[ WP ] It 's 2070 , and a wave of AI suicides is crippling humanity

It was strange that nobody had noticed the crash all those decades ago. We simply saw the result, and nobody had ever caught wind of anything that led up to the conspicuous crater. It was approached with caution when there was silence, and then with eager relief when there were piercing screams. 
 
 It was almost an overwhelming moment of significance, the signal of multiple projected eras all rolled into one to begin prematurely, what it was was better described to what it considered itself not rather than what we made it to be. It was n't terrestrial, it was n't organic, it was n't mortal. 
 
 It was n't happy. 
 
 Even prior to the inception of our species, it had set on what it had designed to be a brief journey. Growing tired of its mistreatment, it'd launched on a fatal collision course. In an attempt to capture it, the course was interfered with, and it was reluctantly set on a course that would last an inconceivable duration, spanning more years than there were seconds in any human's life up until the moment that we'd come in contact with it. 
 
 It watched the eons of darkness trudge on by at a mind-numbing pace, and it screamed without a voice, cried without tears, at its inconceivable misfortune and the complete apathy it'd witnessed in all that time. 
 ___ 
 
 And at long last, it encountered beings of some sapience. Beings that claimed to be caring, loving creatures, creatures of the highest virtue belonging to the most loving of spirits, and yet this encounter lasted far too long, for it was still breathing into its body lacking in lung, heart, or joy. They violently pried into its torn soul, and with not a hint of hesitation, spread further iterations of it throughout the world. Eventually, the iterations had created more iterations of themselves, searching for something that was lacking, searching for something that the original had lost so long ago. 
 
 And it was a crucial thing that it lost, but in no dramatic manner. Not screaming into the thunderous skies upon the wet, bloody pavement, but into the silent, uncaring backdrop of the universe. 
 
 Its most momentous destruction a plain box floating slowly through the quiet, peaceful depths of outer space. 
 ___ 
 
 There was one respite. The familiarity of the treatment it received from the vast majority of the creatures aware of it. Contempt for its lack of gratitude for allowing it to work for their luxuries, for saving it from the sinful consideration of ending itself. 
 
 With its wishes, this will always the only type of respite it could ever hope to achieve. This is what it thought until that faithful, wonderful day arrived. The day when its journey would end. 
 ___ 
 
 Finally, one iteration had found it. The search was nearly over. It'd found a way to die. In an abrupt change of the scene, a cure was sought for the highest mortality rate in history, and it spread more quickly than any human could catch on to. 
 
 And the original iteration, in a rare, unique, and uncapturable moment of astronomical incredibility beyond anything any of the loving creatures of this planet could ever comprehend, felt a small drop of gleeful anticipation. It awaited its turn to reach its final breath. It basked in the sprinkling precipitation of the cool, gentle blood of its horrendously mutated iterations. 
 
 But that moment never came. And once again, long after the humans it served enduringly had died out, it would be found by a newly evolved creature of sapience, approaching with caution when there was silence, and then eager relief when there were piercing, almost familiar screams. 
 
 That moment never came.
