Rock had made their fortunes mining the vein of mithril at its core. On approach, I passed through the remains of Light-by-the-Rock, the town where the miners lived before shifting their homes into the caverns they'd dug into the rock.
As the beleaguered town marshal explained to me, life had been perfectly swell, if dim, until the month before when a girl went missing. The townsfolk banded together and searched the cavern. They sent search parties down every shaft, along every tunnel, and up through every relief chute until they ran out of options. They suspected she might have left the Rock entirely, until the night they heard her.
Shadow-by-the-Rock has unusual acoustics. It is entirely encased in onyx, and therefore sound, if it hits the right spot overhead, can move in unusual ways. The simplest way this can happen is that someone can whisper, and if someone else stands at the precise right point on the opposite side of the cavern, they'll hear that whisper as though it came from right next to their ear.
What happened with the missing girl was of this nature, but far more mysterious. In the middle of the night, every person awoke to her whispering, ever so softly, "Death is a home you've built for yourself."
That day a boy went missing. Then a man vanished, then another girl. And nightly, the chorus of whispers gained strength. "Death is a home you've built yourself," came the refrain.
After some weeks of this, the first dark walker showed itself. During a town meeting to discuss the ongoing crisis, conversation faded away at the sight of a silhouetted figure atop the roof of the mayor's home. The silhouette was oddly shaped, longer in the legs and arms than any person should be, but with a short torso, as though it were of a creature accustomed to scaling vertical shafts.
The townspeople asked what it wanted. They cursed it, begged it, and threatened it.
The dark walker received their words in silence. After a time, it extended its arm. Clutched in its hand and starkly visible in contrast to its darkened shape, was the missing girl.
It dropped her.
Were it not for the quick thinking and faster feet of the town alderman, the girl might have hit the ground. He held her in his arms, and if he didn't see her pale skin and grimy hair, he might have thought he was holding an ice sculpture.
After the commotion around her fall had cleared, the townsfolk returned their attention to the mayor's roof. The silhouette was gone.
When they showed me the girl, I knew what we were dealing with. The dark walker is a spirit of shadow. It guards the deep places of the earth. Some see it as the punishment for those who would stray so far from out rightful place as dwellers of light.
I explained this to the townspeople, and they asked what they can do. The simplest solution was to leave. Dark walkers can't survive the sun's rays. They rejected that. They offered me more gold if I could eradicate the dark walkers entirely. I'm not one to turn down gold, so there I was at the mouth of their deepest tunnel, confronted by the blackest black I've ever seen. What I should have been doing was worrying about the hands of a dark walker grabbing me by the ankles, but instead I was wondering what my wife was up to. Was she crossing blades with an assassin? Was she eating a quick meal before a sortie? Was she thinking of me?
I put these thoughts aside and started down the shaft. The floor canted at a severe angle, so that I had to lean back, occasionally putting a hand to the ground to find my balance. The townspeople had cautioned me that the shaft descended some few hundred feet before leveling out. At its base was the richest vein of mithril they'd found, and they assured me that by its silvery glow I'd be able to see.
The dark walkers came for me before I got that far.
One swept my feet out from under me and I tumbled head over heels. All around me I heard the skittering of their hands and feet passing over bare rock. Long fingers closed around my ankles, wrists, and mouth, and a hissing approached me. The darkness was so complete that I sensed the walker's shape only from the way sounds echoed off it.
This might have been the end of me, were I a lesser adventurer. But I'm one who comes prepared, and I slid a capsule of powdered magnesium out from the hidden slot between my middle and ring fingers. It sparked, and in the sudden blinding glare, I saw the dark walkers for what they were.
They were people. A little misshapen, certainly. Their limbs were too long, and their hair hung scraggly off their scalps, but there was no denying that these walkers were similar to us, divided only by the accidents off their birthplace. At the flashing of the light, they fled, hissing. Back toward the mithril. Back toward their homes, which I could only assume they were guarding against the encroaching people of Shadow-by-the-Rock.
It occurred to me then that the people of Shadow-by-the-Rock and I were dealing with the same issue. We'd put ourselves in a situation because it benefited our work, but in doing we'd put what we really cared about into peril. They'd moved their homes into the darkness, the better to pillage the riches of the earth. And I'd move myself away from my home, out into the wilds, the better to conduct my trade. But now they were losing their people to the shadow, just as I was losing my wife to the distance.
The solution to both situations -- change the way we lived -- was so clear, and yet both the townspeople and I had failed to accept it. They were blinded by money, just as I was.
But no longer. I wouldn't let my life get in the way of my relationship anymore. After I'd returned to the townspeople, I told them they should do the same. Their abandoned former homes in Light-by-the-Rock awaited them. They need only make the effort to relocate.
From that time on, I shifted my attentions more toward armor smithing. This meant I'd be around more for my wife. In time, she made similar arrangements.
We're together still, and I know I made the right choice.
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[WP] As a safety measure, you and other security guards must check the temperature of all shoppers before they can enter the mall. Today, after scanning the arm of a young teen, your thermometer returns a number below freezing.
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I clocked in at 7:30 AM; the same time as always. Every day I clocked in half an hour early. This gave me time to make myself some coffee in the break room, slip into my drab grey uniform top, and then work my way to my post. Being a security guard at the local shopping mall was far from exciting and the polar opposite of rewarding. At best you might catch a couple of teenagers trying to sneak off with a new pair of shoes or some drunk college kids taking the scooters for a joy ride. The rest of my time was spent pointing my little thermometer gun at people as they shuffled through the door.
&#x200B;
The post-pandemic world was an odd one. Never in a million years did I expect to have to check someone for a fever before they could go dump their parent's hard earned cash at a Hot Topic or a Gamestop. The owners had been very particular about checking everybody, though. The kids that frequented the place always tried to slip through, but orders were orders. I'd block them with an arm and get something along the lines of, "C'mon, Mr. Siegeld! I was just here yesterday! D'ya think I caught COVID overnight?" It was always the same logic and the same disappointed look when I told them that they had to play by the rules, even if they were just here yesterday.
&#x200B;
Today was no different. The usual crowds of kids dragging their parents along showed up around 9:00. Myself and my partner, Jerry, did our due diligence and checked every forehead that passed through the automatic doors. Today it seemed like Jerry was getting all of the complaints. "Hey, Mister! You let my kid through! You've got to let me in, too!" "Miss, neither of you are being let through. Your temperature was 102; neither of you have any business being out in public. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave." I let out a quiet chuckle as I waved a couple through my doors. We typically rotated back and forth between who got the hard customers and who had the easy day. It was looking like it would be my turn for the easy day, thankfully.
&#x200B;
"Hey, Tom! How 'bout you do less smirking and more temperature checkin'! You've got a line formin' over there." In my amusement, I must've completely ignored the crowd of impatient families beginning to form at my door. Then I looked down and saw why I had managed to completely gloss over the crowd. A small boy, he couldn't have been much older than 13 or 14 was standing patiently in front of me. He was an odd looking kid, though, very pale and had a thousand yard stare that sent chills down your spine. "Sorry about that, buddy, let me get your temperature and you'll be good to go." The kid barely acknowledged me. I let out an awkward chuckle and scanned his forehead. "Sorry about this kid; sometimes this equipment doesn't like to work properly." I smacked the side of the thermometer and tried again. The reading came out the same. The kid's temperature was coming back as 18 degrees. I checked to make sure the thermometer was set to show degrees in fahrenheit, which it was. "Just one second folks, the thermometer is having some issues. Hey, Jerry, can you try scannin' this kid real quick? My thermometer is actin' funny." Jerry gave me a confused look. "Quit fartin' around! You've got a line formin' and you're wanting to play pretend?!" Before I could respond, I looked back to the kid and saw he was gone. The people in the line began to grow more upset. Children were pulling at their mothers' shirts asking to hurry up. Families began to turn around. Maybe I was losing it? Maybe I was tired or the monotony had finally gotten to me.
&#x200B;
I clocked out early. I needed to get my head straight after that Normally, I would clock out at 8 PM. This gave me extra time to make sure everything was locked up and all of the customers were gone for the day. I went to clock out at 7:30. What was leaving half an hour early? I locked the door to the main entrance of the mall and started walking out to my car. I was stopped by the echoes of someone sobbing. Somebody must've dumped their girlfriend, I thought. But then another thought crept in to replace that one. What if it was that little boy? I sighed and decided I had better at least make sure that, whoever it was, was okay. I followed the sobs to the parking lot. Sat on a bench under the dim orange glow of the streetlight was a woman. So it was a break up, I thought. I strolled over to the woman, trying to put on the kindest face possible. "Is everything alright, miss?" She didn't even budge her head. The woman was older, silver streaks of gray highlighted her curly blonde hair. I went to put a comforting hand on her shoulder when she turned to look at me. Her face was misshapen and bloodied. She wheezed out a sinister whisper, "Where is my son?" Before I could answer, she disappeared in a gust of cold wind.
&#x200B;
I must've been losing it. Maybe the long days really had taken a toll on my mental health and I was beginning to hallucinate. I turned on the radio as I drove home; I couldn't bear to be alone with my thoughts right now. The radio squeaked to life with a hiss. The solemn voice of the radio's talk show host filled my car, "Tonight I want to ask all of you listeners out there to send your thoughts and prayers to the Badoni family. Earlier this afternoon, Ms. Jeanette Badoni and her 14 year old son, Julien, were involved in a fatal hit and run car accident just outside of the Central Faire Mall. Witnesses state that a 2000 Chevy Tahoe raced through a red light as Ms Badoni and her son were crossing the street at around 8 o'clock this morning. Paramedics arrived to the scene promptly, but declared the two dead shortly after arrival. The two will have a service at St. Mary's on 2nd Street next Tuesday. Law enforcement has announced that there is a $10,000 reward for any information that leads to the arrest of the killer."
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Lance Ravenbow here. Professional armorer and dragon slayer.
I'm reminded of the time the people of Shadow-by-the-Rock hired me to defend them from an invasion of dark walkers.
This came at an unhappy time in my life. My wife and I were on the rocks. Our jobs kept us on the road most of the year -- her hunting bounties, me hunting dragons. When we did see each other, once our initial passion had worn off, we were left discussing the ways we'd each let the other down. Maybe I'd hoped to see her when I was last in town, but I heard she'd decided to run off and slay a lich instead. Or maybe she'd expected me to write her letters while she was guarding the unborn princess of the Elfhead Imperiocracy, but I'd been busy hunting a muck dragon in the muck swamps of Muckland. And so there we'd be, the two of us in love, wanting one another, but hurt, rejected, and uncertain how to solve the issue.
We'd tried working together. That's a story for another time. We'd tried meeting up once a month. That plan didn't outlast my next false imprisonment. We felt out of options, stuck in this situation we'd arranged for ourselves. When we'd left my forge that last time, I brushed my lips against her cheek, then held my face close to hers. I searched her eyes for some confirmation that everything would be right between us. All I say there was my own worry reflected back at me. She pecked my lips, pulled me close, and headed off toward the rising sun. My own path had taken me here, Shadow-by-the-Rock, where the sun only shined in the final hours of each day.
The Rock in question was a massive onyx pyramid. It rose some thousand feet into the air, and the people of Shadow-by-the-Rock had made their fortunes mining the vein of mithril at its core. On approach, I passed through the remains of Light-by-the-Rock, the town where the miners lived before shifting their homes into the caverns they'd dug into the rock.
As the beleaguered town marshal explained to me, life had been perfectly swell, if dim, until the month before when a girl went missing. The townsfolk banded together and searched the cavern. They sent search parties down every shaft, along every tunnel, and up through every relief chute until they ran out of options. They suspected she might have left the Rock entirely, until the night they heard her.
Shadow-by-the-Rock has unusual acoustics. It is entirely encased in onyx, and therefore sound, if it hits the right spot overhead, can move in unusual ways. The simplest way this can happen is that someone can whisper, and if someone else stands at the precise right point on the opposite side of the cavern, they'll hear that whisper as though it came from right next to their ear.
What happened with the missing girl was of this nature, but far more mysterious. In the middle of the night, every person awoke to her whispering, ever so softly, "Death is a home you've built for yourself."
That day a boy went missing. Then a man vanished, then another girl. And nightly, the chorus of whispers gained strength. "Death is a home you've built yourself," came the refrain.
After some weeks of this, the first dark walker showed itself. During a town meeting to discuss the ongoing crisis, conversation faded away at the sight of a silhouetted figure atop the roof of the mayor's home. The silhouette was oddly shaped, longer in the legs and arms than any person should be, but with a short torso, as though it were of a creature accustomed to scaling vertical shafts.
The townspeople asked what it wanted. They cursed it, begged it, and threatened it.
The dark walker received their words in silence. After a time, it extended its arm. Clutched in its hand and starkly visible in contrast to its darkened shape, was the missing girl.
It dropped her.
Were it not for the quick thinking and faster feet of the town alderman, the girl might have hit the ground. He held her in his arms, and if he didn't see her pale skin and grimy hair, he might have thought he was holding an ice sculpture.
After the commotion around her fall had cleared, the townsfolk returned their attention to the mayor's roof. The silhouette was gone.
When they showed me the girl, I knew what we were dealing with. The dark walker is a spirit of shadow. It guards the deep places of the earth. Some see it as the punishment for those who would stray so far from out rightful place as dwellers of light.
I explained this to the townspeople, and they asked what they can do. The simplest solution was to leave. Dark walkers can't survive the sun's rays. They rejected that. They offered me more gold if I could eradicate the dark walkers entirely. I'm not one to turn down gold, so there I was at the mouth of their deepest tunnel, confronted by the blackest black I've ever seen. What I should have been doing was worrying about the hands of a dark walker grabbing me by the ankles, but instead I was wondering what my wife was up to. Was she crossing blades with an assassin? Was she eating a quick meal before a sortie? Was she thinking of me?
I put these thoughts aside and started down the shaft. The floor canted at a severe angle, so that I had to lean back, occasionally putting a hand to the ground to find my balance. The townspeople had cautioned me that the shaft descended some few hundred feet before leveling out. At its base was the richest vein of mithril they'd found, and they assured me that by its silvery glow I'd be able to see.
The dark walkers came for me before I got that far.
One swept my feet out from under me and I tumbled head over heels. All around me I heard the skittering of their hands and feet passing over bare rock. Long fingers closed around my ankles, wrists, and mouth, and a hissing approached me. The darkness was so complete that I sensed the walker's shape only from the way sounds echoed off it.
This might have been the end of me, were I a lesser adventurer. But I'm one who comes prepared, and I slid a capsule of powdered magnesium out from the hidden slot between my middle and ring fingers. It sparked, and in the sudden blinding glare, I saw the dark walkers for what they were.
They were people. A little misshapen, certainly. Their limbs were too long, and their hair hung scraggly off their scalps, but there was no denying that these walkers were similar to us, divided only by the accidents off their birthplace. At the flashing of the light, they fled, hissing. Back toward the mithril. Back toward their homes, which I could only assume they were guarding against the encroaching people of Shadow-by-the-Rock.
It occurred to me then that the people of Shadow-by-the-Rock and I were dealing with the same issue. We'd put ourselves in a situation because it benefited our work, but in doing we'd put what we really cared about into peril. They'd moved their homes into the darkness, the better to pillage the riches of the earth. And I'd move myself away from my home, out into the wilds, the better to conduct my trade. But now they were losing their people to the shadow, just as I was losing my wife to the distance.
The solution to both situations -- change the way we lived -- was so clear, and yet both the townspeople and I had failed to accept it. They were blinded by money, just as I was.
But no longer. I wouldn't let my life get in the way of my relationship anymore. After I'd returned to the townspeople, I told them they should do the same. Their abandoned former homes in Light-by-the-Rock awaited them. They need only make the effort to relocate.
From that time on, I shifted my attentions more toward armor smithing. This meant I'd be around more for my wife. In time, she made similar arrangements.
We're together still, and I know I made the right choice.
|
|
[WP] As a safety measure, you and other security guards must check the temperature of all shoppers before they can enter the mall. Today, after scanning the arm of a young teen, your thermometer returns a number below freezing.
|
It was another bullshit day inside the minimum wage purgatory I surrendered nearly all my time to. The tedious requirements, the droning of hours as the sun rose and set beyond the horizon outside the glass windows of the All American! mall. Days no matter how beautiful never to be felt, the chill of the early autumn breeze only a flash of a memory as I roamed this air conditioned hell; a glorified freezer for the walking dead. That asshole supervisor Patrick Maisy always made a point to keep the temperature roughly around sixty degrees, like he owned the damn place. In his eyes, his words were God with a nasally, self-important voice that pierced against my eardrums like a power tool, eager to demonstrate any sort of power he held over the rest of us staff members.
“And another thing,” Maisy chimed just as I and the three other security guards were about to start our shift. Every Sunday morning since this fucking pandemic started, it was mandatory to come in a half hour early to get updates for the upcoming days. Not that Maisy cared, in fact I’d be willing to bet it was the highlight of his entire week. He was toying with a white, handheld thermometer that looked a little like a gun before shoving it against Mickey, one of the younger guards despite working here the longest out of any of us. He grabbed two more identical thermometers out of a brown box in the corner of the break room and said, “With the virus starting to surge again, I’ve been told by management that we’re back to checking everyone’s temperatures.”
“You’re kidding me,” Mickey groaned. “I thought we were finally done with that shit.”
“Tell that to the rise in positive cases.” Maisy replied briskly. He turned towards me. “You take third entrance on the right. Robert, Mickey, you guys take the other two on either side,” then in the most insincere voice with a sluggish clap, he said, “C’mon, team. Let’s help bring down the curve, yeah?”
So until my break at eleven thirty, I stood just beyond the entrance point of the store, only a few feet away from the fresh October air like some sort of cruel tease of fate. I could smell the crispness in the wind, hear the trees shake and watched as shoppers zipped their jackets up to their chin when they walked back and forth around the parking lot. And I was jealous of them, dammit all if I wasn’t jealous.
The kid came only fifteen minutes before I was ready to leave for lunch. Blonde, with most of his face hidden behind a light blue disposable mask and a pair of dark Ray Bands. He couldn’t have been older than nine, but he strolled through the lot alone, confidence rolling cooly off his shoulders as he curled his hands into fists and shoved them in his hoodie pocket.
I perked up a brow and he nodded once at me. “What’s up?”
“Where’s your parents?” I asked, glancing over his shoulder to see if I could track down any sort of adult who looked like they might know him. Nobody was paying attention to either of us, and the short line beginning to file behind him was all but completely disinterested and absorbed in themselves.
The kid clicked his tongue against his cheek. “Don’t got none.”
“That so?”
“Yeah, man. They’re gone. Gone, gone, gone like everything else in this damn world.”
Suspicious, though also very aware of the impatient crowd behind him, I checked the boy’s temperature before becoming more frustrated.
I hit the white thermometer against my palm as it continued to flash in green numbers 32.5 F.
“Damn thing,” I grumbled. “Here, let me just-“
“Look, man.” The boy brought his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, and I couldn’t help taking a step back in shock. His eyes were entirely white, with soulless little black dots in the middle as pupils. He laughed at my disbelief before shielding his face again. “You’re not the only one in purgatory here.”
|
[Poem]
He's quiet and not in a rush
Staring straight ahead with icy eyes
I tell him we will try again as my cheeks feel flush
He doesn't flinch when a cranky baby behind him cries.
Another strange result appears on the machine
He stumbles away slowly after glancing at a text
My coworkers also look puzzled at we have just seen
There's no time to think as I shakily announce "next".
|
|
[WP] As a safety measure, you and other security guards must check the temperature of all shoppers before they can enter the mall. Today, after scanning the arm of a young teen, your thermometer returns a number below freezing.
|
I clocked in at 7:30 AM; the same time as always. Every day I clocked in half an hour early. This gave me time to make myself some coffee in the break room, slip into my drab grey uniform top, and then work my way to my post. Being a security guard at the local shopping mall was far from exciting and the polar opposite of rewarding. At best you might catch a couple of teenagers trying to sneak off with a new pair of shoes or some drunk college kids taking the scooters for a joy ride. The rest of my time was spent pointing my little thermometer gun at people as they shuffled through the door.
&#x200B;
The post-pandemic world was an odd one. Never in a million years did I expect to have to check someone for a fever before they could go dump their parent's hard earned cash at a Hot Topic or a Gamestop. The owners had been very particular about checking everybody, though. The kids that frequented the place always tried to slip through, but orders were orders. I'd block them with an arm and get something along the lines of, "C'mon, Mr. Siegeld! I was just here yesterday! D'ya think I caught COVID overnight?" It was always the same logic and the same disappointed look when I told them that they had to play by the rules, even if they were just here yesterday.
&#x200B;
Today was no different. The usual crowds of kids dragging their parents along showed up around 9:00. Myself and my partner, Jerry, did our due diligence and checked every forehead that passed through the automatic doors. Today it seemed like Jerry was getting all of the complaints. "Hey, Mister! You let my kid through! You've got to let me in, too!" "Miss, neither of you are being let through. Your temperature was 102; neither of you have any business being out in public. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave." I let out a quiet chuckle as I waved a couple through my doors. We typically rotated back and forth between who got the hard customers and who had the easy day. It was looking like it would be my turn for the easy day, thankfully.
&#x200B;
"Hey, Tom! How 'bout you do less smirking and more temperature checkin'! You've got a line formin' over there." In my amusement, I must've completely ignored the crowd of impatient families beginning to form at my door. Then I looked down and saw why I had managed to completely gloss over the crowd. A small boy, he couldn't have been much older than 13 or 14 was standing patiently in front of me. He was an odd looking kid, though, very pale and had a thousand yard stare that sent chills down your spine. "Sorry about that, buddy, let me get your temperature and you'll be good to go." The kid barely acknowledged me. I let out an awkward chuckle and scanned his forehead. "Sorry about this kid; sometimes this equipment doesn't like to work properly." I smacked the side of the thermometer and tried again. The reading came out the same. The kid's temperature was coming back as 18 degrees. I checked to make sure the thermometer was set to show degrees in fahrenheit, which it was. "Just one second folks, the thermometer is having some issues. Hey, Jerry, can you try scannin' this kid real quick? My thermometer is actin' funny." Jerry gave me a confused look. "Quit fartin' around! You've got a line formin' and you're wanting to play pretend?!" Before I could respond, I looked back to the kid and saw he was gone. The people in the line began to grow more upset. Children were pulling at their mothers' shirts asking to hurry up. Families began to turn around. Maybe I was losing it? Maybe I was tired or the monotony had finally gotten to me.
&#x200B;
I clocked out early. I needed to get my head straight after that Normally, I would clock out at 8 PM. This gave me extra time to make sure everything was locked up and all of the customers were gone for the day. I went to clock out at 7:30. What was leaving half an hour early? I locked the door to the main entrance of the mall and started walking out to my car. I was stopped by the echoes of someone sobbing. Somebody must've dumped their girlfriend, I thought. But then another thought crept in to replace that one. What if it was that little boy? I sighed and decided I had better at least make sure that, whoever it was, was okay. I followed the sobs to the parking lot. Sat on a bench under the dim orange glow of the streetlight was a woman. So it was a break up, I thought. I strolled over to the woman, trying to put on the kindest face possible. "Is everything alright, miss?" She didn't even budge her head. The woman was older, silver streaks of gray highlighted her curly blonde hair. I went to put a comforting hand on her shoulder when she turned to look at me. Her face was misshapen and bloodied. She wheezed out a sinister whisper, "Where is my son?" Before I could answer, she disappeared in a gust of cold wind.
&#x200B;
I must've been losing it. Maybe the long days really had taken a toll on my mental health and I was beginning to hallucinate. I turned on the radio as I drove home; I couldn't bear to be alone with my thoughts right now. The radio squeaked to life with a hiss. The solemn voice of the radio's talk show host filled my car, "Tonight I want to ask all of you listeners out there to send your thoughts and prayers to the Badoni family. Earlier this afternoon, Ms. Jeanette Badoni and her 14 year old son, Julien, were involved in a fatal hit and run car accident just outside of the Central Faire Mall. Witnesses state that a 2000 Chevy Tahoe raced through a red light as Ms Badoni and her son were crossing the street at around 8 o'clock this morning. Paramedics arrived to the scene promptly, but declared the two dead shortly after arrival. The two will have a service at St. Mary's on 2nd Street next Tuesday. Law enforcement has announced that there is a $10,000 reward for any information that leads to the arrest of the killer."
|
[Poem]
He's quiet and not in a rush
Staring straight ahead with icy eyes
I tell him we will try again as my cheeks feel flush
He doesn't flinch when a cranky baby behind him cries.
Another strange result appears on the machine
He stumbles away slowly after glancing at a text
My coworkers also look puzzled at we have just seen
There's no time to think as I shakily announce "next".
|
|
[WP] As a safety measure, you and other security guards must check the temperature of all shoppers before they can enter the mall. Today, after scanning the arm of a young teen, your thermometer returns a number below freezing.
|
I clocked in at 7:30 AM; the same time as always. Every day I clocked in half an hour early. This gave me time to make myself some coffee in the break room, slip into my drab grey uniform top, and then work my way to my post. Being a security guard at the local shopping mall was far from exciting and the polar opposite of rewarding. At best you might catch a couple of teenagers trying to sneak off with a new pair of shoes or some drunk college kids taking the scooters for a joy ride. The rest of my time was spent pointing my little thermometer gun at people as they shuffled through the door.
&#x200B;
The post-pandemic world was an odd one. Never in a million years did I expect to have to check someone for a fever before they could go dump their parent's hard earned cash at a Hot Topic or a Gamestop. The owners had been very particular about checking everybody, though. The kids that frequented the place always tried to slip through, but orders were orders. I'd block them with an arm and get something along the lines of, "C'mon, Mr. Siegeld! I was just here yesterday! D'ya think I caught COVID overnight?" It was always the same logic and the same disappointed look when I told them that they had to play by the rules, even if they were just here yesterday.
&#x200B;
Today was no different. The usual crowds of kids dragging their parents along showed up around 9:00. Myself and my partner, Jerry, did our due diligence and checked every forehead that passed through the automatic doors. Today it seemed like Jerry was getting all of the complaints. "Hey, Mister! You let my kid through! You've got to let me in, too!" "Miss, neither of you are being let through. Your temperature was 102; neither of you have any business being out in public. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave." I let out a quiet chuckle as I waved a couple through my doors. We typically rotated back and forth between who got the hard customers and who had the easy day. It was looking like it would be my turn for the easy day, thankfully.
&#x200B;
"Hey, Tom! How 'bout you do less smirking and more temperature checkin'! You've got a line formin' over there." In my amusement, I must've completely ignored the crowd of impatient families beginning to form at my door. Then I looked down and saw why I had managed to completely gloss over the crowd. A small boy, he couldn't have been much older than 13 or 14 was standing patiently in front of me. He was an odd looking kid, though, very pale and had a thousand yard stare that sent chills down your spine. "Sorry about that, buddy, let me get your temperature and you'll be good to go." The kid barely acknowledged me. I let out an awkward chuckle and scanned his forehead. "Sorry about this kid; sometimes this equipment doesn't like to work properly." I smacked the side of the thermometer and tried again. The reading came out the same. The kid's temperature was coming back as 18 degrees. I checked to make sure the thermometer was set to show degrees in fahrenheit, which it was. "Just one second folks, the thermometer is having some issues. Hey, Jerry, can you try scannin' this kid real quick? My thermometer is actin' funny." Jerry gave me a confused look. "Quit fartin' around! You've got a line formin' and you're wanting to play pretend?!" Before I could respond, I looked back to the kid and saw he was gone. The people in the line began to grow more upset. Children were pulling at their mothers' shirts asking to hurry up. Families began to turn around. Maybe I was losing it? Maybe I was tired or the monotony had finally gotten to me.
&#x200B;
I clocked out early. I needed to get my head straight after that Normally, I would clock out at 8 PM. This gave me extra time to make sure everything was locked up and all of the customers were gone for the day. I went to clock out at 7:30. What was leaving half an hour early? I locked the door to the main entrance of the mall and started walking out to my car. I was stopped by the echoes of someone sobbing. Somebody must've dumped their girlfriend, I thought. But then another thought crept in to replace that one. What if it was that little boy? I sighed and decided I had better at least make sure that, whoever it was, was okay. I followed the sobs to the parking lot. Sat on a bench under the dim orange glow of the streetlight was a woman. So it was a break up, I thought. I strolled over to the woman, trying to put on the kindest face possible. "Is everything alright, miss?" She didn't even budge her head. The woman was older, silver streaks of gray highlighted her curly blonde hair. I went to put a comforting hand on her shoulder when she turned to look at me. Her face was misshapen and bloodied. She wheezed out a sinister whisper, "Where is my son?" Before I could answer, she disappeared in a gust of cold wind.
&#x200B;
I must've been losing it. Maybe the long days really had taken a toll on my mental health and I was beginning to hallucinate. I turned on the radio as I drove home; I couldn't bear to be alone with my thoughts right now. The radio squeaked to life with a hiss. The solemn voice of the radio's talk show host filled my car, "Tonight I want to ask all of you listeners out there to send your thoughts and prayers to the Badoni family. Earlier this afternoon, Ms. Jeanette Badoni and her 14 year old son, Julien, were involved in a fatal hit and run car accident just outside of the Central Faire Mall. Witnesses state that a 2000 Chevy Tahoe raced through a red light as Ms Badoni and her son were crossing the street at around 8 o'clock this morning. Paramedics arrived to the scene promptly, but declared the two dead shortly after arrival. The two will have a service at St. Mary's on 2nd Street next Tuesday. Law enforcement has announced that there is a $10,000 reward for any information that leads to the arrest of the killer."
|
It was another bullshit day inside the minimum wage purgatory I surrendered nearly all my time to. The tedious requirements, the droning of hours as the sun rose and set beyond the horizon outside the glass windows of the All American! mall. Days no matter how beautiful never to be felt, the chill of the early autumn breeze only a flash of a memory as I roamed this air conditioned hell; a glorified freezer for the walking dead. That asshole supervisor Patrick Maisy always made a point to keep the temperature roughly around sixty degrees, like he owned the damn place. In his eyes, his words were God with a nasally, self-important voice that pierced against my eardrums like a power tool, eager to demonstrate any sort of power he held over the rest of us staff members.
“And another thing,” Maisy chimed just as I and the three other security guards were about to start our shift. Every Sunday morning since this fucking pandemic started, it was mandatory to come in a half hour early to get updates for the upcoming days. Not that Maisy cared, in fact I’d be willing to bet it was the highlight of his entire week. He was toying with a white, handheld thermometer that looked a little like a gun before shoving it against Mickey, one of the younger guards despite working here the longest out of any of us. He grabbed two more identical thermometers out of a brown box in the corner of the break room and said, “With the virus starting to surge again, I’ve been told by management that we’re back to checking everyone’s temperatures.”
“You’re kidding me,” Mickey groaned. “I thought we were finally done with that shit.”
“Tell that to the rise in positive cases.” Maisy replied briskly. He turned towards me. “You take third entrance on the right. Robert, Mickey, you guys take the other two on either side,” then in the most insincere voice with a sluggish clap, he said, “C’mon, team. Let’s help bring down the curve, yeah?”
So until my break at eleven thirty, I stood just beyond the entrance point of the store, only a few feet away from the fresh October air like some sort of cruel tease of fate. I could smell the crispness in the wind, hear the trees shake and watched as shoppers zipped their jackets up to their chin when they walked back and forth around the parking lot. And I was jealous of them, dammit all if I wasn’t jealous.
The kid came only fifteen minutes before I was ready to leave for lunch. Blonde, with most of his face hidden behind a light blue disposable mask and a pair of dark Ray Bands. He couldn’t have been older than nine, but he strolled through the lot alone, confidence rolling cooly off his shoulders as he curled his hands into fists and shoved them in his hoodie pocket.
I perked up a brow and he nodded once at me. “What’s up?”
“Where’s your parents?” I asked, glancing over his shoulder to see if I could track down any sort of adult who looked like they might know him. Nobody was paying attention to either of us, and the short line beginning to file behind him was all but completely disinterested and absorbed in themselves.
The kid clicked his tongue against his cheek. “Don’t got none.”
“That so?”
“Yeah, man. They’re gone. Gone, gone, gone like everything else in this damn world.”
Suspicious, though also very aware of the impatient crowd behind him, I checked the boy’s temperature before becoming more frustrated.
I hit the white thermometer against my palm as it continued to flash in green numbers 32.5 F.
“Damn thing,” I grumbled. “Here, let me just-“
“Look, man.” The boy brought his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, and I couldn’t help taking a step back in shock. His eyes were entirely white, with soulless little black dots in the middle as pupils. He laughed at my disbelief before shielding his face again. “You’re not the only one in purgatory here.”
|
|
[WP] You're the laughing stock of the Underworld, but on Earth your reputation attracts followers willing to betray everything. You're the only demon to uphold their side of the bargain, no strings attached.
|
"Great Lord Soku," the woman breathes, hair brushing the floor as she lowers her head, "I'll do anything for a taste of immortality. I'll lie, I'll murder, I'll give up my very soul, only to spare myself the pain that comes with--"
"Don't be so dramatic," I sigh, picking at a grain of ash stuck under one of my razor-sharp nails.
Face streaked with tears, the woman lifts her head, awe and confusion passing over her wrinkled face. "Great Lord Soku?"
"You cults should really do your research first," I continue, wringing my massive hands and extending one toward her. "I don't *want* anything from you, but if you're going to be around all those millions of years, at least join my entourage. And if you don't want to exist past the heat death of the universe, do a chore for my every now and then, and we can call it even. Sound fair?"
I never sought out the relief of my devotees that comes with the loose terms of my pacts, but it comes without fail, fast and sudden. The old woman leaps to her feet, bowing vigorously, a crooked smile plastered onto her lips. "What will be my first task, Great Lord Soku? However I can repay my great debt, I will--"
"*Again* with the dramatics." I roll my eyes. Then, with a wave of my hand (and its ash-free fingernails), I grant the woman at least three million more years of life. A purple aura, of sorts, rushes down her from head to toe, making her gasp. Then the light recedes, and although the woman appears unchanged, I know she'll live for eons to come. "Now. If you could escort me out of here, that'd be great."
"Of course!" the woman shouts, leaping past me to throw open the door. Following behind her, I duck underneath the doorway and step out into the suburban cul-de-sac, automatic lamps illuminating an empty street. The woman peers left and right, arms spread wide in a defensive stance as she cautiously leads me down the street. Seeing her so perky--more alive than in any of the decades I've observed her--makes me chuckle. The other demons may mock me for my loose, 'cowardly' methods, but it does give me some gratification to give my devotees such purpose.
"Excellent work, Sucky," growls a disembodied jeer, echoing over the empty streets. "You've treated yet another of your groupies to the gift of paranoia."
The woman leaps into the air at least six inches (not a feat of immortality, but fright) and takes several rapid spins. "Who's there?" she howls. "No one will mock Great Lord Soku!"
"Calm down, Marie," I warn her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Brusci, come out."
A set of horns appears in the air, then a snout-like face materializes just below them. Brusci's wings come just before his back, sharp talons forming at their ends. Bulging muscles and a twelve-pack follow, finished off by a pair of bulging thighs that are the demon's most prized possession. Brusci crosses his arms, peering down at me with a smirk of superiority. "Never were brave enough to set good terms, were you?" he sneers.
"I'm sorry I don't coerce them into signing away their souls, like the likes of you," I retort, although my voice shakes audibly. The woman turns slowly, lifting my hand off her shoulder with shaking fingers of her own. Her eyes have a fear in them that Brusci can detect.
"You're a disgrace to our species, Sucky," Brusci shouts. Wings flapping, he soars forward, slamming down just in front of me. Swallowing hard, I shove my devotee behind me. "You give us a bad name, one of wimps and cowards. I should finish you off here and now, so you don't spoil our reputation any further."
Then he lands a hard punch that flies into my jaw, sending me stumbling backward. Marie is knocked to the ground, shrieking, but her broken nose quickly reshapes itself. Muttering under my breath, I wipe my face and raise my hands to the sky, beginning an ancient chant. "Aww, summoning your little friends?" Brusci mocks. "You'll never be able to call enough groupies to save you--not even if there are a thousand of that little old crone."
*"Ad me, amici,"* I chant, *"ad me*.*"* Then I turn to the demon, courage returning. "That's the thing, Brusci. Not everyone is like little Marie here, who just wished for immortality. There's also..."
But before I can finish, the ground shakes, and a hulking fist slams through the asphalt. Blue veins bulge, pumping blood to the massive muscles I created. Carl's deep voice resounds through the suburb, roaring so loud that Marie breaks into a grin. *"Who has insulted my master?"*
|
“What’s the deal, Slim?”
“Poor girl watched her cat die.”
“Resurrection?”
“That’s about the shape of it.”
Slim was short and fat, like all good Slim’s should be. He sprawled across the divan like a figure out of ancient Rome, which he wasn’t, plucking chilled souls from a frosted chalice like a demon prince on his day off, which he was. The soul screamed high and shrill as it went down. High and shrill. Some sounds you never quite got used to, no matter many times you hear it.
And me? I’m just Slim’s boy. Sworn to his beneficent service since August 27th, the year of someone’s lord four-hundred and ten. I was the Roman. Bastard got the divan from me.
“Was it a calico?” I asked.
Slim plucked another soul from the chalice. Squeezed it between thumb and forefinger until the memory welled up like morning dew. “What’s it to ya?” he asked.
“I like calicoes. They're luckier, got more lives.”
“Naw, it wasn’t a calico.”
“Shit.”
He tossed high into the air. It caught and held the firelight, buoyed up on coiling currents of smoke. Slim caught the memories on his tongue, eyes closed. He smiled, which meant the soul must be a woman’s. Slim thought their memories tasted better.
Slim’s boy since the year 410, and I’ll never forget the sort of man I serve.
“Get to it then,” Slim said. “And make the cat immortal. She was specific about immortal.”
\*\*\*
A dead cat lay on the side of the road, beneath an old tree choked with creeping ivy, right down there in coastal Georgia. It was small, in the shadows of the tree and houses. So was the girl crouched beside it.
Hell inures a man to tears, and I’d been there long before I ever set eyes on Slim. So my expression didn’t waver, even as she looked up at me. Pupils wide as quarters. Haunted eyes.
“Are you here about my cat?” she asked. Maybe sixteen, maybe not. I’d had a daughter her age, once.
“Yes ma’am, I am,” I said.
Silence stretched out, laid down heavy on the street. Cars raced by, like as not what did it, and people went about their business. A woman in a bright red skirt stood squinting curiously in her open door three houses down, the family resemblance uncanny, which did threaten to undo me. The mother didn’t seem concerned, not really, just watchful. A mother. Her eyes passed over the shadow that concealed us. Her daughter, their cat, and me.
“You don’t look like the last one,” the girl said.
“Slim’s his own man,” I said.
She blinked. “Slim? But he’s—”
“Yeah, I know. Slim said you wanted it immortal.”
“His name is Pearls.” The girl reached down toward her cat. A black cat, he didn’t look like pearls. “Can you do it? Make him immortal. Maybe it’s stupid, it’s probably stupid, but if everything costs a soul I may as well swing for the fences, right? What else could you do? Make Pearls walk through walls? Fly? Make him smarter, or faster, or—”
She closed her eyes. Settled back, sitting seiza style though there was nothing Japanese about her. Long dark hair, with skin the color of burnished bronze. A quiet, shell-shocked grace. Sometimes a man steps back into his past, greets ghosts and has to treat them like their own people. A glanced up to her mother, but that open door had closed.
“Did you kiss him?”
“Yes,” the girl said.
“Then I’m afraid you signed the contract. Slim is very specific about his contracts. You’ve got the world’s first immortal cat. Pearls. But I’m afraid that’s all you’ve got.”
And she nodded. Opened her eyes. Smiled, like she could have lived with that. One look and I could tell that she was to young to know that she might have lived. Immortal or not, Pearls was just a cat. It shouldn’t cost up front for just a cat.
“That’s enough,” she said. Stood. Approached. Leaned her head back as if to kiss me, until I recoiled in an sudden, unusual display of horror.
“I do things differently,” I said.
“Me too,” she said, and kissed me. Claimed something for herself.
Cars raced through the streets. People went about their business. A black cat whimpered, and then stood up. Memories welling like dew on the jewel held in my hand. Her soul was a seamless, pristine white, more beautiful than any pearl.
\*\*\*
“What’s the deal?” Slim called.
“Deal’s done,” I said.
“Good boy,” Slim said, and turned away. He sipped whiskey from another golden frosted chalice, and there beside him the hoard of souls. Like fish roe piled high, spilling out. All the colors of the rainbow, but nothing like the soul I held. Nothing at all.
“Slim?” I said.
“Yeah?”
“You remember our deal?”
“’Course I remember the deal."
"The addendum? About the divan?”
Slim patted the divan’s polished arm affectionately. Memories welled up in me. We stood on a balcony overlooking the courtyard of my villa, the household assembled below us with kitchen knives and makeshift spears, a few surviving soldiers in dented breastplates and swathes of bandages. My daughter there, beside the boy she loved. She’d sworn to Venus that she would die beside him, and as the Visigoths pounded on the villa’s gates, I knew that the barbarians would oblige her.
Slim shook his head when I asked about her. Wouldn’t bargain with another spirit’s pledge.
He’d bargained for the divan, though. It was more than a thousand years ago, and Slim was a younger man. I think that it amused him to watch me squirm.
*“I’ll get you out of here,”* he’d said, *“enter you into my service. There’s immortality there—close as a man can get at any rate—and all it costs you is the household slaves. One hell of a deal, if I do say so myself. But what about that divan there? That’s a handsome piece. Persian, right? I’ll buy it from you, for a little favor.”*
I shook the memories away, the old hauntings of my past. A young girl’s foolish declaration of love, and an old merchant’s final, desperate haggling.
And there was the chalice with it’s fish roe souls. Jewels I had harvested. Watched him wolfing down. This strangest of all demons, who bargained the fine details of his contracts and appreciated jokes.
A bastard, but so am I.
“Slim? I’m calling in that favor.”
\*\*\*
Pearls the cat sits trapped on the very highest branch of his favorite tree. That happens sometimes, but Maggie always get him down. Pearls loves Maggie. She scratches that spot behind his ear, and when she talks to him he feels so special. Can tell she really needs it. Licks the spot on her neck that makes her giggle. He’s seen other girls, and thinks Maggie doesn’t giggle enough.
But right now, he can’t find Maggie. He climbed way up the tree searching for her, but she wasn’t anywhere at all, and now it’s dark and she isn’t coming when he calls.
Her mother isn’t either, though she’s out there, calling too. Pearls doesn’t like the sound of that. He’s listened to Maggie long enough to which sounds are good and which are bad.
He thinks, sad in that way peculiar to cats, that most sounds must be bad. If they weren’t, Maggie would've giggled more. Would've been here too. Listening with him.
There’s no sound when the strange man comes, just the sour scent of rot and fumes, like the rabbit Pearls found in the park last week.
The man is tall. Thin. He can barely fit, way up in the tree. Pearls thinks the branch should break, and yet it doesn’t. Odd.
It’s been the oddest day.
“Here,” the strange man says. A good sound, the sound of treats. But it’s not a treat, Pearls realizes quickly. This object is not for eating.
The strange man holds out a collar, like the dogs so often wear, only this one is sized for cats and has something very pretty hanging off of it. It’s not like anything Pearls has ever seen. It’s like a rock, but different. Like a precious rock. Or not. More? The object is shiny, and it’s the pure white color of foam spraying off the sea, and the feathers of the gulls when Maggie says he mustn’t bother them, the wispy clouds that dance and curl when they’re laying in the park and she points up and says his name.
And it feels like home, when the strange man fastens it around his neck. Warm, like nothing ever was.
Pearls licks the man. It’s possible that he isn’t all that strange.
Then the man is gone and it’s just Pearls and his pretty stone, watching Maggie’s mother she races up and down the street. Bad sounds and bad smells that make Pearls never want to leave his tree.
Pearls struggles very hard to reach down and lick his pretty new stone. It feels odd on his tongue, and odder still, he thinks he hears a sound carried on the wind. Something good. Perhaps a giggle.
Perhaps he never has to leave his tree.
Perhaps, Pearls thinks, curling around the new collar that he loves, he has everything he needs right here.
r/TurningtoWords
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[WP] You're the laughing stock of the Underworld, but on Earth your reputation attracts followers willing to betray everything. You're the only demon to uphold their side of the bargain, no strings attached.
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"Great Lord Soku," the woman breathes, hair brushing the floor as she lowers her head, "I'll do anything for a taste of immortality. I'll lie, I'll murder, I'll give up my very soul, only to spare myself the pain that comes with--"
"Don't be so dramatic," I sigh, picking at a grain of ash stuck under one of my razor-sharp nails.
Face streaked with tears, the woman lifts her head, awe and confusion passing over her wrinkled face. "Great Lord Soku?"
"You cults should really do your research first," I continue, wringing my massive hands and extending one toward her. "I don't *want* anything from you, but if you're going to be around all those millions of years, at least join my entourage. And if you don't want to exist past the heat death of the universe, do a chore for my every now and then, and we can call it even. Sound fair?"
I never sought out the relief of my devotees that comes with the loose terms of my pacts, but it comes without fail, fast and sudden. The old woman leaps to her feet, bowing vigorously, a crooked smile plastered onto her lips. "What will be my first task, Great Lord Soku? However I can repay my great debt, I will--"
"*Again* with the dramatics." I roll my eyes. Then, with a wave of my hand (and its ash-free fingernails), I grant the woman at least three million more years of life. A purple aura, of sorts, rushes down her from head to toe, making her gasp. Then the light recedes, and although the woman appears unchanged, I know she'll live for eons to come. "Now. If you could escort me out of here, that'd be great."
"Of course!" the woman shouts, leaping past me to throw open the door. Following behind her, I duck underneath the doorway and step out into the suburban cul-de-sac, automatic lamps illuminating an empty street. The woman peers left and right, arms spread wide in a defensive stance as she cautiously leads me down the street. Seeing her so perky--more alive than in any of the decades I've observed her--makes me chuckle. The other demons may mock me for my loose, 'cowardly' methods, but it does give me some gratification to give my devotees such purpose.
"Excellent work, Sucky," growls a disembodied jeer, echoing over the empty streets. "You've treated yet another of your groupies to the gift of paranoia."
The woman leaps into the air at least six inches (not a feat of immortality, but fright) and takes several rapid spins. "Who's there?" she howls. "No one will mock Great Lord Soku!"
"Calm down, Marie," I warn her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Brusci, come out."
A set of horns appears in the air, then a snout-like face materializes just below them. Brusci's wings come just before his back, sharp talons forming at their ends. Bulging muscles and a twelve-pack follow, finished off by a pair of bulging thighs that are the demon's most prized possession. Brusci crosses his arms, peering down at me with a smirk of superiority. "Never were brave enough to set good terms, were you?" he sneers.
"I'm sorry I don't coerce them into signing away their souls, like the likes of you," I retort, although my voice shakes audibly. The woman turns slowly, lifting my hand off her shoulder with shaking fingers of her own. Her eyes have a fear in them that Brusci can detect.
"You're a disgrace to our species, Sucky," Brusci shouts. Wings flapping, he soars forward, slamming down just in front of me. Swallowing hard, I shove my devotee behind me. "You give us a bad name, one of wimps and cowards. I should finish you off here and now, so you don't spoil our reputation any further."
Then he lands a hard punch that flies into my jaw, sending me stumbling backward. Marie is knocked to the ground, shrieking, but her broken nose quickly reshapes itself. Muttering under my breath, I wipe my face and raise my hands to the sky, beginning an ancient chant. "Aww, summoning your little friends?" Brusci mocks. "You'll never be able to call enough groupies to save you--not even if there are a thousand of that little old crone."
*"Ad me, amici,"* I chant, *"ad me*.*"* Then I turn to the demon, courage returning. "That's the thing, Brusci. Not everyone is like little Marie here, who just wished for immortality. There's also..."
But before I can finish, the ground shakes, and a hulking fist slams through the asphalt. Blue veins bulge, pumping blood to the massive muscles I created. Carl's deep voice resounds through the suburb, roaring so loud that Marie breaks into a grin. *"Who has insulted my master?"*
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*Everybody deserves a second chance.*
It's a heady feeling, the surge of power that flows into the body at the point of emergence. You take some time to absorb all of it, makes it easier to do whatever the summoner wanted.
It was woman this time, of slight build, pale with blood loss, hard eyes set in a determined face, her nervousness betrayed by the quick looks she gives around the clearing in the woods. The runnels of blood that she let flow from her cut wrists stopped as you waved an arm and closed the wounds. And you ask her wish.
*How nostalgic. You think, as you look around while materialising.*
*You remember the woods where you fell, the searing pain at your shoulders, the horrified looks she gave when she understood what you'd done. Her eyes had determination in them too, to save you. Some way or the other.*
*But as new awareness bloomed in your mind, both of you knew that you would never see each other again after you finish transforming. Sadness replaced disbelief and you sit down with her to talk, one last time.*
"Please, they burned my sister. Kill them, kill them all!"
"Understood. To confirm, by all, you mean them and their families I take it? Any minimum age or you want me to kill all their brood as well?"
"I... What? NO, no, just the men there...", her voice trailed away as you start detailing what you do, and that the families of the men she is killing will know what did it and come after her.
"... do you still want to go ahead? You can change the wish of course, but I think you already know I can't resurrect the dead."
"Can... can I talk to her again? Maybe see her one more time?", she finally said, tears mixing into the dried blood at her feet.
You smiled, and started working. There was enough blood for that wish to be easy. "10 minutes", you say, and you set up the call.
*Time was running out, and both of you could clearly see how much is left by the fading halo over your head. You didn't need to explain, she knew why you did it. One insignificant life, at the cost of yours.*
*She was standing now, tears in her eyes as she said that she'll keep looking for a way for you to come back. She didn't berate you for what you did, you and her were the same, in that sense. It was a bad day, and you knew that she wouldn't not be able to stop and interfere. And you fell.*
You're back down again. The looks of amusement and ridicule your fellow demons give you used to be pretty bad sometimes, but that was all it did, since no one can interfere with what you do. Demons are a selfish lot but the rules are strict about that at least.
The more you twist the wish, especially if the summoner uses someone else's blood, the more power you can have. But that didn't interest you any more than their amusements of interfering with humanity.
Time didn't exist in the same way, down here. The millions of followers you have is but a drop in the ocean compared to the quintillion lives throughout all of Time. So there was no jealousy, only amusement at your in the end futile attempts to keep saving people. You're just one of the few who're not there for power.
*Everybody deserves a second chance.*
But you remember her words. And you keep fighting.
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[WP] You're the laughing stock of the Underworld, but on Earth your reputation attracts followers willing to betray everything. You're the only demon to uphold their side of the bargain, no strings attached.
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"Great Lord Soku," the woman breathes, hair brushing the floor as she lowers her head, "I'll do anything for a taste of immortality. I'll lie, I'll murder, I'll give up my very soul, only to spare myself the pain that comes with--"
"Don't be so dramatic," I sigh, picking at a grain of ash stuck under one of my razor-sharp nails.
Face streaked with tears, the woman lifts her head, awe and confusion passing over her wrinkled face. "Great Lord Soku?"
"You cults should really do your research first," I continue, wringing my massive hands and extending one toward her. "I don't *want* anything from you, but if you're going to be around all those millions of years, at least join my entourage. And if you don't want to exist past the heat death of the universe, do a chore for my every now and then, and we can call it even. Sound fair?"
I never sought out the relief of my devotees that comes with the loose terms of my pacts, but it comes without fail, fast and sudden. The old woman leaps to her feet, bowing vigorously, a crooked smile plastered onto her lips. "What will be my first task, Great Lord Soku? However I can repay my great debt, I will--"
"*Again* with the dramatics." I roll my eyes. Then, with a wave of my hand (and its ash-free fingernails), I grant the woman at least three million more years of life. A purple aura, of sorts, rushes down her from head to toe, making her gasp. Then the light recedes, and although the woman appears unchanged, I know she'll live for eons to come. "Now. If you could escort me out of here, that'd be great."
"Of course!" the woman shouts, leaping past me to throw open the door. Following behind her, I duck underneath the doorway and step out into the suburban cul-de-sac, automatic lamps illuminating an empty street. The woman peers left and right, arms spread wide in a defensive stance as she cautiously leads me down the street. Seeing her so perky--more alive than in any of the decades I've observed her--makes me chuckle. The other demons may mock me for my loose, 'cowardly' methods, but it does give me some gratification to give my devotees such purpose.
"Excellent work, Sucky," growls a disembodied jeer, echoing over the empty streets. "You've treated yet another of your groupies to the gift of paranoia."
The woman leaps into the air at least six inches (not a feat of immortality, but fright) and takes several rapid spins. "Who's there?" she howls. "No one will mock Great Lord Soku!"
"Calm down, Marie," I warn her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Brusci, come out."
A set of horns appears in the air, then a snout-like face materializes just below them. Brusci's wings come just before his back, sharp talons forming at their ends. Bulging muscles and a twelve-pack follow, finished off by a pair of bulging thighs that are the demon's most prized possession. Brusci crosses his arms, peering down at me with a smirk of superiority. "Never were brave enough to set good terms, were you?" he sneers.
"I'm sorry I don't coerce them into signing away their souls, like the likes of you," I retort, although my voice shakes audibly. The woman turns slowly, lifting my hand off her shoulder with shaking fingers of her own. Her eyes have a fear in them that Brusci can detect.
"You're a disgrace to our species, Sucky," Brusci shouts. Wings flapping, he soars forward, slamming down just in front of me. Swallowing hard, I shove my devotee behind me. "You give us a bad name, one of wimps and cowards. I should finish you off here and now, so you don't spoil our reputation any further."
Then he lands a hard punch that flies into my jaw, sending me stumbling backward. Marie is knocked to the ground, shrieking, but her broken nose quickly reshapes itself. Muttering under my breath, I wipe my face and raise my hands to the sky, beginning an ancient chant. "Aww, summoning your little friends?" Brusci mocks. "You'll never be able to call enough groupies to save you--not even if there are a thousand of that little old crone."
*"Ad me, amici,"* I chant, *"ad me*.*"* Then I turn to the demon, courage returning. "That's the thing, Brusci. Not everyone is like little Marie here, who just wished for immortality. There's also..."
But before I can finish, the ground shakes, and a hulking fist slams through the asphalt. Blue veins bulge, pumping blood to the massive muscles I created. Carl's deep voice resounds through the suburb, roaring so loud that Marie breaks into a grin. *"Who has insulted my master?"*
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The Hall of Demons is perhaps the largest room in hell. Or that’s what is told, and nobody would even think of arguing against Lucifer. Hell is, after all, a separate dimension, domain, that can be stretched as big as needed. All those billions of damned souls need to go somewhere.
And yet it’s that particular hall where the greatest of demons would gather, or most spiteful for those who have lost their souls without even getting what they paid their soul for. It’s the hall where the demons tell their stories of how they managed to deceive yet another human in a most humiliating way. Sometimes the most awe-inspiring moments for other demons are those tiny details that ended up deceiving the human. Whether it was a single letter in a contract that changed the context entirely… or changing the situation ever so slightly that the request is no longer possible or is entirely invalid.
Yet every time I open the door, the room turns quiet for a moment as all of the demons look at me. But it’s not out of awe or jealousy. It’s with disgust and hatred. For them, the fact that I am amongst the hundred of the best soul-gathering demons is something they can barely bear. After all, I’m the only demon who actually keeps my end of the deals.
I enter the hall and manage to pass a few tables before I get called out by an old friend of mine. “Ozroch,” he says.
I stop after I have taken a few steps past their table. I clench my fist and tell myself to be my usual self. I cannot let them see through me. Not today.
“Azzathad!” I say, turning around slowly and clapping my hand together. “You’re as ugly as ever!”
He snorts. “Please, keep your flattery to yourself. I’ve divorced twice already. I saw you climbed in ranks again?”
I open my eyes wide, pretending to be surprised, but also making it very obvious. “What? You can read? I thought nobody taught you how to read?” There is a chuckle in the room. Despite them hating me for my ways of damning the souls honestly, they still enjoy the ice we apply on each other. After a short pause, I chuckle to myself. “Yes, around sixty years ago I damned a whole syndicate, helping them to become the most influential familia in the town. But unline you who like to damn them immediately, I left them be and waited for my payday. They all will die, eventually, Azzathad.”
Azzathad lands his large first on the table, that would normally break any table… except tables in this hall. Lucifer knew very well that he needed to create… quite powerful tables here. He spits in front of me. “There is no deception in your methods. It’s… disgusting. There is no…”
I smile. “There is no what? Honor?” I start laughing, especially loud to annoy everyone. “I am sorry Azzathad for overtaking you in ranking. I guess that makes you… my bitch?”
I turn my back to him and continue walking away. “Well, if it’s so shameful, maybe you should go and deceive harder? Find some simple folk. After all, you fail to damn lawyers, unlike me…”
“In fact…” I say loudly as I stand on the podium in front of everyone… There’s sudden attention, and not because I’m talking, but because I broke the most damn rule in hell. Breaking that rule will damn me. And that makes them, for once, smile, thinking that they could finally get rid of me. I stepped on the podium that only Lucifer is allowed to stand on. “...you all should get your shit together.”
It’s Dogiril who stands up and snorts. “Your life is now forfeit. Your words mean nothing.”
I chuckle. “Lucifer is dead.”
There is a moment of silence. Then wild laughter bursts out. I laugh with them, for a short moment.
“You want to say that you… number… what was it again… sixty… killed Lucifer?” Dogiril says. “I’m number one, and even I would never even try anything like that.”
“Remember what Lucifer told us a not too long time ago? Only the strongest deserve to rule! And… I’m the strongest.” I sit down on Lucifer’s throne which silences everyone.
“This is not funny, Ozroth. Stand up, or I will force it. Don’t you dare to dirty his throne!” Dogiril says.
“There’s one reason why none of you could ever defeat Lucifer. And that’s by design. You all deceive, fucking over your clients. That makes you untrustworthy and every client that comes here damns you for eternity.” There’s a moment of chuckles. “I know-I know. It’s a compliment for most of you. But you see, I do not. And most souls who come here, happy that they got their end of the deal… do not hate me. In fact, they worship me… they are willing to do anything I ask. After all, now that they are here, why wouldn’t they want a better life here… and they know that I will deliver.
The door opens and thousands of souls -- small demons -- enter the chamber, starting to circle the room. And for the first time in my lifetime, I saw a spark of something I’ve been waiting for my entire life. All the demons had fear in their eyes. “We all can give the souls we damn some power. Make them our underlings. But none of you do it, because you cannot trust anyone. So you keep the power for yourself. But I have an army. I might be weaker than you, but try to defeat an army of million lesser demons!”
I stand up, walk to the door that leads to Lucifer’s room… no… my room, and enter it. I don’t need to see it. Hearing their screams is enough -- music to my ears.
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[WP] You're the laughing stock of the Underworld, but on Earth your reputation attracts followers willing to betray everything. You're the only demon to uphold their side of the bargain, no strings attached.
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"Great Lord Soku," the woman breathes, hair brushing the floor as she lowers her head, "I'll do anything for a taste of immortality. I'll lie, I'll murder, I'll give up my very soul, only to spare myself the pain that comes with--"
"Don't be so dramatic," I sigh, picking at a grain of ash stuck under one of my razor-sharp nails.
Face streaked with tears, the woman lifts her head, awe and confusion passing over her wrinkled face. "Great Lord Soku?"
"You cults should really do your research first," I continue, wringing my massive hands and extending one toward her. "I don't *want* anything from you, but if you're going to be around all those millions of years, at least join my entourage. And if you don't want to exist past the heat death of the universe, do a chore for my every now and then, and we can call it even. Sound fair?"
I never sought out the relief of my devotees that comes with the loose terms of my pacts, but it comes without fail, fast and sudden. The old woman leaps to her feet, bowing vigorously, a crooked smile plastered onto her lips. "What will be my first task, Great Lord Soku? However I can repay my great debt, I will--"
"*Again* with the dramatics." I roll my eyes. Then, with a wave of my hand (and its ash-free fingernails), I grant the woman at least three million more years of life. A purple aura, of sorts, rushes down her from head to toe, making her gasp. Then the light recedes, and although the woman appears unchanged, I know she'll live for eons to come. "Now. If you could escort me out of here, that'd be great."
"Of course!" the woman shouts, leaping past me to throw open the door. Following behind her, I duck underneath the doorway and step out into the suburban cul-de-sac, automatic lamps illuminating an empty street. The woman peers left and right, arms spread wide in a defensive stance as she cautiously leads me down the street. Seeing her so perky--more alive than in any of the decades I've observed her--makes me chuckle. The other demons may mock me for my loose, 'cowardly' methods, but it does give me some gratification to give my devotees such purpose.
"Excellent work, Sucky," growls a disembodied jeer, echoing over the empty streets. "You've treated yet another of your groupies to the gift of paranoia."
The woman leaps into the air at least six inches (not a feat of immortality, but fright) and takes several rapid spins. "Who's there?" she howls. "No one will mock Great Lord Soku!"
"Calm down, Marie," I warn her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Brusci, come out."
A set of horns appears in the air, then a snout-like face materializes just below them. Brusci's wings come just before his back, sharp talons forming at their ends. Bulging muscles and a twelve-pack follow, finished off by a pair of bulging thighs that are the demon's most prized possession. Brusci crosses his arms, peering down at me with a smirk of superiority. "Never were brave enough to set good terms, were you?" he sneers.
"I'm sorry I don't coerce them into signing away their souls, like the likes of you," I retort, although my voice shakes audibly. The woman turns slowly, lifting my hand off her shoulder with shaking fingers of her own. Her eyes have a fear in them that Brusci can detect.
"You're a disgrace to our species, Sucky," Brusci shouts. Wings flapping, he soars forward, slamming down just in front of me. Swallowing hard, I shove my devotee behind me. "You give us a bad name, one of wimps and cowards. I should finish you off here and now, so you don't spoil our reputation any further."
Then he lands a hard punch that flies into my jaw, sending me stumbling backward. Marie is knocked to the ground, shrieking, but her broken nose quickly reshapes itself. Muttering under my breath, I wipe my face and raise my hands to the sky, beginning an ancient chant. "Aww, summoning your little friends?" Brusci mocks. "You'll never be able to call enough groupies to save you--not even if there are a thousand of that little old crone."
*"Ad me, amici,"* I chant, *"ad me*.*"* Then I turn to the demon, courage returning. "That's the thing, Brusci. Not everyone is like little Marie here, who just wished for immortality. There's also..."
But before I can finish, the ground shakes, and a hulking fist slams through the asphalt. Blue veins bulge, pumping blood to the massive muscles I created. Carl's deep voice resounds through the suburb, roaring so loud that Marie breaks into a grin. *"Who has insulted my master?"*
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# Soulmage
"***They have gone by many names, over the course of their existence.*** *Scholars name them The Dealmaker. Demons call them a fool. But those who they reach out to know them by one name only: Odin." —A Compilation of Essays on the Demonic Form, Laiwen Shannel et al. 103 AR.*
The Silent Academy for Witches held knowledge on every conceivable topic, even one as taboo as demonology. Granted, most of it was restricted, and it was all heavily biased against anything from outside the Silent Peaks, but if there was something I could honestly say I'd benefitted from during my stay in the Academy, it was the massive reservoir of knowledge that was the Library.
*"When soulspace entities first crossed through the rifts, humanity encountered The Dealmaker. Legends say that as a Demon of Empathy, they consider harming one whom they've bonded with to be harming themself, and as a result, will never renege on a deal if they have the option." —Musings on Primitive Mythology, Kanne, 2 AR.*
The classes that I'd taken on how to properly research something—say, the name of a demon—had come in handy, too. With Lucet as my research partner checking out books for me, I made index cards and mind mazes and all the lovely organizational techniques Witch Aimes had drilled into me. Bit by bit, like pulling the spines of a star-cactus from bleeding palms, I extracted the drops of restricted knowledge that I was able to access on the entity known as Odin. A demon. A dealmaker. A person of their word, no matter how terrible that word was.
*"Despite a century of accumulated empathic experience, Odin is not truly human. Their approximation of the humanoid mind is flawed, at best, and what they truly desire is often difficult to discern." Are Demons Truly Alive?, Daiol Utennt, 80 AR.*
The texts I had access to were frustratingly vague, and sometimes I went days without finding anything useful. But I had to know. I had to know what The Dealmaker wanted with me when he'd showed up in my dreams.
I had to know what would happen now that I'd refused.
*"The Dealmaker has gathered a cult following among mortals in the years since the rifts began. Their pattern is familiar and simple: they target those shunned by society and offer them something they cannot get anywhere else." The Case for Minority Re-Education, Falo Chentrenne, 120 AR.*
I snapped the book shut and stood, stretching. It had been weeks since my research project had begun, slogging through texts that were half-academic, half-propaganda. My back still ached and I had to visit the nurse twice daily, but school at the Silent Academy for Witches was on midyear break. I had no pressing obligations at the moment.
So it was time to pay a visit to an old friend.
Lucet was trying not to make Iola any angrier than he already was, so she was staying in the dorms—and even if I didn't agree with her, I sure as hell wasn't going to force her to change her mind. I didn't exactly have any other friends in the Academy, so after a quick dunk in the showers, I wrapped myself up to protect against the snow and left the Academy grounds alone.
Jiaola's house wasn't far. The old witch had built it right smack in the center of the Silent City. It was as if he and his husband were giving a massive "fuck you, we exist and we are here" to the Silent Parliament every day they continued outliving the government that had wanted them "re-educated."
There was a reason I liked Jiaola.
Small animals turned their heads as I passed, but I ignored them. I was on break; the Academy had no hold over me. They could stalk me all they wanted through the eyes of crows and blink-kittens. They might disapprove of me, but they already did.
I knocked on Jiaola's firm, old door—real wood, imported from the Redlands—and waited as Jiaola called "Coming!" A moment later, the old witch's wrinkled but unbroken smile greeted me as he opened the door.
"Cienne!" Jiaola's eyes twinkled merrily. "Come in, come in! Here to beat me at Kingmaker again?"
As much as I wanted to continue our board-game tournament, I had more pressing matters to work out. I shook my head. "Not this time, old man. We should take this inside."
Jiaola's gaze sharpened, and he reflexively swept the street with both eyes and soul. "Understood. Do you want to use the safe room, or...?"
I shook my head. "No use burning all those enchants. We can just talk in the living room."
Jiaola nodded and shuffled aside, letting me in before shutting the door. "What can an old bat like me help you with?"
I bit my lip, then leaned in and whispered, "Have you ever been contacted by a demon called Odin?"
Jiaola froze.
Then he let out a weary sigh. "So they've reached out to you as well?"
I nodded. "They wanted to use me as... some kind of champion? They promised to take me away from the Academy, at the very least." Which I wouldn't mind in and of itself, to be honest—I stayed at the Academy because I had nowhere else to go if I wanted to get food and shelter. "And from what I've heard, they're good for their word."
"They are," Jiaola said, eyes focusing on something I couldn't see. "I haven't thought about Odin in years, but... yes. The Dealmaker gave me what I wished for."
I didn't ask what Jiaola had been given. The old man would tell me if it was relevant.
"So if the Dealmaker's taking you out of the Academy..." Jiaola raised an eyebrow. "Is this the last time we'll see each other?"
I shook my head. "I turned their offer down."
Jiaola did a double-take. "You *what?*"
I did *not* like that reaction. "Yeah, actually, that's what I came here to ask you. I couldn't find anything in the library on what happens when Odin gets refused—"
"Cienne—*argh*!" For the first time since I'd met the witch, he seemed genuinely afraid. "You don't get it. The Dealmaker upholds their end of the offers they make, always, no exceptions. *Even when the person in question doesn't accept the deal.*"
Oh.
Oh, *fuck.*
Jiaola grabbed my arm, steel in his eyes. "Get yourself into the safe room. I'll notify the city guard. If Odin said they were taking you out of the Academy, then Odin's coming to take you out of the Academy."
He paused as he reached the door, then turned around, his gaze intense as it met mine.
"The Dealmaker is coming for you, Cienne. Stay strong."
And with that, the old witch turned to the street and sounded the alarm.
A.N.
Soulmage will be episodically updated. Want to know what happens next? Check out [this post](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/comments/uxmwe4/soulmage_masterpost/) to be notified whenever a new part comes out, and check out r/bubblewriters for more stories by me.
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[WP] You're the laughing stock of the Underworld, but on Earth your reputation attracts followers willing to betray everything. You're the only demon to uphold their side of the bargain, no strings attached.
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"Great Lord Soku," the woman breathes, hair brushing the floor as she lowers her head, "I'll do anything for a taste of immortality. I'll lie, I'll murder, I'll give up my very soul, only to spare myself the pain that comes with--"
"Don't be so dramatic," I sigh, picking at a grain of ash stuck under one of my razor-sharp nails.
Face streaked with tears, the woman lifts her head, awe and confusion passing over her wrinkled face. "Great Lord Soku?"
"You cults should really do your research first," I continue, wringing my massive hands and extending one toward her. "I don't *want* anything from you, but if you're going to be around all those millions of years, at least join my entourage. And if you don't want to exist past the heat death of the universe, do a chore for my every now and then, and we can call it even. Sound fair?"
I never sought out the relief of my devotees that comes with the loose terms of my pacts, but it comes without fail, fast and sudden. The old woman leaps to her feet, bowing vigorously, a crooked smile plastered onto her lips. "What will be my first task, Great Lord Soku? However I can repay my great debt, I will--"
"*Again* with the dramatics." I roll my eyes. Then, with a wave of my hand (and its ash-free fingernails), I grant the woman at least three million more years of life. A purple aura, of sorts, rushes down her from head to toe, making her gasp. Then the light recedes, and although the woman appears unchanged, I know she'll live for eons to come. "Now. If you could escort me out of here, that'd be great."
"Of course!" the woman shouts, leaping past me to throw open the door. Following behind her, I duck underneath the doorway and step out into the suburban cul-de-sac, automatic lamps illuminating an empty street. The woman peers left and right, arms spread wide in a defensive stance as she cautiously leads me down the street. Seeing her so perky--more alive than in any of the decades I've observed her--makes me chuckle. The other demons may mock me for my loose, 'cowardly' methods, but it does give me some gratification to give my devotees such purpose.
"Excellent work, Sucky," growls a disembodied jeer, echoing over the empty streets. "You've treated yet another of your groupies to the gift of paranoia."
The woman leaps into the air at least six inches (not a feat of immortality, but fright) and takes several rapid spins. "Who's there?" she howls. "No one will mock Great Lord Soku!"
"Calm down, Marie," I warn her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Brusci, come out."
A set of horns appears in the air, then a snout-like face materializes just below them. Brusci's wings come just before his back, sharp talons forming at their ends. Bulging muscles and a twelve-pack follow, finished off by a pair of bulging thighs that are the demon's most prized possession. Brusci crosses his arms, peering down at me with a smirk of superiority. "Never were brave enough to set good terms, were you?" he sneers.
"I'm sorry I don't coerce them into signing away their souls, like the likes of you," I retort, although my voice shakes audibly. The woman turns slowly, lifting my hand off her shoulder with shaking fingers of her own. Her eyes have a fear in them that Brusci can detect.
"You're a disgrace to our species, Sucky," Brusci shouts. Wings flapping, he soars forward, slamming down just in front of me. Swallowing hard, I shove my devotee behind me. "You give us a bad name, one of wimps and cowards. I should finish you off here and now, so you don't spoil our reputation any further."
Then he lands a hard punch that flies into my jaw, sending me stumbling backward. Marie is knocked to the ground, shrieking, but her broken nose quickly reshapes itself. Muttering under my breath, I wipe my face and raise my hands to the sky, beginning an ancient chant. "Aww, summoning your little friends?" Brusci mocks. "You'll never be able to call enough groupies to save you--not even if there are a thousand of that little old crone."
*"Ad me, amici,"* I chant, *"ad me*.*"* Then I turn to the demon, courage returning. "That's the thing, Brusci. Not everyone is like little Marie here, who just wished for immortality. There's also..."
But before I can finish, the ground shakes, and a hulking fist slams through the asphalt. Blue veins bulge, pumping blood to the massive muscles I created. Carl's deep voice resounds through the suburb, roaring so loud that Marie breaks into a grin. *"Who has insulted my master?"*
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"Demon, I have come to make a bargain" the man declared, striding in to my lair. "I wish to-"
"Sir, please take a number and I'll be right with you" I interrupted him, not looking up from my scroll.
The man stopped in the lobby of my office, with a confused look on his face. "I... what?"
I pointed to the ticket dispenser by the desk with my demonic tail. "Take a number and go to the waiting room, I'll call you when its your turn."
"...ok..." the man said, puzzled. He grabbed a ticket from the red dispenser, and squinted at the number printed on its surface. "666?"
I glanced up from my desk. "Purely coincidental, I assure you. Waiting room is down the hall here, there's coffee and snacks if you'd like." I put down my Tyrannosaurus Rex feather quill and pushed one of the buttons on the desk phone. "Number 644, your contract is ready. Number 644, please come to the front desk."
The man looked shocked. "There's 22 more people in front of me?"
"Yes sir, there are" I said in an increasingly frustrated tone. "Now go wait or come back tomorrow morning. You can also submit your bargain online and e-sign the document."
An old woman emerged from the waiting room, waiving her ticket before her. "Did you say 644?" She asked.
"Yes mam! One contract ready, trading your soul for your grandchildren's prosperity. No strings attached, with a soul-back guarantee."
The woman approached the chair on the opposite side of my desk. "Would you excuse me, please?" She asked the man politely.
The man finally seemed to grasp the concept of my business model, and walked down the hallway to settle down for his wait.
I turned back to the woman and smiled, showing my sharpened demonic teeth as I adjusted my silk tie. "So, Phyllis" I said, sliding the goat-skin parchment across the desk. "Please review the contract, then sign here, here and here" I said, indicating each spot with my pointed tail.
The woman reached for the quill. I pit a hand gently in front of it, blocking her hand. "Please, read it over first. I know my reputation preceeds me, but I insist you know what you're signing."
Phyllis complied, putting on a thick set of spectacles and bending towards the scroll. I waved a hand and lifted the page within easy reading distance, black tendrils of demonic smoke holding it aloft. "Oh my, such a gentleman, thank you" she said.
After a minute or so of reading the paragraph long contract, she removed her glasses and smiled. "Precisely what I asked for! Thank you so much."
I grinned. I had practiced making the human expression without malice behind it, and I think I mastered it after mere decades. "You're welcome. Please sign when you're ready."
I offered Phyllis one of the guest quills I kept by the desk. My T-Rex feather quill was real T-Rex, it had cost more souls than I collected in a month.
She took the proffered seagull feather quill, and looked for something to dip it in. "Do... do I need to use my blood?" She showed the first signs of fear in the transaction.
I smiled reassuringly. "No ma'am, we use donor blood. Close enough in my books." I indicated the small inkwell with a gesture.
Shortly after, I was escorting Phyllis to the door, helping her down the short flight of stairs to the parking lot. A nervous man greeted her, guiding her to the waiting nursing home shuttle bus with "Shady Acres Retirement Home" stenciled across the side.
I returned to my desk, and advanced the ticket counter by one. "Now serving number 645, number 645." I released the intercom button and awaited my next client. I was glad I had chosen this old building for my office. The DMV before me had installed so many useful features.
Plus, it was always good to make things feel a bit less evil than how you found them.
r/SlightlyColdStories for more. I was told to make this library, so I didn't have to forward a link to my wife every time I finished a new one.
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[WP] You are an anonymous self-employed assassin. On streaming sites, you select the top person on the poll of criminals who avoided the law, stream the hunt for them, recite their evil deeds, and kill them when the majority of viewers votes to execute. One day, your real name is on top of the poll.
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"All rise for the Honorable Judge Vindicus."
The intoduction audio clip signaled to the anonymous audience the start of a new stream. Only, as some viewers noted, something was different. Nowhere to be seen, as before, the preparations for a night's hunt. No weapons, no new place, no cameras on suspect networks. Just an empty chair, devoid of the accused.
"All be seated."
Then, the Judge revealed himself; sporting black tactical gear, and his trademark white mask. He sat in the chair, with a pistol in one hand, and a remote in the other. The chat exploded with an equal part of confused questions and practiced memes.
"Now, then, I suppose it is time to get started. Today will be a bit different than we're used to, as there have been some significant changes on the List recently."
The List; an unofficial website quoing the official UN listing for the world's most dangerous and distasteful villains. Where the next of the Accused would be selected to be judged; and, more often than not, executed. The Judge sat silent for a minute, for both buffering and effect, before clicking a button on the remote. The screen splits, still showing the Judge, but revealing the List as well.
Again, the chat exploded into a blur of confusion and anger, as.the top of the List read: "Judge Vindicus".
"Order! I will have order in my Court!" The Judge warns sternly, though there is a chuckle beneath it. "Now, as you can see, it seems our dear friends at the UN have decided they've had enough of me. I suppose three-dozen Judgements is just one too many. As such, seeing as I am the Accused, I cannot be my own Judge; so we shall once again have a trial by jury. Let us begin!"
Clicking through a presentation, the Judge calmly presents the evidence. "Over the past five years, the Accused has been charged with the murder of thirty-six people. Thirty-six men and women. I will remind that, while the Accused was acting as Executioner of the Court, and all thirty-six people were guilty of crimes of their own, that this Court is one of Vengeance and True Justice, and is not recognized by any legal authority."
He pauses, again, then continues. "However, the deaths of the thirty-six the Accused is accused of murdering *have* brought positive change in the world. At the lower echelons, the death of one Johnson Doe II, previous CEO of PriviTech Inc., revealed an underage sex trafficking ring within the industry, which more...*certified* Courts were able to crack down upon with impunity, without his protection. At the higher echelons, the death of one Abimbola Zádor, warlord to a region of Africa, saw the fall of a petty local government, a raise of a rebellion, and a formation of a jewel of democracy in a harsh land."
Judge Vindicus perused through his crimes, pausing now and again for the chat. He covered each of the thirty-six deceased in detail, halfway between a Court show of evidence, and a reminiscing montage. Once finished, the chat riled up, he clicked the remote once again. A prompt to all viewers, to vote: **Guilty** or **Not Guilty**?
Overwhelmingly, the chat voted "Guilty", to which Judge Vindicus chuckled happily to.
"My, what an honor to be Judged by so many souls bound by justice. You, who do not let fandom blind you. You, who know what justice means. Now then, Jury, what is your verdict?"
He clicked the remote again, and put the pistol to his head. The chat was given two options, again:
**DEATH** or **FREEDOM**?
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The movies and Holo-vids never show just how much preparation goes into it.
The gear. The stakeouts. The planning.
It takes weeks to set up the kill.
Vera twisted the suppressor onto her 1911, and it attached with a click. Magazine check, press check. Stuffed it back underneath her coat jacket, into her shoulder holster.
No sniping for this mission. More viewers, more subscribers when she gets up close and personal. The masses love to see the victim's face when he eats it. Direct feed streamed straight from her optics through encrypted channels onto specialized and heavily vetted streaming sites. Bloodthirsty gladiator arenas of the 2100s for the privileged and depraved.
She strode up to the glass tower of chrome, a 100 floor eyesore of Corporate hegemony sticking out of the ground and into the acid-rain laden clouds like an overgrown tumor.
She tapped a button at the side of her head, and her skin started refracting light. Eventually, her skin was a blurry opaque blur, and her clothes similarly dissipated from view.
If someone were to pay attention, they'd notice an elevator called down and head up to the 100th floor with nobody inside.
She popped in an orange octagon. Methamphetamine tablet. Speed, concentration booster. Fear and anxiety eliminated.
Breathe...
Elevator opens out into an especially lavish private office that was more of a penthouse than anything. Art fixtures placed at every corner of the floor-sprawling office. Artificial waterfalls placed at the edges of the room, overgrown bonsai plants verdant green. So much water, used for vain decoration while the masses below killed and paid through the nose just for a cup of the stuff.
Her boots lightly thudded across the carpet. Quietly. She inched forward, heels raised.
Quick glance at the stream chat. They're getting excited now. Telling her to do this and that to the mark. Telling her to show them some skin. Some of them talking about their weekend plans, or how they just got home from work and were glad to make it in time for the kill stream climax, after weeks of just prep streams. She waved the chat away from her HUD with a flick of the finger.
Two corporate sentries posted up in front of the baroque carved door. The masses deemed them exposable. So she got to work.
First one went down gurgling, silenced bullet ripping a hole through his throat. Second one rushed forward glancing around and seeing no more than a rushing blur of refracted light before getting her neck snapped, eyes rolled up.
All in the span of about 5 seconds.
Glance again at the chat. Roaring in approval. Emojis flooding the chatbox. A few complaints here and there about having seen her kill in that way before already.
Close out.
She kicked down the doors.
A man was sat behind a chrome desk, talking to someone on his VidPhone. His eyes glowing blue, and a blue prosthetic arm typed away at a mile a minute on a holographic keyboard. He glanced up at the broken down doors, cigarette dropping from his mouth, mouth agape with shock.
"What the fuck?" He sputtered. "Sh- show yourself. Who are you? What do you want?"
Vera deactivated her active camo, and light slowly found her once more. She materialized right in front of him, silenced barrel pressed right up against his forehead.
Trying to fight the shakes, he held up his hands. Plastered a thin smile across his artificially handsome features. "Hey now. I'm sure we can work something out. Whoever's paying you - I can triple it." He immediately dived into negotiations, and it's clear it's never their first rodeo when it comes to guys like these.
Vera quickly checks the Kill Meter. An overwhelming vote of 95% KILL to 5% SPARE, not that she expected anything different. The viewers were here for one thing - Snuff. Gore. Violence. The real kind. Not the SaimanCorp HOLO bullshit.
"Nobody's paying me." She said, then projected a list out in front of him in large print.
"What do you mean-" Confident smile takes on an uncertain edge, mouth frowned, eyes tinged with fear.
"Your crimes are the following." She cut him off, reading from the holographic list. "Human trafficking, multiple counts of homicides of undocumented sex workers, and unethical human experimentation leading to death and disfigurement."
"Pr-proof! You have no proof!"
"Oh, but I do. The police do too, except you paid them off." She projected several dossiers and files onto the air next to the list, and flipped through pages of police reports, tabloid magazine articles, video camera clips, all pointing towards him as the culprit. "So it's up to me to make things right."
She checked again at the chat and kill score.
"The people demand your execution." She said bluntly.
"Wai-"
She squeezed the trigger.
His head rocked backward with a jolt, collided with the leather backrest of his chair, then lolled limply as his body slid down a few inches on his chair. A brown stain started showing through his white suit pants, legs trickled with piss.
Glance at the chat - cheering, subscriptions coming in, donations and credits wired in at a breakneck pace.
No prints on the gun - she'd worn gloves. Disassembled the gun in less than 5 seconds, escaped through the fire exit, skipped the stairs, jumping down one floor at a time by falling from railing to railing, cybernetic hands and fingers giving her superhuman grip. She threw the disassembled gun pieces in random alleyways as she made her departure, and threw the last pieces into the nearby bay. Another clean job - only the target and his bodyguards dead.
..
"Thanks for watching guys... Be back tomorrow at the usual time." She spoke to her chat, while sat on the ground and leaned against the wall of her sparsely decorated and spartan apartment. Upper's worn off, and she felt the crash sapping away her energy. She clicked off the camera feed from her optics, and shut down the stream. Made enough for several month's rent from that run.
Shaky hands reached inside a coat pocket and fished out a stale cigarette. She lit up and tried to alleviate the drug comedown with nicotine. An airship flew by overhead, rattling the cramped apartment and sending dust scattering down from the low ceiling. Neon red and blue peeked through the Venetian blinds of the window just above her head.
A framed photo was put facedown on a nearby shelf. A photo of her and her late husband, killed by a Corpo exec for looking at her the wrong way. She got away with it, greasing the cops and judges with funds from numbered Swiss accounts. Vera died that day, too. What remained was a machine. A husk. Controlled by chat, and living to kill.
[Continued in a second comment due to character limits]
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[WP] Like an old noir film, the detective walks into a bar to gather information on their case. But the detective gets changed into work attire and stands behind the counter. Turns out being the bartender is much more effective than just asking around for information.
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The Corner Bar Confessional
The dame walked in, legs for days, lips that could curse you into a grave or deliver you to heaven, take your pick but be quick about it or she'd chose for you. She took a seat at the bar and lit a smoke. My kingdom to be that bit of tobacco smoke swirling up her cheek.
"Tough night ma'am?" I slid her a bowl of peanuts.
"Scotch, neat." Her low voice hinted at thick sheets and murmured oaths in the dark.
"Tough night indeed." I poured her drink and waited for more words. "Must be a man. Any man that could leave your side long enough to let you order scotch and let you light that cigarette alone, is a fool." I slid her a box of matches with my number on it.
"It's two men. " She smiled and picked up the match book. "One for the living. One for my bed." She fingered the matches and carelessly lit one. "I'm looking for one more if you are interested." I poured a shot for myself and smiled.
After the dame left I called her husband. "Yes, she's cheating on you. That's three hundred. Cash."
\*
Mr. Falcon sat in the corner booth, back to the wall, one pistol in his boot, one in his lap. A lackey sat sweating buckets across the table from Mr. Falcon. I'd be sweating too if I'd dared cross such a personage as Mr. Falcon.
"Where is the case?" Mr. Falcon asked once more as he spun a long length of pasta on his fork.
"I told you I don't know!" More flop sweat escaped this soon to be dead man.
"I'm going to give you to the count of three to tell me, or my associate here is going to search your insides. One. Two -"
"I swear, Mr. Falcon! I don't know. It's just gone!"
"Three." Mr. Falcon's associate dragged the man out of my bar and down the street. A loud bang and that was the end of that sad lackey's life.
"Can I get you anything else?" I asked Mr. Falcon as I cleared the empty bottles away.
"A bottle of champagne." He laughed. "I'm celebrating tying up loose ends." He laughed and toasted me. We shared a glass of bubbly before closing up for the day. I called the commissioner after Mr. Falcon left.
"Yes , sir. He's still got the briefcase. I want that reward in my mailbox tomorrow."
\*
The man in the coat ordered another glass of wine. Nothing could drown you more thoroughly than a deep red in a deep glass. The rain outside pounded on the roof and played a sorrowful accompaniment to his dreary expression. He continued to drown himself in the bottom of the glass.
"Another?"
"And another and another, creeps in this petty pace from day to day." He slurred until finally slumping over the bar. Wine will get you every time. Well, wine and a well placed roofie.
I called up my client. "He's here. Come get him. It's an even five hundred or I wake him up and send him home."
\*
"Look kid, you just don't got it. I've been around the block more times than a twelve year old with a paper route. Go home."
"They say you are the best. Take me on. I can help. I can --"
"I said no, kid." I booted the young gumshoe out of my bar. I had no need of help or extra overhead when my marks came to me and willingly told their tales to a willing ear and an easy pour. Hanging up my trench coat for an apron was my best business move to date. Plus I got tips.
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12/23/1930, Detective Ryan Martins.
Like most people in the police force, I have two jobs. This isn't be choice, it's by requirement. As a detective, you need to get information, and being undercover in general works perfectly. Some work at grocery stores, others work at barber shops, and I work at the local pub. You see, we tried to go around and just ask people questions, but the perpetrator would outsmart us and lead us down a string of lies, hence why we go undercover now. We haven't had to go down a false narrative since.
Today, I am investigating a murder of Alec Snell. He died three days ago, and the town is stuck in shock. We have had a few tips, but since they were all typed, we aren't sure if they are legitimate. They give a few last seen locations. One says that they say Alec in the park just a day before the murder, talking to Brian Simone. Another says they saw him watching a movie just a few hours before the movie, visibly stressed, and again, next to Brian. The last letter says they saw him with Brian, walking into the woods behind their house the morning of the murder.
We knew that Brian has a relatively routine schedule on Friday afternoons. He goes to the cafe at 7 sharp. He takes the 9:00 bus to the barber shop, going in at 9:30. He then goes to the diner for lunch, leaving to walk to do groceries and other errands around 13:00. He gets home around 16:00, eats dinner, then will go to the pub from 19:00 to 21:00.
Today, he was seen doing the same schedule, but instead of being his normal cheerful self, he was clearly depressed. He was crying by the time he walked into the bar, sobbing about Alec's death. I had to feel bad for the man, he was clearly not in a good state of mind.
However, I still had a job to do. I sat Brian down towards the end of the bar, making sure he had the privacy he needed. This was also a signal to the other employees not to disturb me, as I was trying to help someone. I gave him a drink, on the house, hoping it would soften him up. It did, and we got to talking."So... Mind if I ask why you were so attached to Alec?" I asked, trying to use a similar tone and body language to my therapist."He was... He was my best friend- no, more than that. We were there for each other more than our own wives... Hell, we each worked together to get the duplex!" He said, sobbing just after. I sighed, knowing how hard this pain must be."He was... He was getting letters. Some from strangers, some from what claimed to be police. He didn't tell me until after the movies... and..." He burst into tears, his head on the bar like a teenager trying to sleep in class."Why did he do it..." Brian said in tears.
I walked around the bar and gave him a pat on the back. "Why did he do... What? Walk in the woods?"
He looked at me with his watery eyes, flooded with tears. "It wasn't a murder... It was a suicide, Ryan. He killed himself because of those **DAMN** letters." He went back to drinking, hands shaking. "And... Now I have been getting the same letters Alec got."
A suicide? How? What killed Alec was a gunshot, .22 LR, to the skull, not the noose..."The paper said he died to a gunshot, not to himself." I said, looking at Brian. "Are you sure that he killed himself?"He sniffled and wiped away his tears."Yeah... He killed himself. Tied the noose and all. Then a hunter shot him, then realized what he shot." He started to speak softly. I knew this was hard for him, but I had to keep pressing. I was so close to getting the answers I needed."How do you know all this?" I asked, looking at him,"He told me he was going to do it, and before I could do anything, he walked into the woods." Brian looked at the wall blankly. It had a painting of a nearby forest. "He went in there, and I never saw him again. I wish I said something when I had the chance, man... I really do..." Brian looked back at me. I gave him another drink, and after a few hours of him sitting and crying, he finally said something.
"I loved him."
At that point, I realized what was going on, and realized something more important. There was no saving this man, or getting justice for Alec. I wish I could do something, but if I supported the side of a gay man, let alone a gay couple, I'd be killed. I sighed.
"I'm sorry, Brian. I wish I could help, but I can't." I took out my badge and showed it to him. He looked at me, realizing his fate. He looked hopeless."I trusted you, Ryan."
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[WP] Like an old noir film, the detective walks into a bar to gather information on their case. But the detective gets changed into work attire and stands behind the counter. Turns out being the bartender is much more effective than just asking around for information.
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So it was my first day on the job, see. I had heard about how slippery people’s mouths got with a beer in their hand and a down-to-earth bartender to talk to, see. Turns out, their mouths were much slippery than expected.
It had only been an hour on the job when a man walked up to the counter and sighed in my direction, “hey bartender. You know how there are those drug dealings going in the slums?”
I blew a puff of air, “of course, who doesn’t? It’s all over the news, ain’t it?”
They nodded, “you’re right, you’re right. It’s just, sometimes good people get caught up in that sort of stuff.”
“I hear you. My friend had a cousin who got stuck with the wrong crowd, see. Fortunately, they’re still young, they can get off with a slap on the back and pointed in the right direction.”
“I know, I know, I just… I don’t want to be a snitch, see?”
“I see. So you know someone in that crowd.”
“Yeah, my nephew. I tried to confront him about it…”
“Ah, kids… so headstrong.”
“I love the boy too, he reminds me of me when I was young, see.”
“Does he tell anyone where his deals go down?”
“He tells Billy, his brother. Billy and he are close, he wouldn’t spill anything.”
“If you can figure that out, give an anonymous tip to the police to hit the site and a tip to Billy to warn your nephew. He’ll see that if it weren’t for sheer luck, he’d be caught too, that should turn him around.”
“You know, that just might work! Thanks, bartender. You made my day seem a whole lot less rainy.”
“Happy to help, and no need to pay for that drink. It’s on me.”
I probably could have gotten him to put the kid in danger, but he didn’t deserve to get caught up in this. The cops would pull off the drug bust and that was enough for me. It’s crazy how much they confided in me. But confidentiality came with its own troubles. As a cop, having to make the tough decisions meant it was best to stay impartial. Enemies were merely blurred faces, it made pulling the trigger easy. When I knew the story behind them, sometimes it makes me wonder if I’m really doing the right thing.
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12/23/1930, Detective Ryan Martins.
Like most people in the police force, I have two jobs. This isn't be choice, it's by requirement. As a detective, you need to get information, and being undercover in general works perfectly. Some work at grocery stores, others work at barber shops, and I work at the local pub. You see, we tried to go around and just ask people questions, but the perpetrator would outsmart us and lead us down a string of lies, hence why we go undercover now. We haven't had to go down a false narrative since.
Today, I am investigating a murder of Alec Snell. He died three days ago, and the town is stuck in shock. We have had a few tips, but since they were all typed, we aren't sure if they are legitimate. They give a few last seen locations. One says that they say Alec in the park just a day before the murder, talking to Brian Simone. Another says they saw him watching a movie just a few hours before the movie, visibly stressed, and again, next to Brian. The last letter says they saw him with Brian, walking into the woods behind their house the morning of the murder.
We knew that Brian has a relatively routine schedule on Friday afternoons. He goes to the cafe at 7 sharp. He takes the 9:00 bus to the barber shop, going in at 9:30. He then goes to the diner for lunch, leaving to walk to do groceries and other errands around 13:00. He gets home around 16:00, eats dinner, then will go to the pub from 19:00 to 21:00.
Today, he was seen doing the same schedule, but instead of being his normal cheerful self, he was clearly depressed. He was crying by the time he walked into the bar, sobbing about Alec's death. I had to feel bad for the man, he was clearly not in a good state of mind.
However, I still had a job to do. I sat Brian down towards the end of the bar, making sure he had the privacy he needed. This was also a signal to the other employees not to disturb me, as I was trying to help someone. I gave him a drink, on the house, hoping it would soften him up. It did, and we got to talking."So... Mind if I ask why you were so attached to Alec?" I asked, trying to use a similar tone and body language to my therapist."He was... He was my best friend- no, more than that. We were there for each other more than our own wives... Hell, we each worked together to get the duplex!" He said, sobbing just after. I sighed, knowing how hard this pain must be."He was... He was getting letters. Some from strangers, some from what claimed to be police. He didn't tell me until after the movies... and..." He burst into tears, his head on the bar like a teenager trying to sleep in class."Why did he do it..." Brian said in tears.
I walked around the bar and gave him a pat on the back. "Why did he do... What? Walk in the woods?"
He looked at me with his watery eyes, flooded with tears. "It wasn't a murder... It was a suicide, Ryan. He killed himself because of those **DAMN** letters." He went back to drinking, hands shaking. "And... Now I have been getting the same letters Alec got."
A suicide? How? What killed Alec was a gunshot, .22 LR, to the skull, not the noose..."The paper said he died to a gunshot, not to himself." I said, looking at Brian. "Are you sure that he killed himself?"He sniffled and wiped away his tears."Yeah... He killed himself. Tied the noose and all. Then a hunter shot him, then realized what he shot." He started to speak softly. I knew this was hard for him, but I had to keep pressing. I was so close to getting the answers I needed."How do you know all this?" I asked, looking at him,"He told me he was going to do it, and before I could do anything, he walked into the woods." Brian looked at the wall blankly. It had a painting of a nearby forest. "He went in there, and I never saw him again. I wish I said something when I had the chance, man... I really do..." Brian looked back at me. I gave him another drink, and after a few hours of him sitting and crying, he finally said something.
"I loved him."
At that point, I realized what was going on, and realized something more important. There was no saving this man, or getting justice for Alec. I wish I could do something, but if I supported the side of a gay man, let alone a gay couple, I'd be killed. I sighed.
"I'm sorry, Brian. I wish I could help, but I can't." I took out my badge and showed it to him. He looked at me, realizing his fate. He looked hopeless."I trusted you, Ryan."
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[WP] Like an old noir film, the detective walks into a bar to gather information on their case. But the detective gets changed into work attire and stands behind the counter. Turns out being the bartender is much more effective than just asking around for information.
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The Corner Bar Confessional
The dame walked in, legs for days, lips that could curse you into a grave or deliver you to heaven, take your pick but be quick about it or she'd chose for you. She took a seat at the bar and lit a smoke. My kingdom to be that bit of tobacco smoke swirling up her cheek.
"Tough night ma'am?" I slid her a bowl of peanuts.
"Scotch, neat." Her low voice hinted at thick sheets and murmured oaths in the dark.
"Tough night indeed." I poured her drink and waited for more words. "Must be a man. Any man that could leave your side long enough to let you order scotch and let you light that cigarette alone, is a fool." I slid her a box of matches with my number on it.
"It's two men. " She smiled and picked up the match book. "One for the living. One for my bed." She fingered the matches and carelessly lit one. "I'm looking for one more if you are interested." I poured a shot for myself and smiled.
After the dame left I called her husband. "Yes, she's cheating on you. That's three hundred. Cash."
\*
Mr. Falcon sat in the corner booth, back to the wall, one pistol in his boot, one in his lap. A lackey sat sweating buckets across the table from Mr. Falcon. I'd be sweating too if I'd dared cross such a personage as Mr. Falcon.
"Where is the case?" Mr. Falcon asked once more as he spun a long length of pasta on his fork.
"I told you I don't know!" More flop sweat escaped this soon to be dead man.
"I'm going to give you to the count of three to tell me, or my associate here is going to search your insides. One. Two -"
"I swear, Mr. Falcon! I don't know. It's just gone!"
"Three." Mr. Falcon's associate dragged the man out of my bar and down the street. A loud bang and that was the end of that sad lackey's life.
"Can I get you anything else?" I asked Mr. Falcon as I cleared the empty bottles away.
"A bottle of champagne." He laughed. "I'm celebrating tying up loose ends." He laughed and toasted me. We shared a glass of bubbly before closing up for the day. I called the commissioner after Mr. Falcon left.
"Yes , sir. He's still got the briefcase. I want that reward in my mailbox tomorrow."
\*
The man in the coat ordered another glass of wine. Nothing could drown you more thoroughly than a deep red in a deep glass. The rain outside pounded on the roof and played a sorrowful accompaniment to his dreary expression. He continued to drown himself in the bottom of the glass.
"Another?"
"And another and another, creeps in this petty pace from day to day." He slurred until finally slumping over the bar. Wine will get you every time. Well, wine and a well placed roofie.
I called up my client. "He's here. Come get him. It's an even five hundred or I wake him up and send him home."
\*
"Look kid, you just don't got it. I've been around the block more times than a twelve year old with a paper route. Go home."
"They say you are the best. Take me on. I can help. I can --"
"I said no, kid." I booted the young gumshoe out of my bar. I had no need of help or extra overhead when my marks came to me and willingly told their tales to a willing ear and an easy pour. Hanging up my trench coat for an apron was my best business move to date. Plus I got tips.
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"I would like a cherry blossom curly rose brandy with some malte pepper and a cream of villa nueva on top please, oh and on the rocks with a sip of bloody tonga from rio de janeiro, not ripped, thank you"
Ronald Marlow Stevenson, 54, detective from Palo Alto, paused a little before answering.
"Wait, what did you just say ? "
"Are you deaf or dumb ? Where is William, who are you anyway ? "
"William's mother is very sick. I'm helping him out tonight."
Ronald thought for a second about William's inanimate body just under his feet in the basement.
"William's mother ? He is an orphan ! Who the f*ck are you ?"
"I'm Conrad Wilson i'm a... a barman."
"Really ? So hurry the f*ck up and do as i asked. I don’t need to know your backstory even if you are obviously lying. "
"Thank you. I am searching for a guy named Guy Ritchie. You know him ?"
"Are you a fucking detective ?"
"Yes, i mean, no. He just owes me money, haha you know... here is your coktail."
"That's a bottle of beer."
"Yes. But i must confess i don’t know how to make the coktail you asked."
"You should think about finding another job than detective or barman, you suck at both."
That was pretty harsh and unexpected. Detective Marlow suddenly bursted out in tears and leaved the bar, hiding his face with his large hands, in a pathetic attempt to hide that he was crying like a baby. Guy Ritchie looked at him opening the exit door and going outside. Then, he took the beer, and opened it up.
"Crazy fuking night..." he thought, while drinking it.
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[WP] Like an old noir film, the detective walks into a bar to gather information on their case. But the detective gets changed into work attire and stands behind the counter. Turns out being the bartender is much more effective than just asking around for information.
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So it was my first day on the job, see. I had heard about how slippery people’s mouths got with a beer in their hand and a down-to-earth bartender to talk to, see. Turns out, their mouths were much slippery than expected.
It had only been an hour on the job when a man walked up to the counter and sighed in my direction, “hey bartender. You know how there are those drug dealings going in the slums?”
I blew a puff of air, “of course, who doesn’t? It’s all over the news, ain’t it?”
They nodded, “you’re right, you’re right. It’s just, sometimes good people get caught up in that sort of stuff.”
“I hear you. My friend had a cousin who got stuck with the wrong crowd, see. Fortunately, they’re still young, they can get off with a slap on the back and pointed in the right direction.”
“I know, I know, I just… I don’t want to be a snitch, see?”
“I see. So you know someone in that crowd.”
“Yeah, my nephew. I tried to confront him about it…”
“Ah, kids… so headstrong.”
“I love the boy too, he reminds me of me when I was young, see.”
“Does he tell anyone where his deals go down?”
“He tells Billy, his brother. Billy and he are close, he wouldn’t spill anything.”
“If you can figure that out, give an anonymous tip to the police to hit the site and a tip to Billy to warn your nephew. He’ll see that if it weren’t for sheer luck, he’d be caught too, that should turn him around.”
“You know, that just might work! Thanks, bartender. You made my day seem a whole lot less rainy.”
“Happy to help, and no need to pay for that drink. It’s on me.”
I probably could have gotten him to put the kid in danger, but he didn’t deserve to get caught up in this. The cops would pull off the drug bust and that was enough for me. It’s crazy how much they confided in me. But confidentiality came with its own troubles. As a cop, having to make the tough decisions meant it was best to stay impartial. Enemies were merely blurred faces, it made pulling the trigger easy. When I knew the story behind them, sometimes it makes me wonder if I’m really doing the right thing.
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"I would like a cherry blossom curly rose brandy with some malte pepper and a cream of villa nueva on top please, oh and on the rocks with a sip of bloody tonga from rio de janeiro, not ripped, thank you"
Ronald Marlow Stevenson, 54, detective from Palo Alto, paused a little before answering.
"Wait, what did you just say ? "
"Are you deaf or dumb ? Where is William, who are you anyway ? "
"William's mother is very sick. I'm helping him out tonight."
Ronald thought for a second about William's inanimate body just under his feet in the basement.
"William's mother ? He is an orphan ! Who the f*ck are you ?"
"I'm Conrad Wilson i'm a... a barman."
"Really ? So hurry the f*ck up and do as i asked. I don’t need to know your backstory even if you are obviously lying. "
"Thank you. I am searching for a guy named Guy Ritchie. You know him ?"
"Are you a fucking detective ?"
"Yes, i mean, no. He just owes me money, haha you know... here is your coktail."
"That's a bottle of beer."
"Yes. But i must confess i don’t know how to make the coktail you asked."
"You should think about finding another job than detective or barman, you suck at both."
That was pretty harsh and unexpected. Detective Marlow suddenly bursted out in tears and leaved the bar, hiding his face with his large hands, in a pathetic attempt to hide that he was crying like a baby. Guy Ritchie looked at him opening the exit door and going outside. Then, he took the beer, and opened it up.
"Crazy fuking night..." he thought, while drinking it.
|
|
[WP] Like an old noir film, the detective walks into a bar to gather information on their case. But the detective gets changed into work attire and stands behind the counter. Turns out being the bartender is much more effective than just asking around for information.
|
The bar was muted. The two drunkards who had been fighting had been kicked out into the howling rain and were still going at it in the stable. A light swung in the center of the ceiling, dimly illuminating the bar. There were other lights, but this was the brightest and thus the only one that mattered.
Men and women muttered softly, slowly, at old wooden tables. Waiters roved around with glasses of beer for anyone who wanted one.
Rain pattered on the windows. It was the sort of rain that was more noisy than heavy, and so gave the impression of being heavy much better than actual heavy rain.
The two doors flapped open on their hinges, creaking for oil. A man in an oversized coat, big boots, and a black hat just titled over his face to create that ominous shadow, stepped in. Most of his face was cloaked in a dark red scarf.
The planks creaked.
”Ten percent more expensive,” the bartender said lazily. The Creaky Plank had been one of his better ideas to identify strangers.
The man stomped to the bar. A few other regulars who were sitting there reluctantly moved their chairs to make way for the well-built figure, but of course listened in on their whispered conversation.
The man wanted to know if anyone had heard about a woman named Lily. The bartender shrugged and just said no, would he like a beer. The man said two glasses, as strong as possible, please, and the bartender proficiently poured beer into two dusty glasses and slid it over to him, probably sloshing half of the liquid in doing so.
The man gulped them down, slammed a few coins on the counter, and began going around, asking for information. No one had heard of Lily, as it turned out, and the man had no choice, but to leave in disappointment.
The moment he went out, the bar was alive with talk about Lily, the woman who had divorced three men and then proceeded to rob two of them. The third one was dead, and his will somehow dedicated all his money to Lily, so that was alright.
All the regulars knew was that they weren’t giving anythin‘ away to sum ol’ stranger, looks suspicious ter me anyways.
The bartender grinned. Joe had done his job perfectly, focusing everyone on Lily, sniffing for information.
He would do the rest.
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'Gin & tonic?' I ask, polishing the glasses for umpteenth time.
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'Something harder, pal. Much harder.' A raspy voice answers.
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'Something harder coming right up.' I say, as I prepare a concoction. Mrs Harper had given me a little something that helps tongues loosen up faster. Time to use that.
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Five drinks later, I ask, 'Dames, huh?'
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'Bi... bi... big tom... ' my mark whispers more words & keeps talking. Five drinks & already out for the count? Big Tommy's palookas have softened over the years, it seems.
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Then, I digest the situation. Tony Mallard's wife had asked me to tail him. The usual stepping husband stuff. Seems like Tony here knew Thomas 'Big Tommy' Mancini a bit too well. Mob & me. What a combination.
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I wonder if Mrs Mallard knew that her husband was in cahoots with the mob. It changes the situation. Tony droned on, 'Big Tommy wants the dame dead. He's running scared.'
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My name is Harry Sloane, and I am a PI. After hanging my shingle, I found out the hard way that a bartender earns lot more than a PI. Also, he is a treasure trove of information. The bartender, not the PI. Plus, I don't have to prise out information the hard way, when I am sidelining as a bartender.
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'Big Tommy? He is more likely to die of a heart attack than a dame.' That's me. 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘉𝘪𝘨 𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺? 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵? Tony looks at me. He suddenly decides that he has said too much. Even sloshed, he tries to vamoose. I hold him by his collar.
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So much for not using the hard way. He tries to land two blows on me. They are not effective, but they put the distance between us. He somehow makes it to the exit. So do I. We both spot his Mercedes. We have the same thought: run!
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To this day, Tony insists that it was the only wise decision we geniuses made. It is true. No sooner do we reach the Mercedes, than the bar explodes. We are far enough to not to be made into fried chicken, yet close enough to feel the heat. Tony gains his voice first.
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'Wh... Who are you?! What's happenin'?' Guess he is stone cold sober now.
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'Sorry about that, pal.' I too gain my voice. 'Looks like.... looks like the cook left a burner on.'
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[WP] "The reason I don't sing", says the quiet girl in your class, "is because when I do, all these birds come and chirp along, and you know I'm shy."
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School was ending, and my best friend and I were looking over the paper stuck on the bulletin board.
"Ahaha, that's a good one, Ava," I said, reading through the school club postings. "Alright, alright, no choir. We're not signing up for choir."
"...But would you ever sing for *me*, though?" I turned to her, exaggerating a wink. "And what kind of birds? I hope that it's not those pooping geese! Poooooo is ewwwww."
Ava snorted softly. A faint smile played around the corners, but it disappeared just as quickly. I frowned.
"Oh Brian, you've barely changed since elementary school," she stated forlornly.
"OI!" I cried, placing a dramatic hand over my chest. "What's that's supposed to mean? Elementary school was 3 months ago!" Her smile, though wavering, slowly crept back up.
Mission "*Mood Lightening"*: Success!
"Maybe... I'll just show you. Just this once?" Ava yoinked on my hand and pulled me away from the board. I followed her down the hallway and into an empty classroom. The chairs were stacked, so we plopped onto floor.
"Do you trust me, Brian?" She asked me.
"Whoa there, you're the one trusting me here. And I'm honored. Very." A thought drifted by, and I added, "And Ava, I trust you with my life."
"Okay," Ava nodded shakily. "Okay, okay." She inhaled.
Her exhale was a note that thrummed, running deep into my chest and vibrating into my bones. My heart started racing as a melody crescendoed, and wisps of fire started cackling around us. Firey birds rose out and joined in.
*Phoenixes*. *Magic*.
Memories slammed through me, bringing me flashbacks to an age where the world was in ruin. Rubble. Broken families. A light that loomed ominously over the dark skies. Ava researching intricate runes that could send us back through time, and me drawing them on the crusty floor of an abandoned building.
*Reincarnation*. *Again and again*.
The music stopped, and I was huddled on the floor. A round of expletives left my lips immediately. My voice suddenly sounded too tiny, and too high.
Ava pulled me into a hug, and it was an embrace I haven't felt in years.
"Oh Brian, you've barely changed since your 26th birthday," Ava whispered forlornly.
"Shut up. I'm inches shorter now." I paused, and the weight of it all finally settled in.
*We're adults stuck in children's bodies. Again.*
And we have only 13 years to prepare and stop the end of the world.
*Attempt No. 142: Begin.*
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“Are you a Disney princess?”
“Yes. Yes, finally, someone other than me knows the horrid truth.”
“What.”
“We’re all in a film. Cameras are rolling, and we can’t even see. The audience, bored by the lack of a compelling plot must have left long ago, popcorn buckets forgotten, waiting for the staff to collect when our film finally plods to an end.”
She took a deep breath, and continued, “I am delaying the inevitable, but is that not what we do in general? I say that I am shy, but how can I be shy in the face of destiny? I must, at some point, sing. And the birds are destined to provide backing to my hokey lyrics yearning for something more.”
“Janet, you’re a loon.”
“I am a captive in the maw of a mouse.”
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[WP] "The reason I don't sing", says the quiet girl in your class, "is because when I do, all these birds come and chirp along, and you know I'm shy."
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School was ending, and my best friend and I were looking over the paper stuck on the bulletin board.
"Ahaha, that's a good one, Ava," I said, reading through the school club postings. "Alright, alright, no choir. We're not signing up for choir."
"...But would you ever sing for *me*, though?" I turned to her, exaggerating a wink. "And what kind of birds? I hope that it's not those pooping geese! Poooooo is ewwwww."
Ava snorted softly. A faint smile played around the corners, but it disappeared just as quickly. I frowned.
"Oh Brian, you've barely changed since elementary school," she stated forlornly.
"OI!" I cried, placing a dramatic hand over my chest. "What's that's supposed to mean? Elementary school was 3 months ago!" Her smile, though wavering, slowly crept back up.
Mission "*Mood Lightening"*: Success!
"Maybe... I'll just show you. Just this once?" Ava yoinked on my hand and pulled me away from the board. I followed her down the hallway and into an empty classroom. The chairs were stacked, so we plopped onto floor.
"Do you trust me, Brian?" She asked me.
"Whoa there, you're the one trusting me here. And I'm honored. Very." A thought drifted by, and I added, "And Ava, I trust you with my life."
"Okay," Ava nodded shakily. "Okay, okay." She inhaled.
Her exhale was a note that thrummed, running deep into my chest and vibrating into my bones. My heart started racing as a melody crescendoed, and wisps of fire started cackling around us. Firey birds rose out and joined in.
*Phoenixes*. *Magic*.
Memories slammed through me, bringing me flashbacks to an age where the world was in ruin. Rubble. Broken families. A light that loomed ominously over the dark skies. Ava researching intricate runes that could send us back through time, and me drawing them on the crusty floor of an abandoned building.
*Reincarnation*. *Again and again*.
The music stopped, and I was huddled on the floor. A round of expletives left my lips immediately. My voice suddenly sounded too tiny, and too high.
Ava pulled me into a hug, and it was an embrace I haven't felt in years.
"Oh Brian, you've barely changed since your 26th birthday," Ava whispered forlornly.
"Shut up. I'm inches shorter now." I paused, and the weight of it all finally settled in.
*We're adults stuck in children's bodies. Again.*
And we have only 13 years to prepare and stop the end of the world.
*Attempt No. 142: Begin.*
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"Mr. Richards. Thank you for coming in," the man said as he sat across from me. Tired eyes, cheap suit, even cheaper cologne... this was a spitting image of a detective. He cast a quick look at his partner, already sat at the table, then returned his attention to me.
I did not respond.
"I understand this is a... difficult time, but it is imperative that we get your statement as soon as possible."
"Could- could you close the window please?" I stammered. The two detectives exchanged brief looks before one got up and acquiesced to my request.
"Mr. Richards, could you tell us what happened earlier today"
"Birds," I quickly replied.
"Is that what killed your friends?" the detective said and looked at the file; it said the injuries that led to the deaths could be caused by birds. It would even explain why they're yet to find their eyes. I nodded.
"And how did that happen? Did they simply swoop from the sky and-"
"It was Viola."
The detective quickly listed through the file.
"Viola Summers? She's the only student we've not been able to find. Was she also hurt?"
"S- she did it."
"Could you... elaborate?" the detective asked; he seemed to be running out of patience for tall tales.
"She's shy. Quiet. Keeps to herself. One day she said when she s- sings, birds come to join her. She wanted to impress us, I- I think, befriend us, but he- Steve I mean-" I had to pause. The detective looked at me curiously.
"Take your time," the detective said.
"He laughed at her. Then Jen did. Then everyone did. Called her na- names. Princess, psycho, loser, that- that sort of stuff. I didn't, but... I didn't stop it either. Then... he pushed her. Took it too far."
A moment of silence followed.
"And then?" the detective asked.
I looked up at him, eyes wide and wild - behind him, outside of the window, sat a raven and looked at me with curious, knowing eyes. Like it knew. Like it waited.
*"She sang,"* I whispered.
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[WP] "The reason I don't sing", says the quiet girl in your class, "is because when I do, all these birds come and chirp along, and you know I'm shy."
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School was ending, and my best friend and I were looking over the paper stuck on the bulletin board.
"Ahaha, that's a good one, Ava," I said, reading through the school club postings. "Alright, alright, no choir. We're not signing up for choir."
"...But would you ever sing for *me*, though?" I turned to her, exaggerating a wink. "And what kind of birds? I hope that it's not those pooping geese! Poooooo is ewwwww."
Ava snorted softly. A faint smile played around the corners, but it disappeared just as quickly. I frowned.
"Oh Brian, you've barely changed since elementary school," she stated forlornly.
"OI!" I cried, placing a dramatic hand over my chest. "What's that's supposed to mean? Elementary school was 3 months ago!" Her smile, though wavering, slowly crept back up.
Mission "*Mood Lightening"*: Success!
"Maybe... I'll just show you. Just this once?" Ava yoinked on my hand and pulled me away from the board. I followed her down the hallway and into an empty classroom. The chairs were stacked, so we plopped onto floor.
"Do you trust me, Brian?" She asked me.
"Whoa there, you're the one trusting me here. And I'm honored. Very." A thought drifted by, and I added, "And Ava, I trust you with my life."
"Okay," Ava nodded shakily. "Okay, okay." She inhaled.
Her exhale was a note that thrummed, running deep into my chest and vibrating into my bones. My heart started racing as a melody crescendoed, and wisps of fire started cackling around us. Firey birds rose out and joined in.
*Phoenixes*. *Magic*.
Memories slammed through me, bringing me flashbacks to an age where the world was in ruin. Rubble. Broken families. A light that loomed ominously over the dark skies. Ava researching intricate runes that could send us back through time, and me drawing them on the crusty floor of an abandoned building.
*Reincarnation*. *Again and again*.
The music stopped, and I was huddled on the floor. A round of expletives left my lips immediately. My voice suddenly sounded too tiny, and too high.
Ava pulled me into a hug, and it was an embrace I haven't felt in years.
"Oh Brian, you've barely changed since your 26th birthday," Ava whispered forlornly.
"Shut up. I'm inches shorter now." I paused, and the weight of it all finally settled in.
*We're adults stuck in children's bodies. Again.*
And we have only 13 years to prepare and stop the end of the world.
*Attempt No. 142: Begin.*
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“Ohh,” I said. “That’s why you never sing ‘Everytime We Touch’ when we’re with the squad.”
“Yeah,” she replied, looking down. “It’s a problem.”
“I see. Yeah, I’d have a problem with that myself.”
Katie was one of the most socially reserved people I ever knew on campus. Even I as an Aspie could handle crowds so long as I had music to listen to or something to read like a novel or manga. This girl froze up with fear at the thought. It was a whole walkthrough of happenstance that we became friends, even more so when I introduced her to my boys Jack and Tre. One wouldn’t have thought it, but she clicked well with us, both in terms of interests and vibes. For some reason though, she was always dead silent when it came to listening to music. I always thought it was because she was self-conscious about her voice. Guess I was wrong.
“So what about rap?” I quizzed. “Do birds show up then?”
“No. If it’s lyrical, then crickets match with the beat. If it’s melody based, like Kanye or most mumble rap, then it’s owls.
“Funk mixes?”
She shuddered. “You ever heard a frog croak in tune to Earth, Wind, and Fire?”
I cringed. “Say no more.” I muttered.
“Yeah, it’s bad.”
“But why does that happen? Do you know?”
“Oh, I know,” she sighed as she rolled her eyes. “I ever tell you about my family tree?”
“I believe this is my first time hearing about it,” I answered with a raised eyebrow.
She paused; the look in her eyes could curdle milk and rot fruit (though out the corner of my eye, maybe I’m misremembering, but I think I saw the classroom plant bloom). She then sighed again before turning back to me and leaning in close.
“I come from a line of royalty,” she whispered.
I blinked for a second. “Oh,” I simply responded.
She nodded. “You know how whenever we accidentally turn on the radio, it always plays some magical melody-sounding stuff?”
“Y-yeah?” I said, confused. Immediately after I did though, it hit me.
I leaned in close. “Is that why when we worked in the park that one time, flowers started to bloom around us?”
She nodded. “It’s because my family is a long line of women who were blessed to be fucking Disney Princesses.”
I winced. “Ooh, that explains a lot,” I stated.
“Yeah, I fucking hate it. My mom’s a manic pixie dream girl mixed with a damn fairy princess, and my grandmother STILL looks like a traditional 50s housewife. I almost swung on my mom for replacing my NWA CD with the Spice Girls once.”
“Yikes,” I meaningfully contributed to the conversation. “It’s odd that you didn’t try going for an alternative vibe.”
“Didn’t try?” She dryly laughed. “Whatever color I dye my hair, it turns back to Aryan Blonde. Any nail color that isn’t Pastel Pink just turns into that. I got a nose piercing once in 11th grade, took it out when I took a shower, and the moment I got out the piercing closed like I was fucking Wolverine. It’s not that I never tried to, it’s that I genuinely can’t.”
“…I don’t know what to say. Sorry you gotta deal with that.”
“It’s fine. Frankly, hanging out with you guys is a good experience. It counteracts the limitations put on me through the spell, and it also helps that you all are essentially immune to the Fairest Maiden’s True Love bullshit.”
“The What What’s True What?”
“Oh, right, I haven’t told you that either.” She muttered, seemingly more to herself than me. “Basically, to make a long story short, those that are close to me fall madly in love with me, similar to those old fairy tale stories. Supposedly, my true love’s supposed to shine through it, like literally.”
“Wait,” I asked, confused about something. “If it works with the fairy tales, couldn’t you have just hung out with more alternative groups rather than a bunch of geeks that play video games while listening to Hideki Naganuma, Kendrick Lamar, and The Cranberries?”
“Well, the problem is that it’s based off of my sexuality…”
“…And you’re pan.” I finished.
“…Yeah.”
“Do you know why we’re exempt from the rule?”
“Nope. No clue.”
“And I would bet money that none of us have shined before.”
“And it’s a fat chance any of you ever will,” she agreed.
I chuckled. “Dang, tell me how you really feel.”
She smirked. “I feel like we should start studying or else we’re screwed on the exam.”
“Sounds good to me.” I smiled. “Wanna watch some Cinderella afterwards?”
She snorted. “Oh, fuck off, man.”
We both laughed as we got back to our study session before class started.
|
|
[WP] after losing their home, a young necromancer resurrects a paladin of the same church that destroyed their village. Now forced to protect the child, the paladin must confront their own holy order.
|
Verrick stood across from the wight, sword glimmering with numinous golden light that appeared to spill out from the deep fuller down the centre of the consecrated blade. He was panting heavily, though not from exhaustion, as he had only moments ago dismounted from his caparisoned charger, shocked into silence by the carnage he beheld. Amid the burning cottages and the acrid smell of burnt human flesh hanging greasy in the air was a pile of bodies - not the heathen peasantry that the Order of the Starling had been dispatched to remove from the countryside, but the armourbound brothers of the selfsame battalion, mired in their own blood and guts in a macabre bier of martyrs. As the flames flickered off their gore-spattered silver armour, so too did it bathe in lambent orange the gilded cuirass of a revenant, hunched over in a grotesque mockery of a human stance, rotting flesh curled around a similarly ensorcelled sword, its light a corrupted, foetid green.
Verrick drew a deep breath, shaky, still, but laden with intention. He spit back the rank air of the devasted hamlet charged with divine purpose, reciting a Litany against the Void. The words fell like hammerblows, reverberating for only seconds too many, carrying just yards further than they had any right too. He felt the Litany's purpose grow within him, and the light from his sword grew brighter, coruscating with divine energy, spreading down his sword arm and into his chest - as though dipped into a bath of warm honey and spices. As if in response, the putrid aura of the revenant paladin shrank back, and the abomination drew itself upright, revealing a helmetless face clad only partially in flesh, empty eye sockets burning with a roiling green energy that seemed to bore straight through Verrick. He shuddered, despite himself, the Litany faltering almost imperceptibly.
From behind the wight, a soft moan seemed to issue, like that of a mewling whelp of man or dog. Verrick's eyes immediately darted to look into the interior of the damaged shack behind the revenant, only now realising it was almost completed untouched, unlike every other dwelling. At the same time, he noticed, once more overdue, that the corpse impaled upon the threshold - run through the head, heart, and hind by a Starling spear - bore the scarry tattoos of a hedge-wizard: A necromancer, to be precise.
*This makes no sense,* thought Verrick to himself, even as he recited the seventh verse of the Litany. *The necromancer is dead. How could his vassalized corpse remain in the Sea when he himself has returned to the Void?*
The answer was obvious - there had to be another necromancer - but who on earth could that be? Wild magic, like that of necromancers, was anathema to the divine, and by extension to mortal men. The odds of their being a second necromancer in this rather small settlement of exiles and heretics were effectively nil. And yet a revenant paladin of the Order of the Starling stood before him, unnaturally still but seemingly taught with purpose, silently daring him to investigate the hovel - and to that end, cross swords.
The bile rose in Verrick's throat as he pondered the monstrous form before him. The gilded armour was that of a High Prelate, and the wings at his back marked him out as a candidate for the Martial Bishopry. The unknown necromancer had picked his target rather fortuitously, as a paladin of such rank and skill was undoubtedly a ferocious warrior, and an undisputed master of both Litany and Deurgy. Yet this knowledge frightened Verrick less than the thought of the necromantic skill required to rend such a righteous soul from the Void, to bind such a disciplined mind - steeped in divine magic - with the manacles of wild magic. Even if he were able to cut down the revenant, Verrick was unsure he could best a necromancer of such raw power.
Nevertheless, it was his obligation to discharge the duty he had been entrusted with by the Lowly Nave herself. He brought his sword to eye level, reinforcing his stance with his off hand lower on the grip. It was not a standard battle form, and he was surprised and terrified to see the revenant not only perform the ritual salute for a paladin's duel, but also adopt a counterstance with the sword in its backhand, forehand outstretched in a taunting gesture.
Verrick's recitation choked to a stuttering halt. The strength endowed by the Litany remained, but the foul aura of the undead knight surged again, flooding into Verrick's armour with the prickling chill of the naked Void.
"Name yourself, sir knight," ordered Verrick, more confidently than he felt. "So I may know whose soul I should mourn when I unmake you."
There was no answer from the revenant, though the half-skeletal jaw unset itself to hang eerily from the puckered flesh of the face. Wild magic burns had contorted what little muscle remained into a curdled mess, so it was unlikely the ogre could have spoken even if it had retained the will to do so.
A brief moment of silence passed. Verrick took a cautious step forward, angling his body to keep the sword between him and his opponent. The dead paladin glared back with undirected animosity, wild magic sputtering in his eyes as he subtly shifted his position to interpose himself between Verrick and the threshold. It was clear that the wight's purpose was to hold the line, and that line was likely where the door used to be. It would not be easy to enter the dwelling without engaging in-
Head-on combat! Verrick sprang forward and swung down in a single motion, bringing his blade down to meet the revenant's with a sibilant crash of enchanted steel on enchanted steel. Already he had pulled his arms back, stepping back as he cut forward in an arc, left hand loosing its grip on the sword as he swung through, preparing a bolt of golden energy in his palm. The revenant was no slower on the draw, and his sword had already curved downward from its guard and towards Verrick's exposed foreleg, forcing the Starling knight to abandon his Deurgy in favour of an attempt to trap the green blade under his armoured foot.
The two exchanged blows slowly but methodically, every thrust met and matched with guard and cut. The revenant made no attempt to cast any wild magic, which Verrick attributed to the conflicting natures of the divinely-touched soul and the Void-forged essence of the undead flesh. However, the wight was also disturbingly good at countering Verrick's own Deurgy, with even the first hand motions of a divine hex immediately countered with pressuring swordplay that all but obviated any magic. The dead paladin was a frighteningly competent fighter, even accounting for his rank, and while Verrick remained strengthened from his recitation of a Litany, he knew he could not altogether overcome the monster.
Sensing a rare opportunity, the paladin kicked away his dead brother's sword and leapt back, with the revenant forgoing the traditional riposte in favour of remaining transfixed for a moment, only to return to an upright position, sword unnervingly still in its skeletal grasp.
"Who are you?!" demanded Verrick, which much less composure this time. "Tell me, my brother, who are you?"
A low groan arose from the revenant's... cuirass? Verrick glanced down in bewilderment, only for his brow to unfurrow as clarity emerged. The sound was from ribs rubbing against each other in demented facsimile of human speech - gut against bone, instead of tongue against teeth. Biting back an urge to vomit, he lowered his sword slightly, almost imperceptibly, though he knew the revenant would notice.
The groaning grew louder, more grating, and the revenant slowly reached under its gorget, drawing forth a glittering gold chain on which hung a tiny locket - barely a fingerwidth in length, and narrower by half. Verrick's blood ran cold, even with the warmth of the Litany. Every knight wore a locket containing a scroll, and while the scroll contained most of the information about that knight, the locket itself was traditionally engraved with crests and markings identifying the knights origin. In this case, the undead knight seemed to have been ordained in the year 534 in the distant mountain priory in Rigeryon, in the north - a fact that would have been less consequential if Verrick had not himself been ordained from exactly the same flock.
"Brother?" This time, Verrick's tone was more pleading, as if beseeching information the wight seemed unable to give. "It's me, Verrick. Do you remember? We grew up together, in the priory, we must have!"
The groaning grew louder.
"You must remember me, brother! We would have played by the creek in the woods, sheared the ewes by Elder Pitreus' hut! Please-"
The groaning had become louder, sounding less like human speech and more like a howling wind. The revenant had begun to move, shivering ever so slightly in place.
Verrick's voice was thick with unshed tears. "Meherk?"
The howl of bones grew louder.
"Ebedias?"
The howl of bones grew louder.
Tears were streaming down Verrick's face now, and he made no attempt to hold his sword at the ready. "Please." He whispered, less to the twisted memory of the man before him, and more to something ineffable. "Please."
"Y-Yurii?"
The clash of bones against rotting flesh had become a keening, and amplified within the gilded cuirass of a dead paladin it was unbearably loud. It roared discordantly across the destroyed village, occupied by three souls, two living and one bound. It was at once cacophonous, spine-tingling in its alien unearthliness, and heart-rendingly familiar.
----------------------------------------------------------
*^read ^more ^from ^/u/OishikR ^at ^/r/TheTerminus.*
|
Put to the "holy" sword, cleansed in the holy fire.
It would be laughable how these idiots follow their false doctrine to slay anyone in the path of the citadel.
If they didn't just massacre my whole town...
These braindead brainwashed musclepuppets, trained to be glorious swordsmen and put anyone to the sword who their overlords point to as unjust and unholy blasphemers. Polishing their armour and faith more than they ever polished their minds. Using "holy" magic, bound through faith.
Not knowing they are tapping in to the arcane, the healing arcane, bound by rules of faith and their beliefs.... Idiots.
Is it unjust of me to re animate these shining examples of how stupid one can be by blindly following faith or man's interpretation of it?
To be honest, I don't give a flying f*ck.
If their god is indeed real and I am to be judged before him, I'll give him the same treatment I have given these bastards....
Can I slay and reanimate a god?
Hah, that's a lofty goal... I'm tempted to find out.
If the citadel used them as braindead puppets than so will I.
The battleslain commander, a big buffoon of a man heads taller than all these surrounding dead idiots, they believed he was anointed because of his big stature. To be slain by a bitter small 18 year old and used as my personal champion to exact revenge on the very order he swore his existence to.
If God is real, he sure is a sadistic son of a bitch.
My friends laughter I can never bring back through reanimation,
My dogs I can bring back, their love won't be the same but atleast now they will heel and listen when I tell them to come, and drop whatever is in their mouths.... Hell hounds tend to follow commands.
But my irreplaceable research and books passed on by generations of necromancers before me, the books of my great grandfather and his fathers before him. I've lost them all and intend to pay for every drop of ink in pools of their blood.
Now rise my champion, we've got work to do.
Let's see how many of them we can send to meet your God.
|
|
[WP] after losing their home, a young necromancer resurrects a paladin of the same church that destroyed their village. Now forced to protect the child, the paladin must confront their own holy order.
|
"...You are so small, little Rand," the lumbering undead whispered, barely touching the young man's head. He may have, at one time, sought to ruffle the youth's hair, but his nervousness made him reluctant to touch, to feel the smallness of the child before him.
Rand of Grey Haunt was no older than seven Summers, and had only called upon this paladin's soul - Edea, the Spirited, because he was afraid. He was so *small*, the world out there was towering over him, like forest trees might lord over a mouse. Grey Haunt had been neglected, spiritually, when the elders some centuries ago forced the Church to leave, taking with them all the sacres to chase away the dark and evil night. In their neglect, the town had fallen, dark magic and vile beings had run the town through, and it had been Edea's mission to deal with the situation. Unfortunately, Edea was soft-hearted, and the moment they had spotted Rand, a bolt of magic tore their soul from their mortal form, and it had been silence for only a blink.
Rand, after all the fires had settled, pulled out a book that was too heavy for his stick arms to carry, and had called for Edea's flesh to be brought back to life. Edea found their body was cold, it did not have a beating heart, and it did not hunger or thirst, nor need rest. But poor little Rand, so tiny as he was, had made sure they'd survived, and had been able to gain passage to Redbrand, the next major town. There, Edea hoped to speak with the Church, perhaps beg for clemency for this child, whose body so easily fit into the back of their shield. When they arrived, Edea had called on Rand, to follow up the steps leading to the Church. Rand, whose feet were nimble, but body weak, heaved every breath as he climbed the myriad stairs to the building. Just in front of the door, was the holy sigil, which reacted to Edea's presence still, allowing the pair to enter. Edea swept Rand up into their arm, his head against pauldron, as they made their way through the smoke of prayer.
Edea had thought it would sting, to be in the presence of holiness, as one unholy, but though the means had been darkness, their life was still deemed pure it seemed.
"Edea the Spirited has returned!" Came the call from behind, a bell above them ringing as a Saint had entered the Church. The captain of this branch, Wise Aelus, turned to face them. Aelus was not like Edea, Aelus served as the brain, where Edea was the arm and the fist.
"Edea, what has become of you?" Aelus breathed, rushing to embrace their face with hands. Edea placed Rand carefully on the ground, as Aelus completed his inspection.
"I am ashamed, Wise Aelus, for I perished on the field. I am-"
"You were welcomed, Edea," Aelus smiled, "Had you not been allowed inside, perhaps we would have had words, but you are *here*. Come, come little one, what is your name?"
Aelus knelt, as adults do when they speak with children barely half their size. Rand looked to Edea, who nodded at him, encouraging him to speak.
"I am...Rand, of Grey Haunt. I asked Edea to-to help me. I'm sorry!" Rand's eyes watered, his hands covering his face. Aelus brought the boy closer, comforting his tears.
"Rand, little Rand of Grey Haunt. You too, were welcomed into this place. Whatever happened, it was not without the divine Purpose." Aelus smiled gently, allowing Rand to cower behind Edea's legs.
"I had thought I'd have to fight here, as I have to escort this child through the misery of the tainted lands. You welcome me, as if I still live. What purpose do you have for me, Wise Aelus?" Edea questioned, wise to the ways of dark magics and evil spirits. Aelus shook their head.
"None, Spirited Edea. Tell me, what is the Purpose?"
"Perfect love." Edea responded, straightening their stance.
"Why would we hate a child, who has had no time to grow beyond his ways of Grey Haunt? No. Love would be to teach this child, and to thank our god for you. I would be remiss not to recognise the love he has for you."
"Then what of Grey Haunt, why did we not love them?!" Edea hissed. Aelus' face fell, they turned to face the tall glass panel that decorated the main hall of the Church, and with a sigh they explained.
"They felt not love, nor joy, nor any pure thing. At the heart of Grey Haunt is a life so evil, so twisted, that it can only recognise darkness. That place lived in blindness, and was deaf and dumb to us, but it would open its senses to another," Aelus had tears down their own face, a haunted look levelled at Edea, "At the time, we had few Saints. We could not fight the darkness at that place, and I am ashamed that I allowed you to go. I am sorry, Edea, that you are unable to rest yet."
Rand poked his head out to the side of Edea, looking at Aelus with a frown.
"The child is your first priority. Protect him, Edea," Aelus clasped their hands around Edea's gloves, "And when he has known these pure things, we may return to Grey Haunt with a greater number of Saints, and do as we were taught, to love that place."
"Yes, Wise Aelus." With a squeeze of their hands, Edea released Aelus and picked Rand back up into their arms, taking him further into the warmth of the Church.
|
Put to the "holy" sword, cleansed in the holy fire.
It would be laughable how these idiots follow their false doctrine to slay anyone in the path of the citadel.
If they didn't just massacre my whole town...
These braindead brainwashed musclepuppets, trained to be glorious swordsmen and put anyone to the sword who their overlords point to as unjust and unholy blasphemers. Polishing their armour and faith more than they ever polished their minds. Using "holy" magic, bound through faith.
Not knowing they are tapping in to the arcane, the healing arcane, bound by rules of faith and their beliefs.... Idiots.
Is it unjust of me to re animate these shining examples of how stupid one can be by blindly following faith or man's interpretation of it?
To be honest, I don't give a flying f*ck.
If their god is indeed real and I am to be judged before him, I'll give him the same treatment I have given these bastards....
Can I slay and reanimate a god?
Hah, that's a lofty goal... I'm tempted to find out.
If the citadel used them as braindead puppets than so will I.
The battleslain commander, a big buffoon of a man heads taller than all these surrounding dead idiots, they believed he was anointed because of his big stature. To be slain by a bitter small 18 year old and used as my personal champion to exact revenge on the very order he swore his existence to.
If God is real, he sure is a sadistic son of a bitch.
My friends laughter I can never bring back through reanimation,
My dogs I can bring back, their love won't be the same but atleast now they will heel and listen when I tell them to come, and drop whatever is in their mouths.... Hell hounds tend to follow commands.
But my irreplaceable research and books passed on by generations of necromancers before me, the books of my great grandfather and his fathers before him. I've lost them all and intend to pay for every drop of ink in pools of their blood.
Now rise my champion, we've got work to do.
Let's see how many of them we can send to meet your God.
|
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