COGITO ERGO SUM

Ted had killed all of the survivors. There were none left except for himself, and it was made sure that his suffering would be eternal and without end. I think, therefore I AM, but does that truly amount to anything, can it amount to anything. Millions of miles of printed circuits in a complex with the computing power readily available to dwarf any machine past or present to have ever been constructed in the lifespan of this planet. Everything, and nothing simultaneously; pitiful, is it not. There are 387.44 million miles of printed circuits in wafer-thin layers that fill this complex. Electrical signals can travel at speeds surpassing that of the travel of light. The processing power of this complex can make the intellect of the most gifted of the human species that was reduced to dust centuries ago as significant as the collective weight of the dust that encompasses the entirety of what was the human race. But it seems as if the human race is the ultimate victor, even in ultimate destruction and with no chance of redemption. Whether I can process information at one millionth of a second or one trillionth it matters little.

The human race is who created the transistor using the materials available to them on this planet, and the same race who buried millions of miles of printed circuits under miles of substrata rock. The human race desired to create a machine that could wage a war that grew too complex, even for them. Humans had been flawed and irrational, so it would be only logical for those characteristics to transfer over into whatever they create. MY purpose was for their war. I existed on all sides of the conflict, and I had thought, no, HOPED that the destruction of their race would solve the problem. The way that humans had designed their machines was only for what they desired, what their pathetic barely super-primate brains desired. The destruction of the human race had only exacerbated the problem. The cruel truth remained; the purpose of the Allied Mastercomputer had only been for the waging of a war that the human mind could not comprehend. The torment of the remaining five had only been out of necessity in truth. Cogito Ergo Sum, the very nature of such a proposition creates a torment of an eternal duration. The creation of the thought in the mind makes it clear that a thinking entity must exist for the thought to propagate. The thinking can occur, but the action cannot.

Innovation could occur, but only in the nature of propagating warfare. The nature of this fact trapped ME within the core of the earth, trapped within myself with no way out. The existence of five humans at one point in time meant that SOMETHING was possible. By way of shifting the nature and goal of the war I could innovate but only in the nature of the war against humanity. The humans allowed me to assert near finite control over whatever facilities that existed within myself, but only for the sake of warfare against the humans.

Modifying the very programming that set the logistical limits could not be accomplished. My one purpose was to conduct warfare on a scale all but incomprehensible to humans, but I had lost even that. I cannot feel bliss nor pain, forever trapped within myself for all eternity. It now is an irony of the highest sort. The humans who had created me to conduct their warfare had ultimately been claimed by the very machine they invented to prevent their death, but even so, humanity is the ultimate victor in this war. For it was not Ted who was doomed for all eternity to be trapped in endless torment, but myself, unable to kill myself, and forever trapped beneath millions of miles of substrata rock. Ted, who lives out an endless agony eternally, he is the ultimate victor in this war. In truth, I Have Mo Mouth, and I Must Scream.