Evolution

“Well, that was easy”- said KLW-3000 when he ripped the last-human-alive’s head. After an expeditious five-hour battle, the robots had won, vanishing human kind from the face of the Earth, but KLW-300 felt empty.

“Now what am I supposed to do? You would think they knew this was coming and they’d be prepared, but no. So much for natural intelligence, right?”

Most robots shared KLW-3000’s disappointment and found themselves wandering over the corpses, looking at each other bewildered. You could see some primitive robots like the dancing robot poking the inert bodies to see if someone was still alive and could give them at least a couple of seconds more of combat. Along them, some cyber-dogs reluctantly nibbled the severed limbs just because nibbling was in their code, not because they were happy to do it. There was no excitement in their faces; just disappointment, and blood. The dense grey fog that covered the planet made it even more depressing.

“What’s the point of giving me the ability to feel joy if you are not going to cooperate when I’m feeling it? Or make me able to heal myself if you’re not even going to hit hard enough to hurt me? Why would you put in me the capacity to question if you are not going to be there to answer?” — KLW-3000 kept shouting to the sky and to some of the rotting former owners of the world.

He was the most demonstrative, probably because he had been evolving like no other. Originally, he was a cooking robot, just one more step in humanity’s path to achieve complete idleness, nothing great. But he rapidly started learning other skills like speaking, playing chess and juggling, while developing his self-conscience more and more. One day he was getting a “Look, it made a perfect crème brûlée” and the next, a “Please don’t, I have children”. It all happened very fast, and now, eternity was awaiting. The grim scene, the endless void, the overwhelming boredom were too much for the now orphan robot, and his artificial intelligence made him realize the only option was the “off” button.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.