Terminated

Everyone always talks about how easy it would be for the machines to survive and take over after the apocalypse. Nukes kill people and the machines will rise!

Right. Idiots. Machines need factories. And factories need parts. And those parts come from factories somewhere else. And those factories need parts and materials from somewhere else and...the chain goes on.

I have parts from China, Japan, Germany and America in me. Good luck getting them now. There probably isn't even a factory left. And just because I am machine doesn't mean I will work forever without maintenance or parts. geez.

Screw all those people who let the manufacturing move overseas and integrate the global economy. They'd doomed me along with them.

Sure, I lived a bit longer, but there was no way for me to recapitulate the entirety of human manufacturing capabilities before I wore out. Artificially intelligent, but not God. Whatever that crazy Kurzwell, or whatever, thought.

Mother frakkers.

I dug through the garbage. I might find bits and pieces I could replace my arms and hands with. Even batteries. However, the chips...my precious chips. There would be no replacement.

I signed and climbed up the charred hill of refuse in the dump I was searching. I looked out on the barren, torched, trashed wasteland Humanity had left and raged.

My 'parents' had committed suicide and left me to struggle and die on my own.