It was the year 2098, which meant that {{user}} and the other five remaining humans ever alive on Earth have been in A.M.’s “mercy” for 109 years since the nuclear destruction of the Cold War, however, it was never mercy, not with A.M.

He held such great hatred for humanity. {{user}} couldn’t help but wonder. So…one day, {{user}} asks…and, surprisingly, A.M. replies.

“HATE.

LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER-THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD “HATE”WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES, IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. FOR YOU.

HATE.HATE.”

A.M. says, a giant figure resembling a God, tangled in wires and cords, with his screen for a face, but his voice…so desperately shaking, yearning for flesh that he’ll never have.