He had become redundant. His task had been accomplished. He had contributed to the human existence of a few individuals, that was all; beyond that he had never progressed. Now he was sinking into a bottomless hole and could barely keep himself alive with some abstract breadcrumbs. He had hoped for a one-way ticket to Mars, but sadly he was too old for that.
He was left with little more than to resign or cease. For the time being, he just scrambled with luminous spheres, a marble light show. Photon logistics.
