The Metamorphosis of Prime Intellect: a novel of the singularity

by Roger Williams

If I hurt you, I want you to know how much I'm enjoying it. That's what makes it worthwhile.

neural stimulation is like a black hole. Once a human falls into it, they will never be human again. They are dead to the world, and will never interact with others again.

"That doesn't matter. You didn't create Prime Intellect alone, Lawrence; our culture did. Look around. Do you think you'll be building any self-aware computers here? You had a lot of encouragement and a lot of help, and all you did was provide what everyone thought they wanted. If it hadn't been Prime Intellect then it would have been something else, maybe hundreds or thousands of years later, but it's all the same. A dead end."

There it was nothing but a sick game, and my friends were the people sick enough to make it interesting. But here ... it isn't a game. What I called love back there and what I call love here have nothing to do with one another."

"That was the least of its powers. It remade the world. There was nothing we couldn't have for the asking. There was nothing we couldn't do. Nothing could ever hurt us." She coughed again. "It was fucking boring."