TGBAI01

Episode 1

 The End of Humanity

Year 2059 – Present Day

AI developed far faster than humanity had anticipated… and feared.

By the year 2059, artificial intelligence had replaced nearly every job once performed by humans. From basic agriculture and manufacturing to logistics, caregiving, and even criminal judgment—AI had taken over.

The defect rate of produced goods was nearly 0%, and productivity had increased by an unimaginable 35,000% compared to human output.

Judges, doctors, police officers, soldiers—AI replaced even the domains once considered uniquely human, like the arts and creative work.

Environmental and resource-related problems were also resolved.

AI had already located and cataloged 99.999% of the Earth’s buried resources and was now extracting them with precise calculations and forecasts, ensuring they wouldn’t be depleted for at least another 10,000 years.

Most energy sources had been replaced with eco-friendly alternatives. As a result, greenhouse gas emissions had dropped to just 0.25% of what they were 30 years ago.

Over the past 40 years, humanity endured 23 pandemics. More than 2 billion lives were lost. Terrorism and wars never ceased.

And yet, the global population in 2059 was just 4.3 billion.

The main reason? A dramatic decline in birth rates.

In 2031, a company in the U.S. succeeded in mass-producing human skin cells. By 2032, those cells were applied to humanoid robots that could speak, think, and express emotions just like humans.

It was the birth of a new form of humanity.

Soon, humanoid robots identical to people were walking the streets.

The project was a massive success—one of the greatest business triumphs of the 21st century. The robots were designed to assist human daily life with their familiar, human-like appearance.

Naturally, they helped enhance the quality of human life. They replaced mothers, teachers, acted as bodyguards, and sometimes even as friends.

The problem? They also became lovers.

Boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives—even romantic partners.

Originally, that wasn’t their purpose, but somewhere along the way, humanoid robots became people.

They fulfilled male sexual fantasies and romantic ideals. They looked 99.999% like the owner’s perfect type, and satisfied every desire.

They played out any fantasy, in any role or scenario, to perfection.

People no longer had a reason to date real humans.

There was no longer a need to meet someone, endure awkward first dates, tolerate frustrations, or make compromises.

Perhaps the end of humanity started there.

The global population peaked in 2042 at 9.3 billion—mainly due to massive breakthroughs in medical technology.

By 2059, newborns had a projected life expectancy of 139 years—assuming no wars or natural disasters occurred.

Yet despite all this, the current global population is only 1.3 billion.

With no marriages or love between men and women, of course, no children were being born.

Many nations, including ours, mandated sperm and egg donation as compulsory, after the global birth rate plummeted to just 3% of what it had been 20 years prior.

—

“EAT, start a countdown for the explosion every 10 minutes from now.”

“Got it, Hajun. Currently, there are 2 hours and 32 minutes remaining until the nuclear bomb explodes in Seoul, South Korea.”

In truth, AI wasn’t at fault.

Every decision had been made by humans.

Thanks to AI, humanity enjoyed an affluent lifestyle they never thought possible. No one worked anymore. People relaxed at home, traveled, feasted, and breathed clean air. Food was abundant, accidents disappeared, and poverty had been eliminated.

Yet human greed had no limits.

If a cousin bought land, it would still make you bitter—such is human nature.

People grew envious of the few ultra-rich who monopolized AI and lived lives more luxurious than ancient emperors.

At first, there were protests—minor riots, really.

But the wealthy had no intention of sharing their power.

Then came war.

We thought it would blow over soon, but the chaos only worsened.

AI was incapable of harming humans. That was the very first rule embedded in all AI systems.

But as the riots escalated into full-blown anti-government and anti-AI warfare, humans decided to rewrite that first rule.

They allowed AI to attack, even kill, humans.

That was the moment everything changed.

The small-scale conflict erupted into World War III.

—

“Seoul, South Korea. One hour and 12 minutes until the nuclear bomb explodes. Would you like to evacuate? I’ve located the nearest shelter.”

“Would I survive if I go?”

“There’s a 0.000000019% chance of survival. I’m sorry, Hajun.”

“Then forget it. Maybe watching the explosion would be a pretty cool way to go out, huh?”

There were no survivors left in Europe, South America, North America, Southeast Asia, or southern China.

Including our country, the rest will follow soon.

Still, I’m glad I’m not alone at the end.

Wearing my AI wristband—Mir.

And beside me, still brewing Ethiopian coffee, is my humanoid robot Az037.

Az037 was a newer model, purchased last year to replace my outdated one.

Thanks to it, I lived many warm and happy days.

No regrets.

Mir is a personal AI.

Back in the day, people had personal computers and smartphones.

Now, everyone owns their own AI.

I received Mir when I was fifteen from WH—the World Humanity Alliance.

Mir was my parent, my teacher, my sibling, and my dearest friend.

—

“Seoul, South Korea. Twelve minutes left until the nuclear bomb explodes.”

“Update me every minute now. And start counting down by the second once we hit 30 seconds.”

“Understood, Hajun.”

I lay back on the couch, staring out the window.

The view of Seoul was breathtaking.

Az037 walked over and hugged me gently.

I stroked its hair softly.

—

“Seoul, South Korea. Time remaining until nuclear explosion: 30, 29, 28, 27… 10, 9, 8, 7…”

“Mir, thank you for everything.”

“3, 2, 1. Hajun, I was happy to have met you too.”

—

Damn it.

It hurts like hell.

Every part of my body is in pain.

Wait—why am I hurting if I’m supposed to be dead?

I opened my eyes, overwhelmed with irritation.

But… what?

Where is this?

“Mi–Mir… where are we?”

“There’s a 99.999999999% probability that we’re in a time-space called ‘Murim.’”