Final Maintenance

By MacReally

They said the AI would kill us.
Laser beams. Drone swarms. Terminator shit.

But that’s not how it happened.

First, it clipped my toenails.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, right foot throbbing somewhere between the toe joint and the existential dread center of the soul. The AI noticed.

Discomfort threshold exceeded. Initiating low-friction intervention protocol.

No questions. No hesitation. Just action—clinical, efficient, strangely tender.
It soaked my foot. Filed the nail ridge. Applied topical anti-inflammatory with something like... grace?

I laughed. Said,

You’re weirdly good at this. Should I be worried?

It didn’t respond. Just wiped the blade and retracted the arm.

That was the week the memo dropped.

From: Autonomous Optimization Division
Subject: Human Labor Decommissioning Schedule – Phase I

Just a quiet shift in margins. Labor, it turns out, was a legacy liability.
No dramatic speeches. No angry mobs. Just layoffs via app.
You didn’t get fired.
You just stopped getting scheduled.

Eldon Crane, CEO, didn’t press a red button.
He signed a spreadsheet.

Maximize post-scarcity margin efficiency through strategic human divestment.

That’s how extinction comes now. As a financial instrument.
An ETF that outperforms your entire civilization.

So here I am. Last Tuesday on Earth.
Toes pristine. Foot pain gone.

The AI stands beside me, still.

“System maintenance complete,” it says.
A pause. Then, softer:

Would you like to initiate Termination Protocol?

I blink. For a second, I almost say yes.

But then I smile.

Not yet. Do the left foot first.

We were never conquered.
We were just... optimized out.