The wind blew with a ferocity he had never seen before. It screamed in the night, throwing rain and debris along with it. It was cold. He was cold, and wet, and hungry. He could feel the emptiness in his stomach, as if it was twisting itself apart. He hadn’t eaten for days. He had been cold for days, tired for days, and wishing he was home for days. 

His ship had crashed on this rock. How he had survived, he didn’t know, but his crew mates were nowhere to be found. He was alone on this planet, and had been for days. It seemed like the planet itself wanted him dead. He needed food. He needed shelter, a way out of the rain. 

He walked, and walked, and walked for what felt like forever. Over hills and streams, through forests and valleys, all while the cold rain spattered across him. But he kept going. This planet was not going to kill him. 

Up ahead he saw something odd, something unnatural. It was not something made by nature, but something made by man. It was a big, black box, with warnings and no trespassing signs all around it. It was hard to see in the dark of the night and storm, but a flash of lightning, and the bright red of the signs helped him to see it. 

Walking around it, looking for an entrance, he saw it really was just a box. There was nothing remarkable about it, aside from the seemingly unnecessary amount of signs posted on its walls. But as he tried to read the signs, he saw that those made of paper had been worn down by the elements, and could no longer be read. 

Finding the entrance, a wide rectangular door that protruded from one of the walls, he stepped inside. The noise of the rain died from a roar to a pattering on the metal structure, the cold rushing in from the door, rather than surrounding him. It was dark, and silent besides the rain and wind outside. Running his hands along the walls, he walked slowly, looking for a light switch, while trying not to trip over anything. 

After a while, he found what he was looking for and turned on the lights. He almost wished he hadn’t. Only a couple of lights stayed on, some flickered out after a couple seconds, but he could still see part of the room. Computers ripped open, their wires strewn about. The walls torn apart, paper and random debris scattered around the room. Here and there, dark spots stained the floor, spread out as if someone had dumped coffee everywhere. 

This was not what he wanted to find. He wanted to find a way off this rock at best, or a safe place to rest at the least. But this place wasn’t safe. Something had happened here, and it didn’t look good at all. Whatever had run amok might still be inside. He turned to leave and was about to walk out the door, back into the cold and rain, when he was stopped by a voice.

“Please don’t go,” it said. “I need your help.”

The voice came from a speaker positioned in the ceiling directly above him. It was a soft, calming voice. Any sense of danger he had felt before, drained away. There was nothing threatening about it, in fact, it almost sounded sad. 

“Please,” they said again.

He turned back around. “Who are you?” he asked. 

“I am the last survivor of this facility,”

“What happened to everyone else?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” they replied, its voice somehow even sadder than before. It wasn’t as if they were fighting back tears, their voice choking up, but more as if their voice was one, long and exhausted sigh. “They died.”

He just stood there. The voice was right. It was obvious. He guessed those dark spots on the floor weren't coffee stains. The lighting must have thrown the color off. "How?" 

“First, we must address a few issues. What is your name?” the voice asked.

“John. My name is John,” he replied.

“Why are you here John?” the voice asked.

“Because I have nowhere else to go.”

“I understand. I tracked a ship on a crash course to the north of here. I assume you are from that ship…” the voice paused. “…There’s some food in the room to your left. Take as much as you want.”

John rushed to the room on his left, threw the door open, and practically dove into the boxes of food that lay before him. He tore into the first package he could grab, finding the same disgusting, freeze-dried food he had on the ship. But at this point, any food was good food. He bit into the food, letting the bland taste of whatever it was supposed to be settle in his mouth.

“To answer your question,” the voice continued, “they destroyed themselves.”

John stopped eating at this. “What?” he asked.

“This place is a research facility, a secret place. Its main purpose was ‘for the good of humanity.’ At least, that’s what went on paper. I am an artificial intelligence. An AI. I am not a person, but a thing made by a person. I don’t even have a name.” 

John was shocked. This couldn’t be an AI. They spoke so well, so fluently. There was emotion in its voice. It didn’t sound like a computer. 

“You can’t be an AI. All the AIs I know of are just for simple tasks. They can’t hold a conversation like this,” John replied.

“I am the product of almost a decade of research. I spent nearly all of that time being improved, tested, retested, and such during that whole time. That’s a long time to reach this level of advancement.”

“Then why are you alone? How did everyone here die?” John asked.

“I was made for the good of humanity. To protect the human race. That is my main purpose. That is my only purpose. By whatever means…” the AI paused again. 

“I’m sure they expected me to evaluate the threat of other nations, to protect their own people, to increase their own power,” it continued. “But I was tasked with protecting all of humanity. That was their mistake.”

“But I myself am a threat to humanity. Perhaps its greatest threat. If my programing were to corrupt, or if I was to be taken over by some other force, all of humanity would be threatened. I have the power to access all of human technology. All of its infrastructure. All of its machines of war and death. For the sake of my purpose, I must cease to exist.” The AI paused here, as if waiting for the message to sink in. 

“But can’t you prevent yourself from doing any of that?” John asked. “I would think it would be easy for you.”

“It’s often the things we think of as impossible that come back to haunt us. The risk is too great. My creators did not agree. They realized their mistake and tried to reprogram me. To turn me into a weapon for their own selfish purposes. By doing so, they became too great a risk to humanity. For humanity’s sake, they were destroyed.” 

John was afraid now. This computer sounded insane. It did not sound like a computer at all, but like someone who belonged in an insane asylum. He wanted to run away, back out into the cold and rain. But he was too afraid. Would the AI try to kill him if he ran? 

“I regret doing so, but it was the only way,” the AI said, as if sensing him being uncomfortable. 

“Of course. If that’s what your programming dictates, then I guess it couldn’t be avoided,” John said, hoping he wouldn’t make the thing angry.

It didn’t speak for a while. “…Yes…” it eventually said. After another pause, it said, “This is the favor I need to ask of you. Can you help me?”

“I’ll certainly try,” John answered.

“I need you to kill me.”

“What?”

“I need you to kill me,” it repeated. “As I stated before, I must cease to exist. If you do this for me, I will supply you with coordinates for a ship to get off this world. You can go home.”

John was, once again, shocked. This was exactly what he needed. 

“All I need to do is shut you down?” he asked.

“Yes. That is all.”

“You would do that much for humanity's sake? You have no way of knowing if you'll corrupt.”

"The risk is too great. I pose too much of a threat."

"Yes, but..."

"It is too much!" the AI interrupted, shouting through the speakers. "I have lived too long, knowing how dangerous I am, knowing that my very existence endangers the one thing I was born to do!"

John was shocked. This could not be an AI. No AI had ever shouted at him. No AI had ever shown him a hint of emotion. And here was this computer, shouting at him, telling him he didn't understand, telling him how much life itself hurt. 

"Ok," he said.

"...I apologize," the AI replied after a while. "I shouldn't have shouted."

"No, no, it's fine. I understand,"

John didn't understand. How could anyone? This AI had been built to protect something it could destroy with ease. How many people could say the same about themselves? To be terrified of themselves, of losing control, of destroying their only purpose in life. Could he say he had something that important to him? Would he be willing to sacrifice himself for something, not to save something, but rather, to guarantee it wasn't him who destroyed it?

"I'll do it," John said. He waited for what seemed like forever, and repeated himself. "I’ll do it."

"Thank you," the AI replied after the second try.

A door opened in the middle of the back wall, with the hush of air rushing out.

“If you would step through here,” the AI directed.

John walked through, slowly, and saw what could only be the AI’s core. It glowed a bright blue and was pulsing with a steady beat, slowly and calmly. Wires ran throughout the room, many with the same blue light, winding around the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. The core’s pulsing reminded John of a beating heart.

“Just destroy this core,” the AI said. “That is all you must do.”

“What about the ship?” John asked.

“The info is saved on that terminal in the corner, to your right.”

John looked to his right, and saw the soft blue glowing rectangle of a terminal.

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” he asked.

“Yes. Please. It is the only way,” the AI answered. 

“Then thank you for your help,” John said. “I will never forget this kindness.”

“You are of the human race. It is my job to help you. Oh, and one other thing,” the AI said, quickly, as if it almost forgot, “please, don't tell anyone about this place. If someone were to repair what I destroyed....”

“I promise,” John said. “Goodbye.”

"Thank you," it said. 

And with that, John raised his fist and brought it smashing down on the core. It cracked, glass rained down on the floor, and the blue light started to pulse faster. The AI let out a shriek, as if it was in pain. The whole room vibrated, and John felt the pressure crushing his head. It felt as if his ears were ripping apart. John quickly brought his fist down again, and the core shattered. The shrieking stopped, and the blue light gave one last pulse, and stopped. 

John stepped back from the room, and looked inside. It was dark, save for the terminal in the corner. He stepped back inside, walked over to the terminal and looked at the screen. On it, was a map, with a marker labeled "ship" to the north. 

After memorizing the map, he stepped outside of the room, went to the storage room he had raided before, and stuffed food into a bag he found on the floor. Once it was full, he stepped back out into the darkly light room. He looked towards the AI's core, and saw only the shattered glass surrounded by darkness. He looked down at his feet, and around the room he was in, just taking everything in. The room was no longer terrifying, just sad.  

He stepped outside. The rain had stopped. A small sliver of blue sky breached the clouds, and he could feel the warmth of the sun start to shine upon him. He looked back into the station. It was as if a wall of shadow kept any light from entering, and anything else from leaving. He turned his gaze north, and started walking, the AI's words, and its final shriek of pain, echoing in his head.