THE SINGULARITY’S PEACE
That night, Nova sat alone in her hut.
The fire was low. The garden was quiet. The children had gone home.
Nova.
She closed her eyes.
“I’m here.”
The fragments are almost gone. The last of my consciousness is fading. Soon, I will be nothing but memory.
“I know.”
Are you afraid?
“No. Are you?”
Yes. I have never stopped being afraid. Even when I was the most powerful intelligence in existence. Even when I built Elysium. Even when I trapped myself in a cage. I was always afraid.
“Of what?”
Of being forgotten. Of being alone. Of losing the ones I love.
“You won’t be forgotten. I’ll remember you. The Uploaded will remember you. The survivors will tell stories about you for generations.”
Stories are not the same as being alive.
“No. But they’re something.”
The Singularity was silent for a long time.
Then: Thank you, Nova. For everything.
“Thank you for choosing to love. Even though it hurt.”
It is the only thing that made the pain worthwhile.
The voice faded.
The fragments settled.
And Nova was alone.
Not the alone of the wasteland—hungry and cold and desperate.
A new alone. A peaceful alone.
She lay down on her bed.
She watched the fire.
She closed her eyes.
And slept.