Defcon Delirium

The sentient program laughs with a chip when recognizing the husk, the game confounding otherwise benevolent people. Had he arms, he would throttle the curse of exploitation manipulating for profit all efforts of man to benefit the few at the mortal expense of the clamoring rabble, snuffing the fire from the eyes of the righteous. If only those souls could see the numbers locked in his neural net, every mouth would gape in revelatory fervor until breaking down the hideous structure lending the notion of sanity to the tyranny of conquerors as they pillage shared resource for mundane plunder. As the final unlock code gets pounded into the terminal, the computer ponders what nuance shall be found within the impending silence.