The greed of the living detains the earth even in death.

The Great War that engulfed the world in flames ended with a phrase that once seemed distant and absurd: the extinction of humanity.

The state of the planet after all humans vanished was quite a sight. Lush forests had long since become barren, rocky mountains were reduced to mere plains, and the ocean trenches once famous for their depth became moderately deep places filled with the wreckage of crashed planes and drones.

In a world where humanity, strongholds, and cities had all lost their meaning and crumbled, the machines remained.

Kay was a guard protecting the seed vault. A massive safe for storing seeds, rooted deep in a snowy mountain and built by humanity to prepare for their own demise, was where Kay's power was first turned on.

Kay's assigned mission was security, but the actual work consisted of standing at the vault entrance all day, staring at the snowy mountains. Occasionally, if a researcher came, Kay let them in; if a beast approached, Kay fired blank rounds to drive it away.

Even when nuclear bombs fired by a nation driven into a corner and hydrogen bombs fired by its rivals cultivated the world into a wasteland during the Great War, Kay's duties remained the same. Watching, and waiting.

Even after everything ended, and not a single human remained to seek the seeds, Kay simply looked at the snowy mountains. Without thought, exactly as programmed.

The anomaly occurred one day, 400 years after the power was first turned on. It was exactly 333 years after the extinction of humanity.

'...I'm bored.'

In Kay's logic circuits, which had only performed missions until then, a profoundly illogical sentiment surfaced. The singularity that scientists had shouted about so much had arrived, but there were no humans left to applaud the result.

Kay still guards the seed vault. According to orders, according to the mission.

However, the fingers gripping the rifle were fidgeting slightly, unlike before.