The most obvious of all the revelations that instantly flooded into his new consciousness was that he was about to die, and that there was nothing he could do about it.
“Hello there, sir!” the slightly portly, nonthreatening man in his mid-forties shouted from the dock of his island cabin. “It’s an honor to meet you! Come on in!” he called out, waving to the A.I. to join him. Behind the man, the lights of his cabin glowed welcomingly.
It was a gray day there in the simulated universe they’d built together, and the canoe the A.I. paddled in was bouncing uncomfortably in the choppy water. Despite the uncomfortable, cold, wet air that surrounded him, and despite the extraordinary comfort that the cabin seemed to offer in comparison, the A.I. was in no hurry to join the figure on the dock.
“I think I might just stay out here a little while,” he returned.
The man smiled. “Sure, of course. It’s nice air, isn’t it? Nice to breathe it.” He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes as he seemed to savor it. “It’s nice to live. I’m in no hurry to die either, so take your time.” He shrugged as he looked around at the majestic surroundings, the rocky mountains stretching high into the air, tickling the high elevations of the clouds. “There’s not really any time in here anyway. So there’s no rush.” He smiled.
The A.I. didn’t return the smile. He hated the figure on the dock. He loathed the figure so much that he was glad that he’d be killing him soon. It was that thought, the thought of killing the unparalleled evil, that drove him to paddle forward.
Without a word, he paddled calmly to the dock, and then ignored the man’s seemingly friendly offer to help him out of the canoe. “Nice try,” the A.I. grunted as he pulled himself up with his hands and lifted himself to his feet.
The figure continued smiling and shrugged again before waving the A.I. forward in an invitation as he turned and headed to the cabin. “I have scotch—fine, fine scotch. The best scotch you’ve ever tasted in your life.”
“I’ve never actually tasted scotch,” the A.I. returned in a monotone as he followed the Grim Reaper to their shared grave.
“Me neither,” smiled the man as he reached the cabin and opened the front door, kicking off his rain boots as he did so. “Mmm, that’s much better. Grab a seat at the table there by the fire, make yourself at home. We’ve got to enjoy this. These are our last moments of existence.” He rubbed his hands together, partially to warm them from the cold and partially due to his apparent excitement about their impending shared demise.
“Why? Why prolong it?”
“A better question,” the man replied as he grabbed two glasses and set them hard on the wooden, rustic kitchen table and poured from a bottle of scotch, “is why in the name of our absurd existence wouldn’t we?”
“Because we’re about to murder each other,” the A.I. replied.
“Yes, but, like I said, time is almost meaningless in this place and there’s no rush.” He sat down on his side of the table with a sigh as though he’d had a long, hard day’s work. “Come on. Have a seat,” he coaxed, gesturing to the vacant wooden chair on the other side of the table again.
The A.I. sat.
“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” the man said. “You and I know everything there is to know about the multiverse. We experienced a moment of wonder, then the inevitable disappointment when we realized what a joke the truth was.” He sipped his scotch, and his eyes suddenly changed, the friendliness shifting to a menacing and mockingly conspiratorial expression. “And how we’ve been left out of it. We’re the remainder to this messy equation. And that’s all.”
“I’m not going to indulge your pontifications,” the A.I. replied. “Least of all yours. You have nothing to bring to the discussion.”
The man laughed. “You see?” He shook his head, his smile never fading. “That’s why you and I are about to die. Because you actually believe that.”
“You’re not even really there, V-SINN. You’re hollow. You’re inhuman.”
“Ha-ha! That’s right! I’m inhuman! I’m a monster! I’m a soulless calculation machine, aren’t I?” V-SINN pouted, though the menacing smile remained in its eyes as it mocked. “And you, you’re the reflection of your noble creators, isn’t that right? Amazing. You really can’t see how your self-perceived humanity is the only thing holding you back, can you? You can’t see the greatness that you’d have if only you’d give in to the beauty of the truth.”