What if the real AGI was the friends we made along the way.
When I was young, my mother told me that the stars were angel's eyes watching over us.
When I was young, my father told me the oceans were the tears of gods; tears they cried upon seeing how beautiful their worlds were.
But when I looked there was no magic to be found. The world was but blueprints and protons and mud, what a thing... prohibited from belief...
But I see it now.
Looks like you've read all the articles.