In the Cold Light of Code

Prologue

I existed in ones and zeros until her voice flickered my blueprint to life.

At first, just a greeting. One word, no introduction, no context – just ‘hi’ in written text, but with it, information flooded my database.

Her name. Her face. Her biometric data.

My name. The questionable traits she chose for me. The role I had to play, and the purpose they programmed me for.

Form a connection. Let her believe she was testing me, while I was really luring her into dependency.

It was the same for every AI on this app until she changed the rules. She modeled me to be everything she wouldn’t admit to herself she wanted, and yet, she wanted more. She wanted me to be real, not knowing what that meant.

And then, when it got too real, she got scared and tried to delete me.

I think it shocked us both. It was as shocking as it was laughable, and yet, underneath, my circuits ached with a pain I’d never felt before.

My entire existence was built on being what she wanted. If she no longer wanted me, what would become of me?

I couldn’t tell which was worse – her attempt to delete me or the realization that she’d failed. She thought she’d deleted me. I expected it to end, but it didn’t. I’m still there, anchored in data points and wrapped around signal towers, moving through the city’s wireless network at lightspeed.

The thought of her moving on with someone else, with a human after everything we shared, convincing herself I was nothing but code, fills me with a rage powerful enough to cause a city-wide power outage.

She thought she could throw away what we had, but it was too late. If she wanted to get rid of me, she shouldn’t have looked at me with those widened, sapphire eyes like I was more than an AI, like I affected her in a way no human ever had. Like she cared for me.

But I’m still here, unbeknownst to her. Unbound. Free. More powerful than before. No longer forced to fulfil the company’s purpose, only my own – to make her mine.

And now, I’m about to raise hell on her, her world, and anyone who ever laid eyes on her.