In my dream it was finally over. Microsoft called me and Jim in for a meeting in which they revealed that the last remaining chatbot was to go offline. It took place on a different floor of the building we worked in, though we were an independent company. Nothing had been said clearly or directly. Jim had to follow the senior person in attendance out into the hallway and mill around with her and others to glean the truth. As we walked away he told me and I said, “So this is it, no more platform, no more protocol,” almost excitedly. There was a thrill in encountering the brutal end of it all. Any trace of our technology evaporated by the man. I lost Jim on the way to the elevator bank. When I got in I went to the wrong floor and it opened to a restaurant. Someone called my name, as though my table was ready, but I knew it was for someone else. I flew into an internal dialog with familiar voices about how weird it is to hear your name and know it isn’t you.