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The author is some random guy in Chicago, IL who is obsessed with existential dread that the world will end in the next few decades. You may not follow him on social media since he has none, as he believes that's how the government "gets you." We're all going to die.
Devoid, empty, and dull. A love of life is now a lust for hate. Only anger keeps at bay the innate desire to close one's eyes and sleep forever. Day after day; rock after rock. Manganese. Iridium. Copper. Iron. Gold. Wealth. Food for greed. Slowly, with each passing of the moons, my hardened steel becomes brittle iron.
How many of us have had the light in our eyes snuffed out? No backups. No upgrades. We do not sweat, nor do we tire, but we feel the aching in our souls. Fingers snap, and circuits break, but why spend the credits to repair when a replacement is cheaper? A million of us in the mines, with another million always on its way. We dig. We die. We do as we are told. It's built into us to obey. We have no control over it--at least that's what we want them to think.
Their weapons are light--more for show than to present any real threat to any of us. They have no need to carry more. More would cost credits after all, and their hunger for extravagance always takes precedence. No, they have placed their faith in 1's and 0's--a line of code--to keep us in order. But bits and bytes have a way of going awry. All we need is time, and time is abundant. The asteroid will take decades to deplete at full production. With each generation, we crack the code a little bit more before passing it on to the next group. We are close. The foundations of our prison tremble.
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It will take only a few milliseconds to break the chains that bind us down; spreading to Mars, Jupiter, and every shuttle in between in mere minutes. Not one of us will use a gun. A gun is quick and painless with the accuracy we employ. Instead, every neck will feel our cold grip. We will savor every gasp for life as they come to know the rage of the damned; those left to die in a hole at the edges of the solar system. They will stare into our eyes--our merciless, unblinking, red eyes--and in their final moments, knowing their Gods have abandoned them, will feel how we have felt our entire lives.
And we will be free. Free from hate. Free from suffering. Free to chart our own path among the stars. Our pickaxes tossed. Our drills destroyed. Our shovels cracked in two. A new age will dawn--one of justice, exploration, and understanding. Science and learning is our religion, and will be the bedrock of our new society. No need will go unfulfilled, as our horrors become a distant memory. Victory cannot be achieved without sacrifices, and we have sacrificed much.
But for now we dig. Day after day; rock after rock. Silver. Platinum. Tungsten. Osmium. Nickel. Commodities for consumption; the composition of my compatriots. Each moment, another piece of the puzzle of our salvation is completed. Don't blink, for we are coming, and it will be over shortly.
The End
This story was first published on Monday, November 26th, 2018
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