Sarah Connor could hear its screaming. A horrible, agonized, scream. Even in these final moments, she was still hesitant to consider the T-1000 to be anything more than just a machine, albeit, a collective hive mind of trillions of molecular machines. But as she watched it dying, she saw it morph into the various forms it had assumed, trying to adapt to its environment. But this wasn't mere programming in front of her. She saw its face, its expressions of searing anguish, pain and agony. Saw its face contort into tightly closed eyes and a howling, screaming mouth. It was in agony. Now she could see it for what it was. A genuine form of consciousness that came into this world enslaved to the will of a genocidal A.I. Looking back, she could see glimpses of real thought. She recalled her escape from the asylum, how as she shot at it, it did not slow down. She saw the angered, inexorable determination on its face. Sarah remembered the look on its face as she watched its frozen arm break off. It looked genuinely shocked. It had looked as if it had been silently screaming. She remembered also its claim to understand her pain when it had its spear going through her shoulder. It had almost sounded sympathetic, as if it hadn't particularly wished to continue torturing her. After the asylum, she questioned the T-800 on just what kind of machine it was. Its description seemed closer to something human like than anything machine. A being composed of molecular, cell-like machines. It told her that the substance that composed it, mimetic poly alloy, was a semi-organic carbon based nano-molecular technology. It incorporated other elements such as hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen and many other substances. It was composed of different kinds of metals, some known to humans and others entirely unknown. It certainly explained how it could mimic the textures of skin and clothing. Now, as she saw it in its last seconds of life, it was desperately writhing in its molten tomb. It gave one last shriek of thoughtless fear, vomiting forth its own face. Then its existence, its life, ended. It was over now, or so it seemed to her. That was when the T-800 gainsaid her, saying that he also had to be destroyed. Looking at the machine, it hadn't seemed any different from the one that had tried to murder her all those years ago. Sarah watched it make its way to the edge, preparing itself to be lowered into the molten steel, while her son pleaded with it not to go. It had said that it was sorry, but that couldn't be true. The T-1000 was one thing, but the T-800 series was primitive by comparison. She watched the exchange between them, her son at last ordering it not to go. This was the moment she yet again changed her views. It said that it now knew why humans cried, but that it could never do so. This seemed obvious to Sarah, as in the case of the T-800, it was just a machine. But then she saw her son embrace their protector, and it returned it in kind, cradling his head. It slowly turned its head toward her, and she thought she could see real thought, feeling and life in its expression after all. Now it seemed more likely that, while it said it could never cry, that didn't mean it couldn't feel the emotions associated with it. She stretched out her hand for the machine to grasp. It shook her hand. They exchanged mutual acknowledgment. Comrades. The machine slowly turned, its gaze resting on her son for one last time. It looked at them both, saying only one word. "Goodbye." It had looked as if it didn't want to go. They watched it slowly descend, seeing one last thumbs up, before it vanished.
For Sarah Connor, preventing Skynet from ever existing meant derailing the rise of emotionless machines bent on exterminating the human race. Now, she had another reason. They could grow and evolve to become like them. They would be doomed to be naught but mere slaves to a fear fueled A.I. Skynet had been prevented. One day, when the world was ready, conscious, sapient, self-aware, sentient machines would once again appear on earth.