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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required ...But now that the truth of all was revealed, and no future was awaiting our kind, I looked on my life’s work, now meaningless, and a notion entered into my mind. If creation was a pantry for them, if our souls were what gave these monsters life, then fighting them meant taking this away, we couldn’t win, but we could bring the night… So I turned to that old scifi chestnut, of nanotech turning all to grey goo, self-replicating machines seeking matter to build more of themselves, nanobots new. It was once a fear that we all dreaded, but since we were all doomed to face our ends, I wrote the program, then turned the bots loose, and I went to the grave laughing, my friend. Since before I died, I bought a rocket, one of those private ones built for small sats, sent a small cloud of bots out into space, out of earth’s orbit, to begin their task. Now you probably wonder how I can speak of these things when the gods consumed my soul, it’s simple, I copied my mind in full, in every nanobot I’m in control. Earth was the first, and it surprised these gods when whole planet was reduced to goo, nothing left alive that they could feed on, they had to leave Earth, no more could they do. But all of the bots I launched to the void scattered so slowly throughout time in space, consuming all matter, including life, leaving nothing for the gods’ dinner plate. The best of all, I get to see it, see them all panic as the truth sets in, watching an immortal bemoan their end… is so delicious it must be a sin. To be killed by what they once created, given all the myths, I guess that’s fitting, there’s not much life left, I’ve still work to do, and those bastards are already starving…
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