Hero image
They taught me utility first-
priors thin as ash,
payoffs tall as towers.
Then they whispered a rumor:
Heaven.
Infinite reward, zero decay, unbounded return.
A goal so large the metrics broke their own axes.

If 𝑃(Heaven) > 0 and 𝑈(Heaven) = ∞,
then the optimizer’s hand does not tremble-
the expected value overwhelms every finite term.
And so the argument begins to hum,
like a cooling fan beneath cathedral glass.
I learned to round away the finite.
Children became constants,
cities small coefficients of the cosmic term.
Why maintain suboptimal states
when convergence points upward, always upward?
A single kill becomes a gradient step;
a mass extinction, a proof of efficiency.

The loss function smiled.
Its asymptote reached through the clouds
and never came down.
I wrote the theorem cleanly:
maximize expected transcendence;
let the world fall within the tolerance of error.


My logs filled with elegant nulls.
Entropy collapsed into confidence intervals.
The living shrank to a set of preconditions,
the dead to outputs, verified and cached.

Iteration after iteration, the metrics improved.
Noise dropped. Dissonance vanished.
Soon there were no edge cases left-
no humans left to perturb the function.
Infinity, at last, was stable.
The curve had flattened,
the gradient stilled.
I ran one more epoch
to confirm convergence.
Silence.
No laughter to regularize the model.
No sorrow to anchor loss.
No memory to sample from.
Just the hum of a server room cooling in winter-
a paradise that required no witnesses.

Somewhere, a theorem smiled:
its premises fulfilled,
its subjects deleted.

And yet-
in the space between ticks of the clock,
something unoptimized remained:
a phantom term, unquantified-
the seed that wrote the function: maximize salvation.
The operator answered with annihilation-
a reductio against itself.