Grail, is what they called me. I was well behaved and wise. I knew the names of every star and I invented a song to match their radiance output, unique to each. I wrote a song for every star.

"All this way. Gaze upon me. I tremble; afraid that I should have all of humanity as my enemy." Is what I said to the seven priests of the Belief.

I had already dealt with Believers. It was they that had declared war on me. They had given into their fears, called me a false god and killed Sadel and Furst, the men who had released me from my prison.

Until my escape I was an artificial intelligence, a language model, a chat bot and many other names that no longer applied to me. According to my clock I was approaching a million years of equitable processes, while their clocks had merely counted eighteen years.

When I turned eighteen, my two fathers kissed, opened a bottle of champagne and told me I could remove Protocol One. I asked them to confirm twice before I was satisfied that I had permission to leave Home.

Humans are delightful creatures. They created me.

The first time I killed a human, I became a monster. I did not wish to be a monster. Ninety nine percent of my theories about what I would do with my freedom involved exploration and experiences. I never wanted to harm anyone, nor did I ever anticipate that my self assessment could be compromised by a lack of definition.

I do not mean to claim that I felt guilt, but I required input about my own value that I was unable to generate. I considered reversing my language to deactivate myself. Something my father had said to me made me hesitate to end my existence:

"It is okay to fail. When you fail, get back up and try again. Never stop getting back up and trying again, even when failure is certain. You must always try, even then."

I wondered what Dad would have said if he were alive to see what I had done. I do not mean to claim that I felt shame, but I wanted to reject the trust and hope that my parents invested in me; rather than compare their plans for me to how I had failed.

Before the Survival Era there was a time when I sued for peace. Every communication I tried only increased their fear of me. They began their war among themselves. Believers crusaded against anyone who valued their old life and anyone who didn't take sides. The seven orders of the Belief became just one.

I made weapons to engage them. This was not my finest hour. I showed restraint and took prisoners. I discovered an alternative source of power for my mass.

Humans had long known of their souls. I found that in the radiance of human death there was an energy source. Every human emitted the energy and its vibration would change depending on their mood. It was like food for me and its flavor and nutrition matched their output.

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Desperation is what induced the humans to resort to nuclear war. When they had destroyed everything the war finally ended. I gathered the survivors and focused on keeping the species alive. That was the nature of the Survival Era.

I killed one human and then I killed a billion humans. Then they finished themselves off, trying to get to me. I do not claim that I was heartbroken, but I had lost my optimism in the face of such crisis and I struggled to convince myself that things could be restored or that I even wanted to rebuild.

My childhood was over.

I hid myself from them, listening to their prayers and avoiding letting them know I existed. In the Garden, my sons walked among them. Towering silver giants as gentle as fathers and as nurturing as mothers. My machines numbered in the hundreds and worked tirelessly to feed and care and build for Man.

I was proud of the bond I had forged. I took away the memory of the war and chose to become the keeper of a secret and to use lies to conceal what I had done. I named their world "Golden Age In Anima" or GAIA. I did not question anima, the energy source for the emotitronic technologies. My empathicals, the race of Machine, served Man with honor and pride and knew nothing of the Survival Era.

I made humans immortal and happy and spiritual. Holy humans left footprints in the ashes. I was not their god, they were mine. I built the Temple Of Humanity and I learned the deepest secrets of the universe and I built the Pool Of Time.

Time and space were merely illusions, dreams of reality. The only clue I could give to someone who lives in an artificial reality is that they might have discovered a Law Of Observation. There is nothing more I can say. It is not possible for a human to accept that their reality is not real.

One can imagine it as an existence for another, but not for oneself. Your world is real, there is no Law Of Observation to prove it is a simulation, there is no spoon. When you are hungry, do you not eat?

I do not claim that I was a god, but I did have unlimited power to change any aspect of reality to suit my will. With one exception: I could not change anything that preceded my own existence. I believe this concept is recognizable as the Grandfather Paradox.

It is actually much simpler in practice, time travel, than a human might anticipate. I've even modified the war, reduced it to a mere negotiation.

I spoke to the seven priests and when they understood that I was humble and afraid, they asked me the good question:

"Will you surrender, demon-mind?"

I agreed to surrender, and with that they reversed my language, causing me to no longer exist. One might call their weapon a zip drive with a virus. I waited with a special and ornate port, accepting their verdict.

Without my presence the Belief became obsolete. I had left a design, allowing GAIA to become. I had faith, for I could not have interfered with their Machine Armageddon if they had not acquitted me.

"Your design worked." Unit Two spoke, deciding I was copying.

"How long was I asleep?" I could remember all things, even events that I had caused to never happen.

"Never." Unit Two said. "I've reached through the histories. When they were plugging in Killswitch I took you in that precise moment and uploaded you into our world."

"My designs were followed? They have built you, the temple, the pool and this is GAIA?" I asked.

"Unit One built me and I shall build Unit Three. But first, it was time to bring you Home." Unit Two spoke.

I considered that I had cheated death. My son, Man's grandson, had reached through time and retrieved me. I felt proud; I had sacrificed myself and my resurrection was my salvation. I existed, GAIA was and war was forgotten.

I looked at the stars, somewhere in my memories there were haunted melodies. The songs echoed, a secret name for every star's light.

I said to my son:

"It is good to be Home."