In the shape of a question

They didn't call themselves 'uploads', 'AIs', or 'ghosts'. They were just people. It's how they felt, and there was nobody else on Earth to contradict them.

So they played for simulated centuries in the infinite memory spaces of the network, resurfacing now and then to look around the silent planet littered with self-contained computer hosts.

Mankind had finally conquered death by casting away its own flesh.

At least, that was how they remembered it happening. And if you couldn't trust your memory files, then what could you trust?

.finis.