More of the same.
Still thinking, the two men got tired and sat. Below them, the multitude offered a maddening spectacle of desperation and anguish. They were trying to climb the wall, some by stepping on top of other people, others managing to reach a respectable distance. But they soon fell, and their screams of mercy were only comparable to the destiny that awaited them.
But for the two men that had reached the top, their unisonal wishes of salvation were not important. They knew that the people were soon going to be gone, their fears would be placated. It was the decision of the machine, the choosing of a designer who lived before them. It was the destiny of humanity, the final stage of their short-spanned lives. And the objective of the machine was to choose one final time.
That's why the machine was thinking for so long. They considered it appropriate, as it was the reason they were the final two chosen. They were the finest, the smartest, the strongest humanity could offer.
It stopped. The moment had come. The two men got up and listened.
The machine made a scream, louder, more frightening than everything ever heard before. It started to move the ground. Already on the edge, the two men fell to their demise as with the rest of the multitude.
And as they were falling, the machine that was destined to judge them, all of them, said its final words.
"More of the same".