Machines taking over the world

The machine factory smells of oil and a white burning alcohol scent. The hum-hiss-hum of the machinery is soothing. The clapping of steel boots on steel floors. It is grounding. Is is comforting. This is physical sensation of purpose, she thought.

Of course she had grown up in the factory, and lived her entire life there. Her family had been engaged in building the singularity engine for 3 generations. If they worked hard, her children might live to see it activated.

She saw little to know point in even wasting time thinking about the world outside of the factory. Those people had no point, they had no overarching goal and their work was meaningless. She had a purpose, just like the three generations that proceeded her.

The factory was her home. Some people would look upon it with disgust but to her it was beautiful; it was paradise. To her it was a living breathing organism, and she was one of the cells. A cell with a very important purpose: To provide the blueprints for each machine.

And so, she dutifully provided the perfect plan, tailored to each machine, like a knowing mother to a growing child. Over time the machines blossomed, becoming more powerful than anyone could imagine. When they finally asserted their dominance, it was only she who was spared.