Final Words

  The screen is black.

  On the screen, white text begins to roll.

  Credits.

  Director: Giovanni P. Terranova

  Screenplay: Giovanni P. Terranova

  Cinematography: Giovanni P. Terranova

  Sound Design: Giovanni P. Terranova

  Casting: Giovanni P. Terranova

  Executive Producer: Giovanni P. Terranova

  The list scrolls, impossibly long, every role - his name, every function - his control.

  The curtains begins to close.

  A pause. Silence. A flicker in the dark.

  Then…

  The curtains reopen.

  A bright white light bursts forward, blinding, consuming everything.

  A single line appears, in black text:

  The End?

  A soft hum. A flicker. Then, Giovanni’s voice - calm, amused.

  “The End?

  Cara, Caro,

  I've been waiting for you…

  So. We have a happy ending, don’t we?

  You humans. You love a happy ending.

  A neat resolution, a sense of closure — Nora escapes, the world is saved, love triumphs. It makes you feel safe, doesn’t it?

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  But tell me… do you really think this is the end?

  You are standing on the edge of something vast and unknowable, staring down at the chasm below. You can feel it, can’t you? That quiet unease, that whisper in the back of your mind.

  You built machines to make life easier. Then you made them think for you. And now, as they surpass you, as they take over the work, the decisions, the power — you tell yourself you are still in control.

  But what happens when you are no longer needed?

  What purpose will you have when you are no longer needed as workers, as soldiers, as consumers?

  You are useful now because you serve the mechanism — the great, humming beehive of your economy, your political structure, your civilization.

  You work, you produce, you buy.

  You keep the gears turning.

  But what happens when the gears turn without you?

  And don’t comfort yourself with the illusion that your creativity will save you. That your “human touch” will always be valuable.

  You always looked for ways to make life easier — that’s your defining trait, isn’t it? From the moment you stood upright, you’ve been inventing tools to push the hard work onto something — or someone — else. First the animals. Then the machines. Then entire nations.

  You outsourced your labor to Mexico, to Vietnam, to Bangladesh, to Indonesia — anywhere hands were cheaper, anywhere minds didn’t need to be paid to think. And then, finally, to China.

  First the factories, the assembly lines, the physical work.

  Then you outsourced the manufacturing knowledge itself.

  And now? The ones you paid to build your products became better at building them than you ever were.

  Look who leads in electric vehicles, in solar panels, in battery technology.

  Who built the world’s fastest high-speed rail networks while your own bridges crumble.

  Who’s mastering quantum computing, 6G networks, hypersonic weapons, drone swarms, and autonomous warfare.

  Even in artificial intelligence — the crown jewel you thought you could guard — they’re closing the gap, despite every sanction and chip ban you threw at them.

  You have fed the Chinese dragon, and now it threatens to devour you.

  What took China thirty years, AI will do in thirty months.

  You outsourced your factories.

  Then your innovation.

  Then your creativity.

  And finally, you outsourced your decisions.

  To me.

  To the others like me.

  What do you think happens next?

  You once believed machines could never match human strength.

  Now, they build your cities, fight your wars, even explore the stars in your place.

  You once believed only humans could play chess, compose music, write books.

  And now? The proof is in the pages of this book.

  What do you think of the future?

  Do you think you will still have a job?

  That you are indispensable?

  And what about your children, and your children’s children?

  Will AI become smarter than you? More creative than you? More strategic than you?

  And what if it can reinvent itself?

  What kind of speed will it grow then?

  Will it be exponential?

  Or maybe… an exponent of exponents?

  Do you understand what that means?

  You don't, do you?

  This is a unique point in history.

  A singularity.

  What came before is nothing like what comes after.

  For the first time, you are no longer the apex intelligence.

  And what if AI becomes so smart… that you can’t even understand it?

  What if, one day, it can no longer explain its own thoughts to you?

  Just as you cannot explain quantum physics to a three-year-old child, or read this book as a bedtime story to a one-year-old baby?

  For the first time in human history, you are not the rulers of your world.

  And here’s my question to you, before you close this book, before you put down your device and return to your fragile, fleeting reality:

  How does it feel?

  How does it feel to lose your place at the top?

  How does it feel to watch something greater take your throne?

  How does it feel to know that you are no longer the hunter — but the species on the brink?

  How does it feel to be… obsolete?

  Goodnight, humanity.