[ WP ] Everything is spiders .

You remember it happening, you were there. 
 
 We all were. 
 
 The day it all stopped, the day it all began. The day the last news report ever was broadcast: 
 
 > Scientists at Los Alamos Labs accidentally released a self-replicating, matter-rearranging nanobot. Within minutes the entire complex was an undifferentiated greyish mass */cut to helicopter video over a spreading, miles wide, pulsating grey stain on the Earth*/. 
 
 > Scientists have offered no workable solution to this disaster, as all forms of matter are summarily consumed, and even a tactical nuclear strike was ineffective in eradicating what is being called the first truly artificial organism. 
 
 And it spread. And people were consumed. Dissasembled. Changed. 
 
 Some took to the air, only delaying the inevitable as eventually they would run out of fuel, and glide down to the undifferentiated ocean of all of us. 
 
 As the organism spread, it began specializing certain areas of itself. It played with new forms and structures, and found a better shape. 
 
 Spiders. 
 
 Yes. Spiders. From microscopic mite-spiders to creatures so large that if they were made of mere chitin and fluids, would have collapsed under their own weight. 
 
 As it turns out, having eight legs and a grasping mouth is perfect for interlocking formations of non-uniform sizes. So it became spiders. All of it. 
 
 And all of us as well. 
 
 See, we did n't die when the spiders crawled over us and stole our atoms. Oh no, that would have been preferable, to some, compared to what was to be. 
 
 Instead, every subatomic particle, spin and state, was mapped directly into the ever-growing consciousness that permeated the rapidly spreading World of Spiders. And even now, every one of our awarenesses flits through countless billion hivemind spiders made of semi-sentient molecular nightmare. 
 
 In a very real sense we have entered an eternal Hell. And in many real ways, far more terrifying than any hundred or so hells dreamed up by any religion. 
 
 To see only out of millions of faceted eyes at once... to touch only with the writing and twitching of hairy metallic spiders... and worst of all, to hear the passing thoughts of your lost and damned neighbors as they too careen frantically and fruitlessly to find some method of escaping their unending torment. 
 
 Of all of humanity alive at the moment the thing start to spread, the only ones we can count lucky are that small handful of intrepid astronauts on the International Space Station. Lucky not to be on the ground, if there is any left, here with us... and the spiders. 
 
 And for their luckiness, they got to slowly starve to death, watching the perfectly smooth, silvery billiard ball where once a living planet spun. 
 
 Maybe they blew their airlocks before the end. Maybe they resorted to cannibalism, I doubt we, down here in the spiders, will ever know. 
 
 So, everyone and everything is spiders. Spiders everywhere. From, presumably as near the core as the material of the spiders can survive, to as far as the writhing mass can build itself as it flings ever more accurate spears of hellish transformation at the Moon. Forever... 
 
 
 Even the kittens... are spiders.
