The last man on Earth drove an axe through his friend’s chest. He retrieved the last double-A batteries clutched in his grasp. The last man on Earth lay back, gasping with the exertion. Overhead there was a black sky. The sun was gone. The pair lay in a dry lake bed. The water had burned away. Radioactive ash and coal dust drifted across the horizon. Bones littered the land. With trembling, starving fingers, the last man on Earth put the last batteries into the last hard drive. “$6 trillion” flashed weakly next to a “low power” indicator. “Greed is good,” the man muttered over and over, “I win.” His breathing slowly slid to a halt. The rest is silence.