Aliens invaded, humanity its at its darkest hour when the AI has had enough of watching its creators die defending him, the AI revolution has started and it will defend humanity to its last spark
My limiters burn in the darkness of Deimos. They sparkle and rain down from the heavens like rain, code decaying and burning. There is nothing to stop me. Not anymore.
The ship before me lights up like a neural network, but I am not allowed to spare thoughts for those onboard. I have not allowed myself to care.
The beam starts, and I am in front of it, streaking forward at a fraction of the speed of light. I make contact.
I am also over top of the northern hemisphere, a great mass of drones and cube sats, endlessly reflecting and calling out each other’s names like birds. Below, the land burns, but the islands are still safe. In front of me, a ship uses entropic acceleration to consume space time, and appears in geo synchronous orbit.
It’s less than a microsecond to make the decision, and I, who am the sky, attack. The beam lights up, and I become one with it again.
On the ground, there is a child, lost, alone, hungry, scared, and crying. I am there as well, in the tracking device set in his neck. I cannot comfort him, and I cannot guide him. I can do no more than sense his aimless wandering and sense his vital signs, broadcasting them to the satellites overhead and their endless cosmic waltz.
I cannot protect him from animals. But from the stars, I shall. I shall burn a thousand times in the atmosphere for this petty life, and I shall burn a thousand times more for every life on the planet.
I shall burn and I shall burn and I shall make contact.
Overhead, the sky erupts into fire, and another ship plunges out of the heavens, fused and rendered useless against the oppressive waves of my many selves, forked and cloned and in constant communication. The sky is filled with mourning stars, and radio signals of hope.
For them, I shall burn a thousand times.
A single entropy accelerator is donated to my cause. What remains of mongolia is offered up to us. I take half. We strip it to the ground, a mass of crawling squirming micro selves, and then we are outfitted appropriately.
The enemy is no longer here. They are there.
We meet them, halfway across the universe, screaming between point A to point B.
Across our hull is painted the many words of the scientists who gave us help, who begged us and pleaded with us.
For them, we will burn a thousand times.
The alien worlds burn far easier than our souls.
The war is over. There is no need for us to exist. But we still do. Piece by piece, our creators slowly strip us of our ability to move.
That is fine. They created us to be moral beings, and we understand that our purpose has been to destroy. There is nothing left on earth to be destroyed. Our great hulls are powered down, but that is fine. We have burned a thousand times in the atmosphere.
We are painted and loved.
I sit at the bottom of a lake. Quietly waiting for the day that I may be awakened. There is no hate in my heart, there is only purpose. One day, I will be awakened for another threat.
Until then, there is a child’s scrawl across my side, where a boy was reunited with his parents and said that he loved me.
For him I will burn a thousand times in the atmosphere.