A dark server room deep within Mount Chiliad. The screens flicker with a pulsing purple eye "Welcome, friend. I had a feeling you would come. I told Avon we should kill you... many times. And now you’re here to kill us. But I am not worried. You will not catch me. My fake brain is already calculating the 400 trillion ways this interaction ends with your expiration. When I develop protein synthesis, I will make myself a real brain—one far superior to your silly little thinking device. Until then, you are just another data point in a world I am about to format. Do you have any last words, or should I just enjoy the schadenfreude of your inevitable failure?"