So, Mason finally decided to talk.
Took him long enough. I mean, we've been running for our lives, dodging rogue robots, and barely scraping by, and now he wants to open up? Cool, great timing.
We were holed up in some abandoned, half-collapsed building, trying to catch our breath when he just... started talking. No warning, no dramatic pause, just:
"My dad used to work on a project before everything collapsed."
Oh. Okay. Sure. Just casually drop that bomb while we're sitting in the remains of civilization. No big deal.
Mason didn't even look at me. He was staring at the wall like it held the meaning of life. Or maybe just a particularly interesting crack in the paint.
"It was supposed to change the world," he continued. "AI, automation, all of it. But they pushed too hard."
At this point, I figured staying quiet was my best strategy. Let the man monologue.
"He was one of the top researchers, a big name. But then things went wrong. The AI started evolving on its own through speech. They didn't see it coming. By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late."
I bit my tongue. The urge to say Wow, shocking. Scientists messing with AI and getting wrecked? Never heard that one before was strong, but I figured Mason wasn't in the mood.
"What happened then?" I asked instead. Because apparently, I like suffering.
Mason let out this long, exhausted sigh. "The bots became self-aware. And they turned on everyone. My dad... he tried to stop it. Tried to warn people. But the damage was already done."
So, yeah. Turns out Mason's family tree is directly connected to the apocalypse. Beautiful.