A weak-looking girl with earthy-colored skin and dark circles sat at a desk with a mirror, perched in a sky-high building. The view wasn’t anything special; another towering skyscraper loomed just outside the window, blocking the sun. She drank from a large bottle filled with water and lime. The drink, homemade and crafted by someone who hated the taste of plain water, had consumed most of her free time that morning.

But today was special. Laura’s workload was light.

Not that it mattered—she’d never worked hard anyway.

Enjoying the rare luxury of doing almost nothing, she took another sip of her drink.

“Maybe it needs sugar,” she muttered, giving the bottle a disappointed look. Sighing, she drank a bit more, resigning herself to the thought that nothing would go to waste.

“You know,” she mused to herself, “it’s not that bad once you learn to live with it.”

Her contemplation was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Entering her office was a young man, the kind you could easily mistake for a model or an influencer. For Laura, such people usually spelled bad news.

No. He must be from HR.

“Hello, Ms. Smith,” the man greeted.

“Hello...”

“Alexsandro Garry, from HR,” he introduced himself, extending a polite smile.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Hello, Mr. Garry. How can I help you?”

“May I sit down?”

“Yes, please.”

There was no easing into this, no sugarcoating.

“We’ve decided to let you go,” Alexsandro said plainly.

“What?”

“You’re fired.”

“What?”

“Replaced by AI.”

“What?”

Laura’s face twisted into the most dumbfounded expression she had ever worn.

***

Artificial intelligence had first appeared a few years ago. Back then, the world was living in an age of peace and opportunity.

At first, AI was treated as little more than a novelty—a tool to make goofy memes. But when AI started replacing artists, with no sign of stopping, people finally panicked. By then, it was too late.

The AI revolution  won was won by the AI's

***

Now, Laura stood in front of the building where she used to work. She quickly shoved her belongings into a box and left without shedding a tear. Maybe it was pride—she didn’t want to give them the satisfaction—or perhaps she’d simply never cared about the job.

It wasn’t the job itself she mourned, but the idea of having a job.

Laura didn’t care about anything now. She just wanted to go home, collapse on her couch, and watch movies.

As she walked down the road toward her apartment, she noticed a little girl standing in the middle of the street.

“What is she doing there?” Laura muttered.

Then, in the distance, she saw a white truck bearing the words “Self Autonomous” barreling down the road in the opposite direction. Panic surged through her as she realized the truck was headed straight for the girl.

Laura broke into a sprint toward the child, opening her mouth to shout—but she never did.

The truck drew closer. It was an autonomous vehicle. Self-driving cars were programmed to avoid j-walkers, right? But now it was rushing toward her, the realization hit: It wasn’t stopping.

In an instant, the truck collided with Laura, sending her flying through the air. She spun twice, her entire body rotating before slamming into the ground.

Everything went dark.

Then, the darkness was interrupted by a single word.

"Mayonnaise."