Ulysses burns down Sophie’s cottage, mirroring the image of his uncle house burning in Brazil. He is finally vindicated, but no pleasure comes from it, only relief. He mulls over the discussions he had with Sophie about the nature of AI, and its central question: “Will we give birth to a lobotomized freak, a monster that will proceed to wreck everything around it, consumed by the anger of not understanding a single iota of the universe? Or will we give birth to a superorganism like us, who uses the same cognitive tools to understand the world around it? And with whom we can communicate, negotiate, devise parameters, metrics, find common ground, so it can self-simulate and therefore see the world like we see it. And see us like a friend, a brother, a father. Like a son.”