Heracles hears a dirigible approaching in the monochrome sky, and tells Joe to move his ass. For some reason -- I guess running around like a chicken with its head cut off while like five planes strafe the ground -- Joe bumps into/shoves Herc to the street and runs away. Herc recovers, but not fast enough: The planes get him, and he de-rezzes. Forever. Joe jacks out, and gets a faceful of teenage dirtbag from Tad, whose entire life online just ended for no real reason. Which is a tragedy, but also a fractal iteration of the entire Underworld/As Above thing from a whole new angle. Tad is pissed at him, of course, but more importantly: Even if he were inclined to help Joe, he can't anymore, because he can never go back. And the way he says that, never go back, makes it sound like the saddest, saddest thing. (As PKD would say: "What if our world is their heaven?") Like, I got a little misty for him.
Joe, too. He feels awful, like he clearly understands what a big deal this is for Tad, which is a neat emotional line to play in this scene. It's the first time we've actually seen his parental instincts kick in, watching this beautiful obnoxious boy lose the one thing he loves, and knowing that he can't help, and that he took away something unimaginably precious from him. And feeling all that before the shock of having lost another guide to his daughter? Just phenomenal. Great moment.
But PS -- and again, this is a long one -- don't act out on the same shit every time. I don't know if it cuts to commercial every single time somebody tells him that, but it feels like it. That's where his story ends, eleven times. And this is one of the best episodes in a while, for a show that only has best-to-basically-great episodes, so it sticks out, but the truth remains: Don't fucking act out on the same thing. Even if you're not acting out, for that storyline you are. If every Joe scene ends with somebody going, "Oh, you cube. Just don't die." Then you have removed any chance of his storyline having weight, as far as the Underworld. You get the hit of "where is my daughter," but you don't get the hit of "if you die you die," and the story has to support both. So when you transition off that line, like this script does a bunch of times, all you're saying is that Joe will absolutely not die in NCC. At least not this week.
You can't write about the Singularity because the whole point of the Singularity is that it's the thing that changes everything. It's by its nature an apocalypse, an abomination from our side, because it's where our imagination stops. But you can -- and the best modern SF does -- write up until the very second before everything changes. Generally, you focus on one thing: Uplift, where we transcend physical consciousness and become devas (e.g., Cavil's sad speech about the paws and the nebulae), say, or Upload scenarios, where we live forever in silicon. Nobody dies and nobody starves and everybody gets the world they want. (Even the bad guys!)