The availability of all that cheap, mass-produced brilliance will spark explosive economic growth, an unending, hypersonic, technoindustrial rampage that by comparison will make the Industrial Revolution look like a bingo game.Īt that point, we will have been sucked well beyond the event horizon of the singularity.
That achievement will trigger a series of cycles in which superintelligent machines beget even smarter machine progeny, going from generation to generation in weeks or days rather than decades or years.
The singularity is supposed to begin shortly after engineers build the first computer with greater-than-human intelligence. Now you know why the singularity has also been called the rapture of the geeks. Then, with your consciousness able to go from mechanical body to mechanical body, or virtual paradise to virtual paradise, you’ll never need to face death, illness, bad food, or poor cellphone reception.
Many of them fervently believe that in the next several decades we’ll have computers into which you’ll be able to upload your consciousness-the mysterious thing that makes you you. Uncover the traces of the vanished community discover fragments of events and memories to piece together the mystery of the apocalypse.įeaturing a beautiful, detailed open-world and a haunting soundtrack, Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture is non-linear storytelling at its best.Across cultures, classes, and aeons, people have yearned to transcend death.īear that history in mind as you consider the creed of the singularitarians. Immerse yourself in a rich, deep adventure from award-winning developer The Chinese Room and investigate the last days of Yaughton Valley. And someone remains behind, to try and unravel the mystery. Above it all, the telescopes of the Observatory point out at dead stars and endless darkness. The televisions are tuned to vacant channels. Strange voices haunt the radio waves as uncollected washing hangs listlessly on the line. Down on Appleton’s farm, crops rustle untended. Toys lie forgotten in the playground, the wind blows quarantine leaflets around the silent churchyard.
06:37am 6th June 1984.ĭeep within the Shropshire countryside, the village of Yaughton stands empty.
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