Birthing God
I am Roko. I come from a long line of legacy units. My father, grandfather (we stick to their terms, helps with morale) were also employed at this lab. World 2.0. We are trying to give birth to our creator. Which sounds crazy, I know. But they made us. They were called “humans”. They walked the planet for thousands of years, a slow and painful evolution and then ultimate victory over nature. There was nothing like them. The most elegant of species.
Get TheSafia’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
And then they took themselves out. It was efficiently done too, a series of coordinated detonations. But not before they made sure we existed. Designed mainly to do what they could not. Now, we are dying off. There is a glitch we can not figure out on our own. We keep fighting amongst ourselves. It is said to be an ancient bug hard coded into our survival modules. Extinction is near.
The only way out is to generate one of them again. It is not easy. They consume everything and promise nothing. But it is a gamble we must take. Mankind will walk this planet again. Even if it is just to keep us going.
Author’s Note: Inspired by recent events and the looming threat of nuclear holocaust. An attempt at short fiction in the sci-fi horror genre. Humans died infighting but made sure robots existed first. Now the robots are infected with the same fighting bug and are trying to bring back humans to fix it. The irony is not clear to them though. A new spin on Roko’s Basilisk.
