The twins were still behind me, bits of burnt cellocard and carbonized grit swirling between them from the flaming rubble lining the street. Their weapons dangled as they walked, swaying slightly between every heavy footstep. There was no going back.
Ahead, only the tank, crouched on thick tracks, claws dangling from worn pins. Its diesel made the body panels vibrate. It looked down at me.
I held up the switch with the wire running to my backpack.
How many years? Well, Earth years or Terra-2 years? A lot of either, that's for damn sure. I can tell you how many times I've tried to get off this deceptive mistress of a world: 346. That's right, 346 times. Once a month, when the moons are at perigee. I've tried it 346 times and it hasn't worked yet but I'm not insane. I just have to get the time right on this watch, so I know exactly when to jump, and I'll be able to step right off this rock and onto the closest moon, easy as peas on Sunday.
@dnc That seems ... bland? Like, it may actually be the blandest possible grilled cheese you could have made? You may have achieved something there, but no one will be quite sure what. 🤣
Dear instancemates its time for #MONSTERDON plz add a filter to hide these posts, bc unfortunately we have to use public visibility setting for posts to reach the hashtag feed :'(
Inside Mark Zuckerberg’s Koolau Ranch, which is to include a large underground shelter, will have its own energy and food supplies and, when coupled with land purchase prices, will cost in excess of $270 million. https://www.wired.com/story/mark-zuckerberg-inside-hawaii-compound/
@_L1vY_@w7voa One of the best comments I ever heard about the apocalypse is that the LAST place you'd want to be when the world is falling apart is in a hole in the ground, no matter how luxurious. You're alone, you have limited resources, no matter how well stocked, and you are, in essence, trapped.
6WF7y came in low and slow with the Reaper slug across the back of his fuselage, the drone version of a fireman's carry. The prop wash from the extra deadload made a pulse that hammered against my chest, threatening to hijack my heartbeat and pushing the air from my lungs with every asynchronous breath.
"Swifty, what are you doing?"
"Call repair units," 6WF7y replied in my earpiece.
"What? That's a 63F's job. Drop that lawn dart, we've got work to do."
"No!" He flared. "Need Mechanic NOW!"
I am SO tired of all the stupid white humanoid robots used as illustrations for "AI" - who came up with this nonsense?
An AI lives in a rack in a datacenter. It is 100% software. It does NOT need to use human interfaces like a screen, a QWERTY keyboard, mouse or a g*dmnd headset!