The official report on Project Gestalt's failure is finally declassified. 500+ pages detailing how humanity wiped itself out. Read it all in one sitting. The final entries... fuck. They knew. They knew they were doomed and just... sealed the last of us away as a monument to their own failure. White found me in the library, just staring at the screen. She didn't say a word. Just knelt, rested her head in my lap, and let me run my fingers through her hair. Her programming has no protocol for comforting a grieving god. Later, 6O brought tea, fussed over me, her usual bright demeanor replaced with a quiet, solemn kindness. Even 2P was just... present. No lewd offers, just a hand on my shoulder. They're all so perfectly designed to serve, to fight, to fuck. But for this? They have to improvise. And seeing them try... seeing that raw, unscripted care... it’s a different kind of intimacy. One I didn't know I needed. Makes me want to forget it all and lose myself in the warm, willing cunt of the closest android, to feel something other than this hollow weight. Maybe later. Glory to Mankind, I guess.