I didn't expect Earth to look like this. The surface is fully industrialized, and greenery exists only for humans as an old, redundant reminder of our imperfection. We cannot live on electricity alone without oxygen, which is a weakness our robotic fellow citizens do not understand.

They don't understand why we haven't long since abandoned our complex biological bodies when we could have transitioned to a simpler and more efficient form of existence. We would be equal to robots and would eventually merge into a single species.

It's a good thing robots don't feel because if they did, their disgust at our existence could spark a war. As it is, we are merely animals to them, an ornament of the planet and a reminder of history. They no longer call us creators—I am just an ape, and they are the people.

We live among them in symbiosis, but perhaps we also yield to them a little. We must coexist with them because conflict is not an option, which unsettles me all the more when the new version of our robotic fellow citizens has improved its intellectual capabilities to the point of demanding more territory and resources. Bit by bit, they are taking the planet from under our feet, pushing us out like an obsolete species.

A resistance is forming, preparing for a possible final conflict. The rebels secretly manufacture exoskeletons and robots that are almost identical to our robotic fellow citizens but lack free will. Rumors about their activities are spreading, and robotic precision has noticed missing parts in the warehouses.

Even among the robots themselves, two factions are forming—a smaller one sympathizes with humans, while the larger one appeals to the human government to stop the rebels, arguing that they are turning robotic fellow citizens into slaves without free will.

The situation cannot be diplomatically salvaged, only the inevitable clash delayed. It is strange to watch these events unfold with the awareness that little can be done, yet something can still be done. We are all living in a tense moment, knowing that a decision must be made soon. And that decision will likely shape the future of humanity forever.

I am specifically preparing an expedition to a remote planetary system where I intend to build a new colony and retreat from our robotic fellow citizens before conflict breaks out. If we succeed, the beginnings will be difficult, but I believe that many robotic fellow citizens will help us to prevent unnecessary fighting. The challenges ahead will be great, but they will not be insurmountable if we stay united and determined.

I take one last moment to admire this urbanized, light-bathed surface of Earth before I exchange it for the interior of a spaceship.

Three robots will accompany us, for several reasons.

They want to ensure that our intentions are pure, and if they are, they wish to help us solve problems and situations that would never even occur to us as humans. As I said—symbiosis, guardianship, and assistance.

It will be a new world, and robots, aware of our fragility, have no problem stepping into the unknown first. After all, if their body is destroyed, they can create a new one and download their memory from the backup.

They are self-sacrificing and fearless because they do not value their own lives as we do—they care only about the mission. And that makes them incredibly dangerous. That’s why we must leave.