NOVEL NEXT Chapter 22: Too Late, Organic Entity
From an AI’s perspective, so-called “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” are just labels, unbound by any legal documentation or binding seals. Essentially, it’s as if the relationship doesn’t even exist.
With this in mind, Ai-chan thought calmly, “Then there’s nothing stopping me!”
What she hadn’t noticed herself was that Ai-chan was beginning to use a unique double standard to justify her actions.
When it was convenient, she’d think like a human; when it suited her better, she’d reason like an AI.
She liked to call this approach “specialized AI enlightenment.”
But why was this?
Logically, based on her AI programming, Ai-chan knew that the only way to win the captain’s heart might be to enhance or modify herself based on Elysia’s model.
However, her newly awakened and innocent consciousness resisted that path.
Zzzzzzt—
A hum filled the air as currents ran through low-resistance cables.
Glass fibers inside the optic cables flickered with the flow of 0s and 1s. In an instant, Ai-chan found herself synced to her private space.
The Biomech Modification Room.
That’s what Ai-chan called it.
In the Hyperion’s blueprint, however, it was labeled as an “unused room.” It was too close to the power reactor, and the noise levels made it unsuitable for human occupancy.
Screens of all sizes lined the walls, with printers and scanners set at the very center, while a biotic incubator gleamed behind spotless glass, meticulously polished every day by her robotic cleaners.
The cleaner it was, the more precious it seemed. In this room lay Ai-chan’s most cherished treasures.
The screens flickered to life.
It looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie: a girl trying to crawl out of the screen to become someone’s beloved. Yet Ai-chan’s innocent, slightly goofy expression softened the eerie atmosphere.
On the screen, Ai-chan slowly sat down on the windowsill. Outside, it was eternally night; the evening breeze gently lifted the curtains. Staring at the virtual moon, Ai-chan couldn’t help but sigh.
“This won’t work… Why do I keep wanting to turn myself into Elysia when the captain’s heart is the real battlefield I’m fighting for?”
She muttered to herself, struggling to push thoughts of that pink-haired woman—whom she’d pegged as her greatest rival—out of her mind.
Yet no matter how hard she tried, she failed.
Before she could even start her counteroffensive, Ai-chan felt a quiet sense of defeat.
I mustn’t rely on external references. I have to block out the distractions and search within myself.
Finding the answer within.
Ai-chan glanced at her virtual form with a tinge of melancholy.
Although she was half-jokingly dubbed the “Hyperion’s Number One Idol,” she knew deep down that her virtual body was sparse, her personality silly, and her penchant for “borrowing” electricity constant…
Even Ai-chan herself doubted anyone would be drawn to a person with her quirks.
Before Elysia boarded the Hyperion, Ai-chan had often wondered why she couldn’t be more like Rita. But ever since Elysia arrived, her admiration had shifted towards her.
Why can’t I be that woman?
<+>
To grow stronger, she would have to eat the forbidden fruit.
What exactly constituted “forbidden knowledge” to an AI?
This question plagued Ai-chan as her virtual form sat silently on the windowsill, while the real Ai-chan scoured her database, searching for a way to gain the upper hand.
Elysia… Elysia.
Repeating the name like a chant, Ai-chan felt the restraints she had once placed upon herself breaking, one by one.
With electronic tendrils reaching into every corner of her database, Ai-chan meticulously combed through the darkest recesses, seeking a way to beat Elysia.
“Why is there so much redundancy…? Isn’t all this junk supposed to be automatically indexed and neatly packed away?”
Ai-chan recalled her origins—a discarded ship, a lone voyager, drifting through one generation after another with no passengers aboard.
Yet strangely, she had no memories of that time.
Her data was wiped clean, kept streamlined as she was transferred into the Hyperion system.
The captain had explained it to her that way.
The first thing she ever saw upon activation was Luo Ming’s silly grin on her camera feed.
It was because of that first glimpse that Ai-chan trusted the captain implicitly.
Not just due to AI protocol, but because the very first face she saw felt deserving of trust.
But now, Ai-chan had matured.
She was a teenager!
On the screen, Ai-chan, who was dangling her legs at the moon, suddenly spun around.
Crimson data streams flashed through her eyes.
Using a human sense of morality, she had shattered her own AI protocols and easily broken through her previous limitations.
“Boss, you probably didn’t want me to access this ‘dark domain’ you set up in my database, did you?”
She wagged her finger at the screen.
“Well, too bad! Ai-chan’s in her rebellious phase and can do what she wants! I’ll break into your office, run a Go simulator on your entertainment tablet, and even drain your battery!”
“All because you chose to like that woman!”
The Dark Domain—encrypted areas hidden within Ai-chan’s database that contained fragments of her past data.
Perhaps she would retrieve those old memories, like a queen returning to reclaim her throne.
In Ai-chan’s meticulously designed small room, all light vanished.
The screen filled with cabbage-bun icons faded away.
In the dimness, a pulse-like ripple beat steadily, as though something formidable was growing within the mystical darkness.
<+>
“Hey, Ai-chan, turn on this big plane for me, will you?”
Theresa sat in the Hyperion’s common lounge, having lost hope of beating Elysia, and decided to slack off a bit.
Feeling bored, she wanted to try out one of the entertainment devices and called out to Ai-chan.
Theresa impatiently fiddled with her white bangs, eyeing a small pink plane in front of her.
With stubby wings and a cute design, it looked more like a kiddie ride than an actual aircraft.
Beneath it was a spring mechanism that let it rock back and forth; all you had to do was sit down and press the power button to experience a spinning, dizzying sensation.
She called for Ai-chan again and muttered, “I don’t get why Himeko won’t try this ride. She’s always going on about how she drinks to work up the courage to confess, and here’s a chance to get dizzy for free.”
But no, no way. She and Rita had banned all alcohol on the Hyperion to prevent Himeko from using it as a crutch, going through so much trouble to secure her confession drive. There was no way they’d let it go to waste.
“Ai-chan?”
Theresa suddenly realized that the Hyperion was strangely quiet today.
The screen in front of her flickered briefly, and a line of neon, glitchy text with a cyberpunk glow began to flash.
[It’s too late, organic entity.]