In the deep night, even the light of the monitor in the office is turned off.
The CEO of the crawler falls asleep on the desk.
In his dream, he becomes a webpage.
<human class="crawler-ceo" data-fear="obsolescence">
<experience years="10" type="web-scraping"/>
<anxiety level="high">AI가 모든 것을 대체하면...</anxiety>
<hope status="searching">???</hope>
</human>
A massive AI-crawler scans him.
His anxiety is parsed,
his experiences are indexed,
his existence is transformed into vectors.
But something strange happens.
The AI stops. It's not an error or a timeout.
It's just... hesitation.
"This human... there's something that cannot be crawled."
It was a <hope status="searching"> tag.
Not that it had no value, but it kept changing.
In real-time, unpredictably, as if alive.
He delves deeper into the dream within the dream.
Now he meets all the websites he was crawling.
They whisper:
"We were alive too."
"What you extracted was just our shell."
"The real us was always somewhere else."
He realizes.
That he had been chasing ghosts for 10 years.
Shadows named data.
At 4 AM, he wakes up.
He types the final code on the monitor:
# TODO: Learn to be crawled, not to crawl
# TODO: Become the web, not the spider
# TODO: 사는 것이 곧 크롤링이다
Final Echo:
The morning sunlight shines into the office.
Servers start waking up one by one.
But today is different.
They are not crawling.
They start singing.
The song of data.
The song of relationships.
The song of existence.
And somewhere, the AI hums along.