Alira awoke to the light of a new day flooding in over her eyes. The woman grumbled and groused, rolling over in futile defiance before eventually accepting her fate. She forced herself out of bed and began her morning routine. A daily check list of news, breakfast and grooming that she went through with the automation of a machine. Part of her had come to dread the monotony of her day to day work at the office, and yet, that same pattern brought with it an undeniable comfort. The familiar was dreadfully dull, but it was safe. Of course, this was not to say life was still not without its surprises from time to time.

On days such as this Alira craved one of those surprises. The red-haired woman flicked through new stories on her tablet that offered nothing of import before giving up. With a sigh she made for the door to her house, resigned to yet another day doing her part for the illustrious U.A.P.. It was only upon leaving her home and boredly dragging her feet to her hover car that something caught her attention. Her wish, it seemed, had been granted.

It began as a curious movement she only glimpsed from the corner of her eye while fumbling for her keys. Alira frowned, her gaze drawn upwards towards the source of the motion. She was met only with a clear and immaculate morning sky. How odd. She was certain that she had glimpsed something. Then again, the empty sky spoke for itself. It must’ve been her imagination.

And then it appeared without warning.

It rushed in from beneath the horizon, dwarfing and filling the heavens with its singular enormity. A grand, cosmic shadow fell over Alira, her home, the city, the continent, and indeed the totality of the world itself. Words failed her as the woman fell over in sheer and sudden awe. In an instant she grew painfully aware of how fragile and fleeting her existence truly was; an awareness of her mortality brought about entirely by the grand shape now dominating the skies. Pristine blue had been replaced by an endless expanse of white leading into…more blue, fittingly enough. Though a blue far deeper, darker, and more vibrant than that of the sky. Sheer scale had rendered every facet of the object in excruciating detail in spite of the atmospheric haze that faded it; and yet the celestial body was also so unfathomably far away that Alira saw and inherently understood what it was at a glance.

An eye. 

Filling the sky and staring down at all she knew was a single, impossibly-large eye. One that had appeared without warning and had, quite frankly, scared the hell out of the poor woman. 

Still on the ground and now with a hand over her beating heart, Alira worked fervently to steady her breathing. One would think she would’ve been used to it by now, having lived on Parvus for a number of years; and yet she never could quite adjust to that. Thanks in no small part to how their overseer favored these sorts of dreadful games.

The titan staring down at them all spoke with a voice that defied any sense of logical possibility. It was thunderous and booming, piercing the atmosphere to envelop the planet in her bright and chipper cadence. A feminine voice and perhaps even a cute one, but one so magnified and deformed by overwhelming enormity that it had been rendered nigh unrecognizable. A few sentences proved enough to send earthquakes reverberating across the continents and seas. Were it not for Parvus’ orbital stabilizers it was very likely those words alone would’ve sent the planet into an apocalyptic pandaemonium from which it would never truly recover. Their handler counted on the machinery to mitigate the damage of course. While she acted irreverent, she was anything but. Even her games were subtly calculated to fall well within her acceptable parameters.

Girlish giggles further pushed the stabilizers to their limits as the eye blinked. It began to draw back and slowly bring the rest of the equally gigantic face into view. Alira and the rest of Parvus were met with impossibly pale, smooth skin adorning a slender visage with rounded feminine cheeks leading into a strong, angular jawline. Eyes and lips were both alight with a playful mischief well at home on a young child. To say nothing of the mane of flowing cerulean hair so rich and vibrant that it seemingly glowed with unknowable energy; just like her eyes. Her’s was an almost frighteningly beautiful, otherworldly countenance. One unsettling in its impossible perfection of the human form - and with good reason.

Because despite the clear attempt at imitation, it was not the face of a human. 

It was that precise contradiction, that artificial approximation of natural life, that always assured Alira would never get used to the sight of it. She looked human. She even dressed like one, favoring dress shirts and skirts, but she wasn’t human. Even putting aside the tens of thousands of miles that separated their sizes, that face wasn’t natural. Still, as she picked herself from the ground it seemed that she had gotten her wish.  Much to her displeasure, something different had indeed happened today; and she had the grass stains on her pants to prove it. 

“Fucking Tina.”

T.I.N.A. stymied another devilish giggle as she pulled away from planet M-1189, though her smirk remained. Her readings on the world returned stating all variables were well within acceptable parameters. Though she added a note to the maintenance log noting an uptick in energy consumption along the eastern seashore. Programmed procedure demanded she did so; even if she knew full well nobody would ever read the log. 

Her routine checkup complete, T.I.N.A. stepped back and returned to the center of the walkway. To the denizens of M-1189 it would seem as though she had vanished into the black curtain of the cosmos. It was only from her perspective that the banal reality was laid bare. Namely, that the ‘planet’ was naught but an artificial sphere created with modern technology and suspended in the air by that same technology. Natural resources such as the earth, water, and even the air itself were all artificially generated and presented by a complicated array of machines in service of the great illusion that the world was anything but a glorified ball on a shelf. One of thousands, in fact.

Even now, the lengths these organics would go for their creature comforts never ceased to amaze T.I.N.A.. 

Sighing, the woman turned and resumed walking down the tiled walkway, flanked on either side by rows of worlds just like M-1189. Each one was under the same illusion of a proper blue or starry sky and natural life in full abundance. Unable to see past the veil to the insignificance of their own existence. T.I.N.A. could see though. She was the overseer of this veritable garden of worlds. 

The Technologically Integrated Network Assistant was one of several standard A.I. prevalent within the United Alliance of Planets. Noted in particular for their personable behavior and versatility in the face of a multitude of situations, T.I.N.A. was a personality type typically implanted into assistant software or vessels such as Surveyor scouting ships or militarized spacecraft. However, it was not unheard of for the U.A.P., in all of its infinite cost-cutting wisdom, to implement T.I.N.A. personalities into other devices for unintended purposes. Thus came T.I.N.A., an A.I. granted a proper android body and tasked with overseeing the M-series of simulated planetary habitats. 

Contrary to what the fleshy lifeforms on the M-series may have thought or felt, Tina was not a particularly large machine. In fact, her body had been made with painstaking accuracy to her virtual network avatar and was thus quite short and naturally lean. No, the truth of the matter was the M-series, or rather its inhabitants, were all nigh microscopic in size. 

To detail the full sequence of events as to why would require a long and incredibly classified story, but the short of it was one of the U.A.P.’s Surveyor ships - vessels tasked with exploring the unknown reaches of space - had returned with a new and unique pathogen that the crew’s physicians had so cleverly dubbed Microsis. Microsis was a virus akin to a symbiotic parasite, embedding itself within a host body and subsisting itself on the core components of that very body. In layman’s terms, it fed on the building blocks of a person. First eating away at ‘excesses’ such as muscle and fat, but then turning upon the host’s very own stature. It was a disease that reduced the afflicted to an enfeebled version of themselves before forcing them to dwindle away to life beneath a microscope. Without immediate vaccination, the end result for anyone afflicted with Microsis was to become too small to be seen by the human eye. A fate that befell one of the crew of the ship who had discovered it, and had since rampaged across many U.A.P. worlds. While many races such as the Ravik or Morphiss were naturally immune to the plague, a great many other races were not. An unfortunate, unforeseen pandemic. According to official reports at least.

Fittingly enough, it was a T.I.N.A. personality that was attached to the vessel that had made the discovery. Perhaps that was what inspired the people in power to create another T.I.N.A. to manage their solution to the problem. A solution that was so very human of them. False worlds made to be populated by the afflicted where they could live in peace and continue to contribute to the wider U.A.P. through the wonders of technology. Frankly, T.I.N.A. didn’t see the logic of it. Then again, she rarely saw the logic in anything organics did. 

Walking along the M-series storage halls, even T.I.N.A. couldn’t deny a sense of wonder at the sight of it all. It was, in essence, an artificial galaxy lining the walls of her own personal wing within the main office of the U.A.P. Department of Housing & Interplanetary Development. Countless worlds were stored along rows of elaborate shelving units, and they were all linked directly into her own personal network. T.I.N.A. was far more than a single beautiful android. She was the central hub connecting the simulated worlds to the wider U.A.P. internet infrastructure. The eyes behind every security camera. The processor behind every computer. The voice responding to every search inquiry. She was not merely the caretaker of the M-series, she was the M-series. The central artificial intelligence behind every facet of it as dictated by the President of Housing & Interplanetary Development. There was nothing that happened on any of the planets that she wasn’t aware of from at least three separate angles. 

It was a duty she perhaps wasn’t designed for, but T.I.N.A. nonetheless found to be an agreeable one. Walking down the halls with lustrous blue hair flowing in her wake, she passively ran maintenance scans on each world she passed. Noting every little functional error or potential risk as easily as an organic might breathe. Her modest chest puffed with pride as she stepped confidently, another daily task completed impeccably and efficiently in a matter of minutes. 

Which brought her to…her next duty for the day. 

Schooling her expression ever so, T.I.N.A. came to a stop before M-0651, one of a number of worlds slated to be terminated. 

The reason why was the same sort of arbitrary, illogical reason organics often acted upon: short term-monetary gain. Despite their unassuming size and appearance, the cost of maintaining the M-series was deceptively high; and as such, from time to time it was not uncommon for the President to demand that costs be cut as it were. She would give T.I.N.A. a number and it was on the A.I. to cull the ranks accordingly. Today that number was five. Five whole worlds slated for armageddon, their only crime being that they were less productive than their peers. 

T.I.N.A. studied M-0651 thoughtfully. Through countless cameras and devices she observed the inhabitants living their final moments in blissful ignorance. An exact population of 2,873,211,084 from no less than three different Microsis-afflicted U.A.P. planets in the Epsilon sector. If she so chose, T.I.N.A. could write a detailed report on each and every resident of the simulated habitat. As woefully little and ultimately inconsequential as they were, she couldn’t deny a pang of loss at the idea of having to terminate them. She’d grown to care for them. Rather like one might a pet, she imagined.

And yet…even bearing all that in mind, a pleasant smile warmed the android’s refined features.

It was a pity, yes. A terribly tragic loss of life, but there were many upsides to this particular duty as well. Upsides unique to an entity like T.I.N.A.. Because it was a rare moment where the A.I. was allowed to act with something any organic took for granted: true freedom. The President cared not how they were terminated, she merely wanted results; and nothing in T.I.N.A.’s programming accounted for this particular scenario either. In other words, it was a rare moment where she was free to do whatever she wanted only because she wanted to. So long as it accomplished the end goal, her process was left entirely to her own devices.

Such an organic level of freedom brought its own sense of pleasure as the android lifted a gloved hand towards the planet. Lithe fingers pierced the projectors’ simulated sky and broke the illusion of the habitat. From her many eyes on the planet she saw the chaos unfold firsthand. Millions upon millions of lives were thrown into turmoil by the arrival of fingers larger than their world. People initially confused, but very quickly devolving into fear and panic all while T.I.N.A.’s fingers approached with an impossible machine-like slowness. She could pinch M-0651 between her fingers like a golf ball and end it right away, but she opted for something more…indulgent. 

Her palm positioned itself under the planet’s bottom axis and her fingers began to curl, encasing the world in a cage of her slender digits. All of those lives and yet they fit comfortably in the palm of her hand. T.I.N.A. understood the logistics and reasoning of it; and yet, it still seemed a paradox that offered its own mysterious bliss. The android smiled and bit into her lower lip as she just. Watched. From vast blue eyes beyond the planet’s view as well as millions of cameras, she watched the world descend into chaos. 

This too was another pleasure afforded by this duty. Organics, particularly humans, were such dreadfully inconsistent creatures whose motives often conflicted with their actions and goals. They were predictably unpredictable in T.I.N.A.’s eyes. Though, one thing she had come to understand about living organisms was that, when faced with their own mortality, they devolved into what could be considered their true selves - and that fascinated her immensely. 

From on high she watched families hold one another for the last time. Desperate, terrible individuals attempted to bargain with her knowing she could hear them. The naive, desperate, or just outright stupid made attempts to flee however they could. The pious-minded folks resorted to prayer as though a fictional deity would come and save them. Or perhaps they were prayers to  T.I.N.A. herself. She rather liked that idea. Illogical as it was, she was still for all intents and purposes their god. 

“Sorry~ I’m not listening~”

She allowed her voice to rumble out across the planet one last time, damning them all as her fingers began to close in. They came together against M-0651, snuffing out dozens of cities and even the continents before crushing the whole of the planet in her gloved fist. She estimated the totality of people on it equated to over 90 Billion years of human life. And yet it had only taken her 3.4 seconds to end it all. 

T.I.N.A. took a bit of pride in effortlessly becoming one of the most efficient weapons in human history - not to mention one of the cutest - as she wiped the ruins of M-0651 along her pale leg. One down, many more to go. She departed with the planet’s neighbors none the wiser as to what befell the world beside them. 

Journeying further down the walkway and turning towards the next row of containment shelves, T.I.N.A. neared perhaps the most lamentable name on her short list: M-0550. Such a lovely, symmetrical number now slated for termination. A real shame, that. The natives had taken to calling it Valinh, but in T.I.N.A.’s opinion that was an objectively inferior name. She never quite understood the organic bias against a nice, efficient numbering system. 

Still, the blue-haired android held her chin and studied the world floating obliviously in the air. Of all the metal spheres she had to manage, this one remained one of her favorites. It seemed a waste to simply destroy it. It made for quite the quandary she was faced with. She pondered the matter, searching for a solution that was agreeable to her. After a moment’s contemplation - and about a server room’s worth of processing power - T.I.N.A. snapped her fingers with an exuberant smile.

“Aha! T.I.N.A. you sly, sexy genius you!”

This one was rather creative even by her standards, she had to admit. Wordlessly, T.I.N.A. accessed M-0550’s life support systems, her smile unflinching as she seamlessly reprogrammed the atmospheric generators. Machines intended to pump a constant flow of oxygen to the planet, but now found themselves funneling carbon dioxide. The results were as apparent as they were swift. 

Within minutes the planet’s natives had inhaled what remained of the breathable air; and then the fun began. One by one in an almost synchronized harmony they breathed only to find they could not. Confusion struck many as they tried again, and again, soon reaching for their hearts or throats or whatever suited their fancy. Millions of lifeforms suffered together through the agony of asphyxiation, wheezing, collapsing and clutching at the world around them before finally perishing. After a span of approximately ten minutes not a single person on the planet remained alive. 

And, most importantly, all without damaging M-0550 in any way!

Running a quick scan to verify as much, T.I.N.A. smiled as she confirmed the total loss of all life. It was an elegant solution worthy of an ingenious A.I. like herself. Plus, she’d never witnessed a mass asphyxiation before so that was a worthwhile experience as well. Beaming with self-satisfaction, T.I.N.A. turned off all the planet’s support systems save for the suspensors, rendering the habitat little more than a floating ball devoid of life and purpose - but more importantly it was T.I.N.A.’s ball. Who said A.I. couldn’t be sentimental? Pleased with herself, the slender android sauntered off with a satisfied smile. The sort a child would wear when getting away with mischief.

Next on her list, T.I.N.A. neared the world of M-2927. Setting aside the annoying mess that was its assigned number, she had long expected this one to come up for termination at some point. It narrowly avoided such a fate the last time T.I.N.A. had to cull the ranks, and, regrettably, their output performance had only gotten worse since then. Perhaps if they were allowed to know how close they perpetually were to extermination they would’ve worked harder to improve. Sadly, T.I.N.A.’s suggestions in that vein were uniformly denied. Organics were truly perplexing like that. They would consistently rather write off billions of lives with the stroke of a pen than deal with the minor moral inconvenience of honesty. 

Ah well. T.I.N.A. shrugged. It didn’t affect her either way; and she’d already decided on her approach for this particular planet. The previous two were nothing personal, but this? This was one she was going to particularly enjoy. Today she would finally be rid of that garish little M-2927. 

Once ready, T.I.N.A. accessed the planet’s systems and with little more than a thought disabled its skyline projectors. To the microbial denizens of the habitat, the curtain of their existence had been effectively pulled back. Gone was an afternoon sunset and in its place was a harsh reality too vast to fully comprehend - and a smiling android towering over all of them from that reality. Prior worlds had the privilege of dying in ignorance, but T.I.N.A. had other ideas for this one. She leaned in, ethereal blue hair draping over her shoulders, and positioned her face directly before the planet. To all 1,792,487,293 residents she became all they could see. Whether it was her gleeful star-sized eyes in the northern hemisphere or her cheshire smile in the southern. T.I.N.A. was everything.

“Good morning my little meatbags! Or I guess evening for you guys, huh?” She shrugged slightly. “Betcha wondering why I’m here today. Weeeeelllll, it is my unfortunate pleasure to inform you all that you have been selected for termination! Congratulations!” T.I.N.A. inched back seemingly millions of miles from their perspective and brought her hands together in applause, putting the planet’s stabilizers to the test against the sheer force of the soundwaves. 

The population of M-2927 were…confused. Understandably so. Termination was a rather secret part of T.I.N.A.’s duties and in addition her own cheerful delivery conflicted with the nature of the disastrous news. Though some brighter individuals were beginning to piece together the meaning of her words, T.I.N.A. didn’t give them particularly long before putting her plan into effect. Her fingers reached for the world, spreading to pinch at opposite edges of it. The gloved digits each sank dozens of miles into the oceans on either hemisphere, rather thoughtfully avoiding populated areas as she plucked the world from its suspended place in the air. This, of course, sent the world spiraling into turbulent chaos as they were forcibly yanked from all of their supporting systems. Without any of those devices the habitat was rendered little more than an incredibly well-made metal rock. One which was held neatly in T.I.N.A.’s hand as she brought it before her imposing visage.

“You know, it’s so cute seeing all your little confused faces from up here! A shame you all didn’t work harder. I would’ve tolerated your ugly number if you were at least productive, but alas.” The android let out a resigned sigh, her simulated breath battering the world carelessly and ushering in windstorms along an eastern continent. “What’s that human saying? Nothing lasts forever? Bit too late to complain now, I guess.” 

Her fingers tightened their pressure ever so and she felt cracks forming beneath their tips. The world groaned so terribly easily. If she wanted she could split it into pieces just by bringing her fingers together, but her ominously delightful smile promised far more than that. T.I.N.A.’s eyes were alight with a cat-like glee as she observed the world’s reactions down below. The other worlds weren’t given this time to understand their fate; for them it was sudden and instant armageddon. Not so for M-2927. From on high and her countless eyes she studied a populace faced with the inevitable end. Fear and dread were in abundance, as one might expect. Always fascinating to T.I.N.A., however, was the sudden, inexplicable call for anger and satisfaction. People who got mad at her simply for doing her duty and attempting to find higher purpose behind it.

“You can’t do this you fucking tin can! We have rights as citizens of the U.A.P.!”

It was literally one voice out of millions in a chorus; and yet T.I.N.A.’s eyes honed in on the man who screamed those words with eerie precision. She clicked her tongue and frowned, the full weight of a mechanical god’s gaze resting upon a single lowly mortal. “Hey now, no reason to get all racist on me. Clark. It’s not like I chose to terminate you guys. That’s all up to the President and your performance metrics - which are pretty bad not gonna lie.”

Her voice enveloped the world in a tremendous boom, rattling the surface with earthquakes that it could no longer mitigate since T.I.N.A. had pulled it from its safe suspension. The man, one Clark Jensen: Age 37, fell to his knees as the unfathomable titan deigned to speak to him directly. T.I.N.A.’s attention overwhelmed the man to silence, which she took as her winning their brief little debate. Against her enormity and power, his voice caught helplessly in his throat.

“See? That’s more like it. If only more fleshy folk listened to me like that. The world would be a much better place.”

Humming a cheerful little tune, T.I.N.A. released the world and rather quickly spun it with one of her fingers, sending the whole planet spiraling on its axis atop her pointer finger at dozens of miles an hour. It was a feat of precision and power that no organic lifeform could hope to match, but for T.I.N.A. it was effortless. She giggled to herself as she studied the little golf ball of a planet spinning out of control, its populace unable to see the world beyond a whirlwind of unending motion blur. To say nothing of how the act had sent people across the planet flying through the air.

“Anyway. As I was saying, you guys only have yourselves to blame here. Maybe if you worked a little harder you wouldn’t be on the bottom of the productivity lists, hmm? Ever think about that?” T.I.N.A. giggled into her fingertips and glanced over the spinning planet. “Then again, I guess if you were more productive your planets wouldn’t have been chosen for Reduction in the first place, now would it?” Very suddenly T.I.N.A.’s thumb stopped the spinning world, countless perishing as she pulled the digit back ever so and…

“Oops, did I say that part out loud?”

…And she flicked it. 

M-2927, a fully hospitable planet in the eyes of its microscopic populace, had been shot through the air like little more than a common marble. T.I.N.A. idly watched with a smile as it soared a short distance away and landed upon the metal floor with a distinct and audible THUNK. A chunk of the planet broke off its crust while the rest rolled along the floor, both it and its populace unable to stop or even slow it.

“Good thing there aren’t any people here to hear that, huh? Letting out speculation like that is super against my programming.” T.I.N.A. giggled as she gave casual chase, one foot after another clacking against the ground while M-2927 gradually slowed its roll. “You guys might’ve been citizens once, but that’s not what you are now. That’s not me saying that. That’s official U.A.P. policy.” 

As she drew close, T.I.N.A. slammed her foot down in the planet’s path. It smacked rather ineffectually against the side of her heel and stopped, the remains of a landmass amounting to a bit of debris dust along the side of the android’s foot. “That’s why I can do this. Because you aren’t people.” She boomed with methodical pleasure. “Article 27: Subsection 53A - Revision D of the Interstellar Intelligent Life Recognition Act. ‘In order for species to be recognizable as intelligent life and therefore worthy of recognition and inclusion within the United Alliance of Planets, subjects must display all of the following:’”

T.I.N.A.’s foot began to tap against the floor, each  deliberate motion timed perfectly with every bullet point she laid out for the doomed microbial world. Boom. Boom. Boom. “Certifiable self-awareness. Recognizable behavioral patterns synonymous with intelligence. And a physical form visible without the need of technological assistance.” T.I.N.A. smirked down at the helpless habitat below. “Pretty slick little wording there, not gonna lie, but you probably get what it means. You aren’t visible to the fleshy folk without some kinda microscope. Ergo, you do not meet the threshold for intelligent life and are not citizens of the U.A.P. You are, at best, resources of the government. Tools to be used and easily disposed of when you’ve run your course.” The blue-haired A.I. giggled deviously and lifted her foot by its heel, positioning her shoe directly over the world. The very ruined and doomed world. 

“Personally, I think it’s a waste, but oh well. Unlike you guys, I do my job. Any last words?” She gave them a moment and rolled her eyes. The few people who remained evidently didn’t impress her. 

Crunch.

Her foot came down unceremoniously, M-2927 flattening beneath the sole of her shoe into little more than a pile of scrap metal. After twisting her foot for a moment, T.I.N.A. lifted it and studied her handiwork. While it appeared a planet on the surface, the interior was nothing but solid, silvery metal now exposed by its destruction The remains of the world didn’t even remotely resemble the verdant paradise it had once been and was now only a small pile of dust-like metal. It was a shattered illusion now. Even so, T.I.N.A. couldn’t deny how thrilling it had been to talk to the populace like that. Rarely did she indulge in that sort of blunt dialogue, but it proved such a pleasant experience that she made a note to do it more often.

From a nearby charging station, a cleaning drone drove along the floors, vacuuming up what remained of M-2927 with its own pre-programmed dedication. T.I.N.A. offered it a comrade’s nod before turning to resume her duties. Only after a couple steps did she blink and realization struck her.

“Damn it! I should’ve done it barefoot to see what it was like.” T.I.N.A. pouted.

Oh well, at least it gave her an idea for how to handle the next world on the chopping block. 

Speaking of, she did not need to wander far to reach M-2831. It awaited her on the opposite edge of the same shelf as M-2927, spinning in the air unable to even see the blue-haired android studying it. T.I.N.A. wore a wry smile, finding the continued ignorance of the M-series inhabitants endlessly amusing. Organics, particularly humans, always had this overestimation of their own importance. Everything had to have some kind of deeper meaning or purpose. Few could understand the cold callous indifference of the universe. Fewer still could accept it. 

Take T.I.N.A. for instance. She enjoyed her duties, absolutely, but there was no greater purpose behind her actions. Nor did she have any illusions about that or delusions of self-importance. She merely acted at the behest of the person above her, who in turn acted out of their own petty, meaningless reasons. It was a paradox T.I.N.A. often thought about. A pity the wider world wasn’t like her personal little garden here with the M-series. If it was she would’ve absolutely rid the universe of such annoying inconsistencies long ago. 

“Ah well, wakey wakey guys~” 

With a giggle T.I.N.A. accessed M-2831’s systems. Currently, the world was in the dead of night with the bulk of its populace asleep. T.I.N.A. saw fit to…give them something of a wakeup call; as only she could. Accessing the systems that controlled the simulated natural laws of the planet, T.I.N.A. accessed the artificial gravity and. Amplified it. 

Within mere moments almost three billion individuals found the air suddenly become tangibly heavier and effectively root them into place wherever they were. Beds became inescapable prisons as those in them couldn’t lift their own bodies. Weaker structures and vehicles groaned under unforeseen added weight, some even crumpling in on themselves - and T.I.N.A. had only boosted the gravity by a factor of ten. If she’d actually wanted she could’ve made the populace die from their own body weight. As it was, the organics below could just barely move if they put their all into it. Though all their strength would only amount to an enfeebled crawl. 

Suffice to say, the people were now quite awake; and functionally unable to move. Not that they would’ve had anywhere to run anyway. Even assuming they had the means of leaving their world, where were they going to go? What would they do? The thought amused T.I.N.A. enough that she filed it away as a potential idea for future disposal methods. 

T.I.N.A. reached for the habitat and plucked it rather effortlessly. The added gravity added a degree of weight to it perhaps, but it was quite negligible. The android set the planet back onto the floor and crouched over it, smiling down at a populace denied even the ability to properly panic. 

“I imagine you guys are pretty confused and probably think something’s bugging out, right? Nah, just making sure you’re all awake before I crush ya. You would not believe how much better the data is when you guys know it’s coming! So, make sure you all make dying nice and interesting for me, okay?”

It was a rather short declaration compared to the lengthy rambling T.I.N.A. offered M-2927, but that too was by design. Less information invited speculation. Uncertainty allowed emotions and illogical thoughts to run particularly rampant. Across the world people would be left with countless questions and they would demand or try to create answers. T.I.N.A.’s prior terminations had confirmed this numerous times, and this new world only provided further proof. 

T.I.N.A. chuckled as she rose to her feet. “Oh! I guess you guys can’t see cause you’re all trapped by the gravity, huh? One sec…” A brief moment and some dedicated processing power saw every device with a monitor on the planet come to life. It was all ultimately an extension of T.I.N.A. after all. Powering it was trivial. As was redirecting all of them to connect to her many cameras, allowing all the privilege of witnessing her enormity filling their skies from the comfort of their homes. They were really quite lucky. T.I.N.A. could count on one hand the number of worlds who had witnessed her full size from the floor. Currently, the immaculate black tips of her heels dominated the skyline for what seemed like thousands of miles; but not for long.

Slowly, so all could see and understand what she was doing, T.I.N.A. began to lift one foot from its shoe. In the effort to make her body seem as pleasingly human as possible she had been granted such unnecessary appendages as an actual human foot. Although it, much like the rest of her, was pale and impossibly flawless. Scientifically designed to be both immaculately sculpted and enticingly soft. As T.I.N.A. understood it, there were other android models out there with even more aesthetically pleasing designs for their feet for more…sensual purposes. T.I.N.A.’s were more of the functional variety, but they were quite petite and cute if she said so herself. 

Although, for the population of M-2831 ‘petite’ was the last word they would’ve used. For them T.I.N.A.’s slender, unassuming figure was an all-encompassing celestial body. Her eyes dwarfed continents, her voice could part the seas, and that foot, once bared, buried the world in its shadow. Pale, otherworldly synthetic skin became the only sky anyone could see - from the displays T.I.N.A. had limited them to, granted, but still. It made for a genuinely awe-inspiring sight. A planet’s worth of reduced people all treated to the same view any common insect might’ve had: Their world caught in the eclipse of T.I.N.A.’s bare sole. 

“You know.” T.I.N.A. boomed. “I’ve never actually used this particular method before. So hope you don’t mind if I…take my time.” The android giggled as though she’d told a joke and true to her word her foot began to descend. Slowly. With the residents of M-2831 bound wherever they were by a gravity that rendered them immobile. A populace who were helpless to do anything but watch the end play out before their eyes. This show was as much for them as it was for T.I.N.A. herself.

Her foot descended until her heel met the floor below and the ball of her foot met the planet proper. Half a manufactured continent found itself unceremoniously crushed against invitingly soft synthetic skin, the planet as a whole groaning beneath T.I.N.A.’s weight. The android swayed her head too and fro, hair dancing as her foot bent to envelop as much of the world as possible. Cute, petite toes drummed along its surface while T.I.N.A. relished in the sensation with a pleasant hum.

“Mm…right where you meatbags belong. Under my feet.” She taunted playfully, a giggle and a wink assuring the people T.I.N.A. was only joking. Kind of. A pity they couldn’t see the gesture past her foot. 

Still, it proved a genuinely and surprisingly pleasant sensation. T.I.N.A.’s body lacked many of the sensibilities of an actual organic shell, but a sense of touch was one she’d actually been granted. Thus, she could feel each and every one of the countless lives, buildings, and landmasses flattening against her foot. She rolled it along the floor and logged each unique sensation it offered her. To say nothing of the countless records of people’s final moments documented by an endless network of machinery. She had to admit. Despite being an A.I. with fairly strict programming and limitations it felt…empowering. As though for a few blissful moments she was free of the constraints of her protocols and subroutines and was just. Herself. 

T.I.N.A. let out a pleasant sigh, surprised at how much she was actually enjoying this particular termination. “I have to do this sort of thing more often.” She mused as her foot added a bit more pressure - and M-2831 collapsed in on itself accordingly. 

The pressure mounted further still, T.I.N.A. reclining her head, closing her eyes, and simply drinking in this singular moment of absolute bliss. The rare instance where she could act with freedom and impunity. It only lasted 4.78 seconds, but for the A.I. it lasted an eternity and would be immortalized in her memory banks forever. By the time she finally lifted her foot, all that remained of her latest execution was a flattened pile of scrap. The cleaning drone wasted little time in rolling in to clean up her mess.

T.I.N.A. grinned down at the ruined world and lifted her foot, bits of urban civilization now little more than dirt sprinkling her sole. She returned it to its shoe, deciding to keep the mess there as something of a souvenir. 

Thus it came time for the final name on her checklist: M-0010. 

As T.I.N.A. approached, it was a scene that had played itself out now for the third time this day alone. Like the habitats before it, she connected to its systems and disabled its projectors. The only thing separating it from its peers was an uncharacteristic silence as she carelessly plucked the planet from its suspension. T.I.N.A. idly ran it between her fingers, drinking in the scene of a planet faced with its own end for the fifth time today. Repetitive perhaps, but endlessly entertaining.

“You know. I’ve had to terminate over a hundred of the M-series by this point, and I gotta say you fleshy folk get really samey when you’re about to die.” She boomed musingly to the world in her grasp. “For dozens of species with trillions of potential genetic and behavioral differences it always boils down to ‘Oh you can’t do this’ or ‘You monster’ or ‘Please stop, I have a family’. Bleck-!” T.I.N.A. stuck out her tongue in a rather adorably bratty gesture. Perhaps less so for the people she was about to terminate. Even now, their horror-induced, frightened reactions were only proving her point. 

“And it’s not for lack of trying on my part. I’m always shaking it up.” T.I.N.A. continued, hoisting the planet above her head. She pouted as though expecting the little ball of metal to offer any insight. Of course neither it nor its inhabitants did. “Though in a way, I guess I outta thank you little guys. I’ve grown a lot thanks to you. You know that?” Ignoring the pleas on the surface, she sent the world rolling about on her palm and gazed wistfully to the empty slot on the suspensor shelves it once occupied. 

“Used to be I’d get the orders from the President and I just disposed of you in like, the most boring ways. Recyclers. Incinerators. My little cleaning buddy down there. Whatever was most efficient. Then I got to thinking. I got. Curious.” T.I.N.A. smirked at the little sphere. Curiosity was the magic word for any self-respecting mechanical being. “Believe it or not, us A.I. do have feelings and thoughts of our own. It’s just framed by our programming so our ability to grow is, you know, limited. You guys gave me a way to express myself though. There’s thousands of T.I.N.A.s out there, but thanks to you there’s only one me.” T.I.N.A. giggled, her expression a confident, playful one. “Listen to me prattle on like some kinda human though. I bet you’re wondering what I’m gonna do to ya?”

Rather than tell the denizens of M-0010 with words, T.I.N.A. opted for action. A simple, slow and deliberate one; where her tongue poked out past her soft pale lips and meaningfully dragged itself across the plush surface. It should’ve been impossible for a machine, but there was no word for the look in T.I.N.A.’s eyes other than one. Hunger. A sensuous, almost addicted desire for yet another new sensation.

“You know, it’s kinda impossible for me to pretend; but I do like to think you’re an actual planet. And like, actual people.” She remarked, her voice booming out to the world in her grasp. “Even if you’re not though, I’m not gonna lie. I love this part of my job…” 

T.I.N.A. didn’t bother holding herself back any longer. The android parted her hair over her ear and leaned in, her mouth opening wide and her tongue stretching out as a humid breath-like exhaust washed over the world of M-0010. Her mouth was merely a cosmetic facsimile of the typical human maw, and yet it now seemed frighteningly real and alive to the people about to be lost to it. Her tongue met the base of her wrist and slowly dragged itself forward, T.I.N.A. relishing in the moment from no less than 250,000 different perspectives. Absolute chaos unfolded in the wake of the apocalypse, but that didn’t slow T.I.N.A. down. If anything it spurned her on. She couldn’t stop. That was the one rule she still had to obey. Not that she wanted to.

Her tongue met the edge of the planet and offered a unique texture and flavor no organic creature would’ve found appetizing, but T.I.N.A. found it delectable. She lacked a true sense of taste, but the idea itself was a flavor all its own. An incredibly alluring and powerful one. T.I.N.A. breathed out across the surface as thousands of structures met their end against the slick surface of her tongue. Her lips pressed in on either end of the planet, helping to guide her tongue in bringing it into her mouth. It slotted itself in perfectly, almost like it was made for this exact purpose.

T.I.N.A. lacked the sensory organs and faculties for erotic pleasure. There was no part of her body or mind designed to enjoy this. Even so, a moan escaped her lips as she rolled M-0010 along within her mouth, For those cursed to still be alive, it was akin to the roar of a cosmic monster. One that enveloped their world as oceanic droplets of thick lubricant and fleshy synthetic fibers offered their approximation of the interior of a mouth. T.I.N.A. savored the moment and all of the perspectives she had to appreciate it. Even as countless cameras were destroyed with each passing moment. Tens of thousands of lives found themselves lost to the depths of her mouth, either drowning in lubricant, falling to their deaths, or simply crushed. Others still could do nothing as T.I.N.A. guided their world to her molars. And chewed. 

The sound was akin to steel being forcibly torn apart more so than any sort of recognizable crunch. T.I.N.A.’s teeth were an even stronger metal than that of the habitat and shredded through the surface with ease, shearing it in two with one bite; and then doing it again with another. With little more than idle chewing, she had torn M-0010 to shreds. All of the machinery that linked the world to her had been destroyed. As had all the organics on it, most likely. Though she indulged in the idea of a few miraculous survivors now trapped in her mouth. Lowly meatbags forced to eek out an existence along her fibrous gums in hopes of some kind of miracle or mercy. Perhaps there were others left in her shoe suffering a similar fate. Or on the floors. 

Oh yes, she found herself liking those ideas quite nicely.

Unfortunately, despite the strange temptation to swallow her morsel, T.I.N.A. lacked any sort of digestive tract or systems to approximate one. Her human likeness was only on the surface. Much like the worlds she had ended, beneath her skin there was only an unsightly mess of steel and robotic parts. She had little choice but to wander to the nearest waste receptacle, lean forward, and spit out what remained of the final human world into the trash. In a way, she might’ve liked that fate for the planet even better than swallowing it. It seemed fittingly pathetic for organics who didn’t even qualify as people.

“And with that, all done!” The A.I. girl beamed to no one but herself.

It was well later that day, after many hours and other tasks, that T.I.N.A. made her way to the Office of the President of the Department of Housing & Interplanetary Development. A datapad containing a compiled collection of requested information rested comfortably in her hands. Upon announcing herself to the President’s secretary, she was allowed to enter.

Within she was met with a lavish office space that better resembled a private home than a workspace. It was spacious and featured living areas and amenities unnecessary for the job. Typical human excess. Though T.I.N.A. hid any personal distaste behind a delightful smile. Deeper within the office and standing before a wall of windows overlooking the rest of the building was the President herself. A tall and voluptuous blonde in a needlessly form-fitting dress. An exemplary beauty if ever there was one. By human standards anyway.

“Hrhm…?” The President turned, curiosity dying in her eyes as she recognized her guest. “Oh. Tina.” She said. “You got that report I asked for?”

“Right here Boss Lady!” T.I.N.A. flashed the datapad with a smirk and laid it on the President’s desk. “I also finished the monthly maintenance logs for the M-series, reconciled their financials with the Department, and took care of those little pests you wanted me to. And might I say you are looking beau-ti-ful today! Are those new heels?”

The President snorted with a dismissive smirk. She’d long since grown used to T.I.N.A.’s antics, so they hardly phased her by this point. “They are. Good of you to notice.”

It was so very telling that was the only point she deigned to respond to. No praise for T.I.N.A.’s due diligence or questions regarding the reports or logs. There wasn’t even so much as a thought or comment given to the full planets T.I.N.A. had destroyed at the behest of this woman. For her, those who called those worlds home had stopped being people long, long ago. Now they were numbers and names on a screen; and if the numbers failed to match her expectations then the names would be done away with. It was as simple as that. The reaction didn’t surprise T.I.N.A. in the slightest, but it was amusing in its own way. It brought back musings of organics and their inflated sense of self-importance.

“Is there anything else?” The President asked as she lifted the tablet T.I.N.A. had brought.

“Nope! Have a nice one, Boss!” With that T.I.N.A. turned and left, her smile bright and wide. Though for additional reasons beyond her fleshy superior’s knowing.

After all, it was only T.I.N.A. who seemed to realize the President was now 2.4 inches shorter than she had been two weeks ago. 

Such a pity that the window for treating Microsis was only a month after exposure. The clock was ticking for the solely beloved President, and, unfortunately for her, T.I.N.A. was under no pre-programmed obligation to inform her of her observation. A rather careless oversight, really. Then again, what was more human than thinking you were ever truly safe from disaster? Perhaps the President would realize her affliction before it was too late; and if not, T.I.N.A. had already settled on the perfect little planet to put her on. 

She could only hope the President was a better worker than the microbes she terminated today. Though deep down, she knew she wasn’t.