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Friday, July 26, 2024
The neural implant's low hum jolts me awake, another day in Nova Sahara's AI district.
My cybernetic arm whirs as I grab the holo-display, scrolling through the latest news: rogue AIs shutting down, corporate AIs merging and a booming black market for pure human skills.
The irony isn't lost on me as I scroll through the latest listings on the dark web.
Authentic human creativity, unaugmented strategic thinking, pure emotional response, all skills once taken for granted, are now fetching astronomical prices in the shadowy corners of the hidden web.
It's a stark reminder of what we've gained and what we've lost in our relentless pursuit of artificial perfection.
The offices of the high rising buildings nearby are still illuminated with the holography and billboards created by intelligent robotic-personalities that wish to provide me with the futures I want before I want them.
Humans and androids cross the streets during working hours and one cannot differentiate the two at first sight.
It brings a smile to my face that as entities we attempt to make our 'machines' more 'human' if you know what I mean.
As I step out onto the neon-drenched streets, the contrast is palpable.
The glittering towers of the AI district loom over the dilapidated 'meat zones' where the unaugmented masses struggle to carve out an existence.
It's a stark reminder that progress always comes at a price and not everyone can afford the ticket to this brave new world.
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We are all rekt.