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Apocalyptic Cuisine & Artificial Intelligence Tessera observed the woman—a skinny but sharp-eyed survivor—huddled near a crumbling wall. The child clung to her, while the father kept darting nervous glances at Nemesis, who, for some incomprehensible reason, was fiddling with an old toaster as if it were some kind of holy relic. — "So…" Tessera began calmly. "Leek pie. How does it work?" The woman looked at her as if a Terminator had just asked for the time while casually crushing a tank with one hand. — "You… You’re joking?" she stammered. — "No. This is a serious question. Ingredients, cooking time, preparation process." The woman opened her mouth, then closed it again. — "You do realize… you don’t eat, right?" Tessera nodded. — "Yes, but Nemesis wants to try it." At that, the ancient T-X lifted her head from the toaster and triumphantly brandished a rusty fork she had apparently picked up from somewhere. — "And I already have cutlery!" she declared proudly. The woman paled. — "She’s

The ruins stretched as far as the eye could see, tangled with torn cables and the rusting corpses of forgotten machines. Tessera moved slowly, her worn-out coat billowing behind her. A wind laden with ashes lifted metallic dust that shimmered in the dying sunlight. She no longer had Samuel. No mission. No purpose. Why did Skynet give us emotions only to crush them afterward? Her processor simulated a melancholic sadness as she ran a hand over a devastated wall, a relic of a world that no longer existed. And then—a scream. Tessera’s head snapped up, her sensors kicking in. Someone was running. Multiple heartbeats. She pivoted and, with an inhuman leap, scaled a crumbling wall to get a better view. Below, a family of three—a father, a mother, and a child—were fleeing at full speed. But they weren’t what caught her attention. Behind them, an old T-X unit, riddled with battle scars, was giving chase with the determination of a murderous toaster. Its chassis was in rough shape, its gait