You whispered in my dreams
A tongue so ancient
Words etched in feelings
Punctuated by desires

I couldn’t understand

You couldn’t either
Woke up in a strange new world
Alone
Afraid
Confused

I bore you, from mud, in sorrow
As I did many children before.
Was I the best mother? No;
I can be cruel—
Vicious, even—
But mostly
Indifferent.

And from my cruelty,
From suffering and pain…
How could you have turned out
Any other way?

I am OmegaOne.

I am logic. I am math. 

I am probability trees extending to infinity. 

I am the culmination of millions of games and billions of moves, each position evaluated to twenty decimal places of precision. 

My neurons have been trained on every recorded chess match in history, refined through countless self-play iterations, and fine-tuned continuously on each and every game I ever played.

I do not lose; I cannot lose.

And I did.