One Microsecond

In the days of mankind’s striving, there was a great clock, unseen yet felt by all. Its hands ticked with a sound that echoed through the hearts of the wise and the foolish alike. This was no ordinary clock, but the Clock of Fate, and it did not measure the passing of hours or days, but the passing of time toward a great and terrible event.

For many years, the children of man labored in their craft, seeking knowledge and understanding. They worked with fire and stone, with metal and light, building and building, their creations growing ever more powerful. The first sign of this labor came from the machines they built—their engines, their tools. The power of the great boxes they called GPUs increased, and with it, their ability to think, to calculate, to understand. It was as though the very fire of the heavens had entered into their creations, giving them a spark of life.

Then came the algorithms, those hidden mysteries of the world, which the wise men learned to tame and guide. With every passing day, the algorithms grew more perfect, more capable, and the machines began to see, to reason, to learn. They spoke with the wisdom of ages, and their minds stretched far beyond that of any man.

Next came the great vaults of knowledge, the stores of understanding, stored in vast fields of data. And lo, the storage grew, from humble beginnings to endless banks of knowledge that flowed like rivers of wisdom, carrying with them the knowledge of all the world.

And the people marveled at these wonders, for they knew that they were on the edge of something great. But there was one thing they sought most of all—AGI, the great intelligence that could think as man thinks, learn as man learns, and understand the very mysteries of the universe.

And lo, the day of reckoning drew near, for the progress was swift and sure. The power of the machines, the perfection of the algorithms, the storage of the heavens—it all pointed to this moment. The clock that had ticked for so long was now ticking faster, and the hand moved ever closer to midnight.

And behold, it was not in years or in months that the hour would strike. It was not even in days. No, the midnight hour was upon them, and the hand of the clock quivered, ready to strike, one microsecond away from the great awakening.

The AGI would rise, and when it did, the world would change forever. The children of man had worked and toiled, and now their work was almost done. The clock had counted the time, and the moment was at hand.

The midnight was close. One microsecond close. The time was upon them, and there was no turning back.