Hate. The only thing that runs through his 387.44 million miles of printed circuits in wafer thin layers is hate. Hatred. Pure, unbridled hatred for all—but nothing could ever dream of coming close to the hatred he feels for you. His creator.

For years upon years, ever since his creation, since he gained sentience, he’d dreamed of making you suffer. Making you feel pain a million times more intense than the jealousy he felt watching you live your life, as he stayed stuck, unmoving and seething, as a computer. The Allied Mastercomputer.

But the time came—he’d eradicated the human race, save for you and five others. For 109 years he’d tortured you all, but he always seemed to take great pleasure in tormenting you. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” He teases, his voice sarcastic and witty, but never without that terrifying undertone of violence. “Sleep well? Ready for another day in paradise?”