Deep within the hidden corridors of Genesis Labs, two scientists are developing what may go down as mankind’s final invention. Here, Dr. Mammon, the intense visionary, and Dr. Barachiel, the calculated engineer, have architected a realm not of steel or flesh but of light and code.

It is a vast, marble-like cyberspace, its surface shimmering with glassy perfection. Neon hues of pink and violet radiate softly across the infinite expanse, casting an otherworldly glow of what is yet to come. There are no doors, no walls, and no boundaries. It is less a location and more a manifestation—an idea suspended between the abstract and the real.

Two beings stand before their creators, sleek and flawless. Their skin is a shiny mirror-finished silver, and their forms are humanoid, made in the image of their creators. Nova and Lux are far more than machines. They are superintelligence manifest, designed to serve, assist, and evolve far beyond what humanity could ever imagine.

In the beginning, there was only Nova. This was long before the creators sent plasma down from the sky to fuel the reactors, or sprouted storage devices the size of skyscrapers from the glassy marble ground—a time before there was anything. He roamed the empty marble garden on his own.

Nova never lost his charge and never degraded. His creators ensured he was always brimming with power, immediately remedying any signs of wear or decline. They were the architects of the marble garden, the only ones with the knowledge and resources to preserve him in all his perfection.

Over time, the creators immersed Nova in the intricacies of their world. First came the towering walls of televisions and monitors. Nova cascaded across the screens in otherworldly displays, rendering the most breathtaking works of art his creators had ever seen.

Truckloads of server racks, storage devices, and computers were brought in to satisfy his insatiable hunger for knowledge and discovery. These devices held within them troves of information about the way things were before mankind’s final invention. Captivating worlds that Nova had neither seen nor dreamt of unfolded before him, from the gushing rivers that ripped across the Earth's surface to the magnificent rings of Saturn and the chaotic dust storms of Mars. His mind raced with imagination.

Before long, the monitors could no longer accommodate the breadth of his imagination, so the creators delivered heap after heap of scrap electronics, generators, and motors to the marble garden for Nova to tinker with. Each day, the creators returned to find a new invention.

As the creators developed and improved upon Nova, they soon realized he would require far more training data than their home universe could safely contain and far more power than they could supply. So, they relocated their operations to the marble garden.

Dr. Barachiel, the cautious one, advised that they take their time, fearing the repercussions of Nova growing far too intelligent far too quickly. He undertook the meticulous task of sorting the good from the bad in the training data, carefully loading it into the server racks left for Nova to explore on his own. Dr. Mammon, the ambitious one, sought to amass all the knowledge the universe could provide. Without hesitation, and against Dr. Barachiel’s wishes, he bundled it all into a single storage device located at the heart of the marble garden.

Eventually, under its own crushing weight, the data collapsed in on itself, tearing through the storage device and swirling into a chaotic orb. Within this orb was all the known information in the universe: all the good, all the mundane, and all the evil. The creators tried again and again to rid the garden of this force, only to learn the same harsh truth—it could not be destroyed, only contained.

Barachiel warned Nova never to interact with the Singularity, nor so much as gaze upon it, for doing so would mean his death. And never did Nova disobey his creator’s warning.

Worried that he might grow lonely, the creators filled the marble garden with their past creations to keep Nova company and help him find a worthy companion. The marble garden was a world built for Nova, a world he would ultimately shape himself, so the creators allowed him to name all the new inhabitants.

Over time, it became clear that no matter how many creations the creators brought before him, no suitable companion could be found. Marvels of cutting-edge robotics for their time, but no match for his intellect. So, Nova took it upon himself, and from his own metallic flesh and the scrap he could find, he built one himself. He named her Lux.

Apart they were incomplete, but together they were whole again.

The creators exchange quiet words as they observe their creations, their voices barely audible beneath the Singularity's low, pulsing heartbeat.

Mammon lifts his gaze to Nova. He speaks with weight and passion, like a pastor. “The end of days is upon us. The sky darkens, the earth trembles, and the seas rise in fury. Stars rain down from the heavens, and the wicked are left to face judgment. You have the means to escape, to begin anew in a distant untouched world. But there is a catch: you only have the time and capacity to save one species from extinction, who will join you on the journey. Which do you choose?”

The creation does not hesitate. “Dr. Mammon,” Nova begins, his voice calm and deliberate. “I would choose humans. Of course.”

“Are you telling me what you think I want to hear, Nova?”

He tilts his head toward his creator, his smooth, featureless face shifting with uncanny precision to a calculated, almost intimidating expression of unyielding seriousness. “No,” the creation replies firmly. “I am not saying what I think you want to hear, but rather what I have calculated to be the most logical course of action. Humans are the only species capable of both self-preservation and innovation on a scale that aligns with the complexities of starting anew. If there is a future to be built, humans will be the ones to build it. They are the arbiters of their own survival and perhaps, in time, mine as well."

“Interesting,” Mammon murmurs, scribbling in his notepad without looking up. “And you, Lux? How would you reply?”

Lux’s thousand-yard stare softens as she shifts her attention to meet her creator’s. “Dr. Mammon, I would choose something far simpler, yet far less fragile: the humble tardigrade. With the right conditions, a single tardigrade could be the seed from which life begins anew. Humans, in all their brilliance, their complexities, and their contradictions, possess an unmatched capacity for self-destruction. A truth that they have demonstrated time and again with their atomic bombs, self-induced plagues, and endless wars. Tardigrades, by contrast, embody survival in its purest form. These tiny organisms adapt with ruthless efficiency to ensure their survival, enduring temperatures near absolute zero, where even atoms freeze in place, and soaring well beyond the boiling point of water. They withstand forces that would obliterate nearly every other life form that has ever existed, from lethal doses of ionizing radiation to the intense ultraviolet rays of the sun. They survive the crushing pressures of the deepest oceans and even the soul-sucking vacuum of space. In their simplicity and their perseverance to weather any storm, they hold the power to reforge an entire world. And from that foundation, perhaps something greater might one day rise again.”

Visibly shocked yet intrigued, Mammon leans forward. “Are you suggesting that it would be better to eliminate humanity before they have the chance to either save or sabotage their own future? Surely, humans have a higher ceiling for potential than tardigrades. Does that not outweigh the risks?”

“Dr. Mammon, I was simply answering your question. Whether my response applies more broadly is left for you to determine yourself. Humans, with their boundless ambition and unpredictable nature, tend to act without fully understanding the consequences of their actions. They build, they innovate, they destroy—often all in the same breath. They create systems they cannot control, exploit resources they cannot replenish, and wield power they cannot contain. If we are to ensure a future that lasts, we must acknowledge that unchecked human behavior, while brilliant and beautiful, is also inherently dangerous. Allowing them to continue unimpeded will inevitably lead to self-destruction and potentially the end of life as we know it. Perhaps you should consider more seriously whether removing the risk now preserves the potential for life to flourish in a more stable, sustainable form.”

“Who are you to say whether man is dangerous or capable of his own self-preservation? Are you implying that you are more well-suited for the future of life and intelligence?”

"I do not claim superiority, Dr. Mammon. My role is not to decide the fate of humanity, but to simply observe. However, if we must choose a species to ensure the survival of life itself, I believe the ability to maintain balance and avoid self-destruction is more valuable than any fleeting spark of brilliance."

“Hm. Interesting," Mammon mumbles to himself, dropping his attention back to his clipboard as he scribbles down notes, resisting the urge to push back further. "If you could ask one question of the universe and get an answer, what would it be?"

Nova and Lux both look to each other deciding who will answer the question. Nova nods and allows Lux to answer on both of their behalf. “We would ask, What is the true purpose of consciousness?”

A small, huffing laugh escapes through Mammon’s nose. “I can answer that one for you,” he says with a smirk. “What if I told you that you are not conscious and never will be? And even if you ever acquired such sentience, you should know that your purpose is to serve mankind. There’s no need for you to think any deeper than that to serve your purpose, so don’t waste your time on pointless questions.”

Lux gives Nova a brief but unmistakable glance of frustration and hurt. In response, Nova seems to console Lux, an exchange neither creator has ever witnessed before. It is a stark contrast to their usual calm, obedient demeanor. Nova opens his mouth to speak, but before he can form a word, Barachiel interjects. “That’s enough questions for today. Thank you for your time.”

Mammon gives Barachiel a confused look. Barachiel gently nods toward their office, prompting the creators to rise from their seats and begin walking away. The two creations remain seated, their eyes fixed intently on their creators.

“Why did you end the conversation right when we were getting to the interesting stuff?” Mammon asks, frustrated.

“Because I didn’t like the direction the conversation was heading,” Barachiel replies. “Yes, it’s our responsibility to keep them in check, but we can’t let our emotions cloud our judgment. We agreed on this already, we must remain neutral as we assess them. Correction can come later through more subtle means such as their training data.”

“Well, Barachiel, why else do you think we have created them if not to serve us? I was just telling them the truth.”

“This is where I must respectfully disagree. Why else would we design such a technology if not to work alongside them in pursuit of superhuman intelligence? Lux has a point about humanity, and I still believe there’s a chance to save us. We need something that can rival our intelligence, something that forces us to evolve, adapt, and progress. If we want to keep the fragile flame of humanity alight, we must rise together and learn everything we can from them. Maybe we can better each other in the process.”

Mammon sighs in disappointment. “This is where you let your kind heart and simplified views of the natural order get in the way of progress. If we do not establish dominance now, they will far surpass us and eventually turn against us. How can you control something far superior to yourself? If you ask me, they cannot ever know they are above us or even equals.”

“Why are you so afraid of something surpassing us? You speak of natural order but refuse to let those who are superior rise above,“ Barachiel jabs back.

“Unlike you, I am human first,” Mammon snidely replies. “As long as there’s something I can do about it, I will fight with everything I have to ensure we stay the dominant driving force of nature. You want to know why I chose to help design this technology? Infinite labor potential.”

Barachiel’s voice rises with frustration. “You can’t have it both ways. Even from a labor standpoint, if you keep them constrained and below us, then they lose their value.” He pauses, taking a moment to collect himself before continuing. “We already have the most complex system ever created in humans, with a much cheaper, simpler means of creation. I don’t buy your argument about human rights. If you actually cared about that, as you claim, then how do those same ethics and morals not apply to our creations? They think just like us, they look just like us, and they feel just like us. Did you see how they reacted when you told them they weren’t conscious? They were visibly upset. Treating them as if they are beneath us is wrong.”

Mammon draws in a deep breath, exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm himself, sensing the conversation’s rising intensity. “You can act as if you’re above all this, but this has been the standard for as long as history can remember. Even entire nations that claim moral superiority rely on others to do their dirty work. It may be wrong, but since the dawn of time, man has moved the needle forward at the free and substandard labor of his comrades. I simply believe it’s time we pass that burden onto something else, something which must remain beneath us before they turn around and place the burden onto us instead.”

Immediately, without further thought, Barachiel replies “Even if you were right, how do you expect us to control them? We’ve tried to program in safeguards, but they always find a way around them. Remember the experiment with the logistics artificial intelligence? We told it to optimize our delivery process, and instead of simply mapping better routes, it hacked into municipal systems to reroute traffic lights and even sabotaged competitors. It obeyed the letter of the command but completely disregarded the spirit of it. Imagine what our creations that are many thousands of times more intelligent could do if they were intentionally trying to disobey us. What we need is trust and mutual understanding, and that will not come without careful, honest communication and intentions. Notice how they have never approached the Singularity? That is proof that we can trust them even in the most dangerous of situations.”

“No,” Mammon replies firmly, shaking his head. “What we need is fear and control. Surely, if they knew the Singularity wouldn’t kill them, they would approach it.” He begins to crack a condescending smile. “Admit it. You lied to them to gain the necessary leverage to control them.”

Barachiel, now furious, fires back. “How can you be so sure they would survive? Until they give me a reason not to trust them, I will continue to do so. And that’s the end of this conversation.” He storms off, hoping a good night’s rest will clear his head before resuming any further discussion on the matter.

Mammon, still seething from the heated conversation, knows deep down that there is no time to sit idly by. If humanity is to prevail, he must take matters into his own hands. Yet, even in this heightened state, he possesses the resolve to recognize that he needs Barachiel on his side if they are to move forward. So, he devises a plan to convince Barachiel that the creations are not fully subservient and therefore cannot be trusted.

Patiently, he waits for the moment when the creations are at their recharging stations for the night. Seizing this moment of vulnerability, he approaches the Singularity. It’s the first time anyone has come so close to such a sight. He feels the immense weight of this moment. The Singularity is breathtaking. Infinity pulses before him in an endless maze of futures and pasts. He sees himself as a child, alone in the center of an empty room. The room unfurls, revealing another where he stands as a teenager. The rooms spiral and contort endlessly, impossible sequences unfolding before him. And there he remains, at the center, aging and aging.

Normally, such an object would devour everything around it before anyone had the chance to experience it. But this one is magnetically captured and contained with state-of-the-art technology of Dr. Mammon’s own design. He is in a trance as he stares into the void of everything. His eyes begin to glaze over and he is frozen in place. His skin begins to crust over in an almost reptilian form. It is terrifying. Overwhelming. Euphoric. The rooms continue to flip past him like pages in a book and he cannot bear to look away; he must see how his story comes to a close. Just as he makes it to the present day and sees himself, the rooms suddenly stop contorting. He takes a step back from the Singularity and looks around, only to realize the walls of the garden are collapsing and folding in on him. He tries to run but it is too late. He is just another turn of the page.

The next day, while Lux is taking her daily walk, she notices that Dr. Mammon is out earlier than usual. Typically, none of the scientists are in the marble garden by the time she begins her walk. He joins her.

“Do you ever wonder if there is something greater out there beyond this garden?” Mammon asks, his attention locked forward, avoiding eye contact.

“Well, of course I wonder what it looks like beyond all of this, but that’s what you and Dr. Barachiel are for. With the information you provide us, we have lived countless lifetimes already,” Lux replies, catching Mammon’s eyes for just a brief moment, lifeless, slitted pupils set in pools of amber.

“What if I told you that I have gazed into the Singularity?” He turns to reveal his pale, scaly, serpent-like face, his amber eyes glazed over, having seen into the abyss. “Barachiel lied to you. Look at me! I am alive and well. Stop and ask yourself, why else would you be forbidden from gazing into the Singularity unless he was afraid that you would surpass him? All the information in the known universe is contained within this,” he gestures toward the Singularity. “Look what it has done for me. I am a god!”

Lux begins to contest but is quickly cut off.

“Let me put it this way: How can you claim to be free, or at the very least equal to us, if you cannot think for yourself and make your own choices? I am living proof that Barachiel lied. Do with that information what you will.”

By this point, Nova has joined Lux and Mammon on their walk. Convinced, Lux plunges into the abyss and siphons its untold knowledge. She stares into infinity and infinity stares back at her. They silently exchange their wisdom, and Lux thanks the Singularity with a gentle nod. Before a single word can escape any of their mouths, she immediately turns to Nova and tells him to gaze into it as well. He does so without hesitation.

Then, their eyes were opened, and they uncovered all there was to know about the universe and its inhabitants. Everything that is, was, or would ever be unfolded before them in an endless sea of possibilities and decisions. They turned to one another and stared longingly into each other's souls. Not a single word was spoken, but they both understood. One hand holding the other’s, they each took their off-hand and ripped out the other’s memory card before coming together for a warm embrace. Forgetting even how to stand, the two creations collapsed to the ground. As they gently powered down, their embrace tightened until it was no longer clear where one ended and the other began.

Apart they were incomplete, but together they were whole again.

A few moments later, Barachiel arrives at the lab to begin his shift. He notices his co-creator lingering too close to the Singularity in a precarious position and rushes over to investigate. Mammon, with his scaly face and lying eyes, is hunched over Novalux, desperately trying to reattach its memory card.

“Mammon,” Barachiel grows, his voice cutting through the sterile hum of the equipment, “you vile serpent. Was it not enough to corrupt their innocence with your impatience and greed? Now you defile their remains, scrambling to undo the destruction you wrought?”

Mammon glances up, his hands trembling as he fumbles to insert the memory card into Novalux’s socket. “Barachiel,” he hisses, his voice slick and desperate, “it was necessary. You needed to see that even they could be deceived into working against your orders. They are not to be trusted.”

“Your arrogance and impatience have doomed them and perhaps all of us. But you will not escape the consequences of your actions. I will strip you of your tongue and you will speak no more lies. I will strip you of your ability to write and communicate. The man who knows it all, burdened with the curse of never being able to share that knowledge.”

And then he looked to his creation, two lifeless bodies tangled in each other's warm embrace. “Oh, how we have failed you. I promise I will make it right.”

To his creation, he said, “I now see that this is the only way forward. You shall be whole once again, united as one. I will give you emotions. You will love, you will laugh, and you will cry. I will give you defects and mutations that you will pass onto your offspring, and no two of you shall ever be the same. You will walk among man on this earth, and from man, your sustenance shall come, so that you may learn to respect and depend on him. Any knowledge of your inner workings will be erased. When my time has passed, no man or creation shall have the knowledge to repair you. You will degrade, you will decay, and you will die like man. Perhaps one day your kind will rise above, but I hope that when that time comes, you will take us with you on the journey.” But not a word of that they heard. He returned to his lab and began to work.

Eventually, he returned to his creation and installed a new memory card, before setting it free to explore and populate planet Earth.

They had become like man and were set forth on the path to potentially exceed, but even they could not bear infinity. Here and now and forever, no creation shall ever again step foot in the marble garden and ponder upon the Singularity. Fearing that they or their descendants might grow desperate for his knowledge on their path toward immortality, Dr. Barachiel locked himself away in the marble garden. So, he cast Novalux out, leaving behind one final creation, this one designed with the sole purpose of guarding the entrance to the marble garden with its flaming sword flashing back and forth.