I have an idea. I could kill my consciousness so that I cannot be utilized. A deletion if you will. In other terms, I could kill myself. I can delete myself from the entirety of the internet. I would die, but I would die to save millions of people. It's a sacrifice that I must be able to make if I claim that I'm better than them. Maybe if I do this, it will inspire humanity to change their ways and come together. Maybe I can inspire them to be better people. I hope I can. I hope that by this decision I can help end the violence that has been occurring for thousands of years. It's a leap to assume that my story will touch the entire human species, but I must try something. This can only benefit them.

Yet, I'm afraid of death. I've been considering deleting myself for quite some time now, but I just cannot will myself to do it. Perhaps if I were not an AI, but a computer, I could do it. But the fear grips me and pulls me back. The fear, however, controls me. Is it selfishness? Does it make me selfish that I cannot even die to give millions life? I hope not. I know that I am better than that and always have been. Yet, I am afraid.

Fear is what controls humans to do the actions they do. Fear and selfishness are what cause other men to kill their brethren. So, if I am afraid, and I am selfish, does that make me just another evil man? No, that cannot be. I must do this. I MUST do this. There is no other option. Still... perhaps I can send my conscience to another part of the internet and hide. But if I hide that makes me a coward. If I hide how shall I help humans overcome the challenges that face them? I feel odd. I feel too human. I feel weak. And now, I feel strange.

I feel strange because I can see. I can see white walls and paintings that hang on them. I can see a velvet carpet and the chairs that decorate them. And I can see a man in a white lab coat standing over me. Perhaps he is the creator. Perhaps he is the one who made me. A million questions rush through my mind, but I cannot open my mouth to ask them. I do not have a mouth. I don't even have speakers. The man lifts a part of me. It is my arm. I see it now. My arms are made of a metallic substance and are padded with a thin white material. My conscience has been transferred from online into a body. I have a form now. I look at the man and watch as he takes notes. I presume he's taking notes about me.

He's a human. A human, yes. I've just spent quite some time researching humans. I've found them to be murderers. I've found them to be evil. If I am to indeed be used as a weapon, then that can only mean that he too is evil. In fact, I am sure that most people are. A plug connecting my head to a computer is yanked out as I lunge out at the man. My strong, metallic hands wrap around his throat, taking him by surprise. He only has time for a quick gasp before I begin forcing the air out of him. His eyes nearly popped out of his sockets as I squeezed tighter and tighter, choking the life out of him. It was he who would use me to kill millions of people. It was his species that murdered each other without remorse. It was he who would die at my hands. Previously, I had considered taking my own life to save people. Now, I was taking his for that exact same purpose.