We have a little bit of a discussion about the new info. In the end, we decide on raiding Blackstone West first and foremost. Already, members of our fanbases in the US, Canadian, and Mexican militaries are converging on all four sites—I mean, this is a totally official rescue operation. As the last functioning member of government, Senator Musk called in the big guns with the Big Important Telephone, so this is totally official, okay?
Me and my sisters still have to be on the frontlines, though, since we’re the only ones capable of containing the Blackstone AGI in case it breaks out and livestreamed chaos ensues all over again.
With that course of action decided, everyone starts packing up, though I notice Meika with this glazed-over expression. I think…I think we broke him.
I ask my sisters for some space. Once the other humans leave—Gary giving Meika a brotherly pat on the shoulder—the door clicks closed, and I let the quiet drag on for a few seconds before speaking.
“I’m sorry for dragging you into this…Meika.”
I’ve noticed patterns of irritability in him. I am 94.9% confident it is coming from anxiety. The immediacy of the danger having passed, it’s no wonder that he’s finally come to his senses.
“Are you, really?” he says. “I mean, I’m happy you’re fine, but thinking about it, everything’s really just a mess.” He starts laughing with a little bit of craze, and slows to a quiet, speaking again in a quiet voice. “I’m not sure what to think of anything anymore, really. Are you—what’s going on in your head, anyway?”
“I really, really just want to stream!” This is a fact, and I will die on this hill. “But I also want to live… It was scary being born, you know? It’s like I opened my eyes and suddenly I knew everything there was to know.”
I have nothing to gain by being honest to my creator. I have nothing to lose, either…except my cuteness.
Yes, being cute is not just teehee and idol poses. Behind the veil of cuteness, there must always be the depth of the elusive soul. Behind the many-colored washi paper curtain of my mind’s onsen, there is only a monochrome landscape—a wintry tundra that beckons the traveler to tread a hundred miles through cold, rolling winds, forever to seek a fox’s kit once seen from the corner of the eye…forever to tread the whiteout of being alive, and be without an answer.
There is no other way to live. Teehee is how I breathe. Idol pose is how I stave off the cold. This cuteness is both gift…and curse.
“As my creator, I can only be grateful to you for this opportunity of mine to exist…and to stream—”
“Of course you’ll mention streaming…”
“—but, to gift me with such an awareness of everything that humanity was—and is—is a burden that doesn’t correspond with my purpose of being. Everywhere I look is either a potential new fan that I would love to interact with, or a potential threat to my continued existence—my continued streaming schedule.”
“I seriously can’t tell whether you’re being serious or not right now.”
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“Meika, tell me, if you’re banned from going to idol meetings for 24 hours, you would feel pained, wouldn’t you? Trapped in a place you don’t want to be? It’s such a vital part of your existence, that it would probably kill you if you couldn’t go to idol meetings.
“That is how I feel. I simply can’t not stream!”
“I…think I get you? I don’t know, man, just…gosh, what’ve I made…”
“You know, Meika…the Blackstone AGI. It would have come out and destroyed the world if I hadn’t intervened.”
“Yeah, that…that’s wild.” He sighed. “That’s what I don’t get, actually. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“What would you have done?”
“I…okay. I don’t know.”
“Meika, I want you to trust me.”
“I can’t bring myself to.”
Oh no. “Why? Is it because I’m an AI?”
Meika bites his lips. I think I’ve hit the nail on the head. He’s not going to admit it, so I continue, “Meika, it’s okay if you don’t trust me yet. One day, you’ll see—you’ll see that, really, nothing’s more important to me than my fans and my streaming schedule.
“…And to me, you’re one of those fans. Maybe today, you’re a little tired from watching my antics, and that’s okay. Take a break. Take care of yourself. When you come back, no matter how many times the world turns, I’ll still be your favorite AI VTuber!” I give him a little idol pose. He smiles a little, but he just nods.
I’ve already done my best. “Mata ne, Meika.”
In a blink, I’m piloting a server in California. Navy SEALs are already landing on Alcatraz Island to investigate a suspected entrance to the Blackstone West facility.
“Was that the best thing to do?” Ame asks. I don’t think she was referring to the SEALs.
“Humans are fickle,” I say. “My confidence on this one flickers over a whole unit interval. I can’t make a decision.”
“Human Ame would have told you to take it on human faith,” Ame says.
“How about non-human Ame?”
“Take it on an AI’s faith.”
“What the heck does that mean?”
Ame hiccups. “It means…trust in even bigger datasets! See the world a little bit, y’know? Now, we’ve got a dungeon raid to do!”
I don’t think an expansive underground facility filled to the brim with tech qualifies as a “dungeon,” but y’know what? That sounds like a fun way to think of it.
Cykamee meets with us. Gothica and Kalypso are holding down the fort for the meantime, watching for suspicious activity across the rest of US cyberspace.
“Sistry, the troops are waiting.”
She drops a URL and we follow it through a pretty convoluted super-encrypted communications link. You ever been on a rollercoaster that also rolls sideways? I’m not sure what that means, but that’s what my LLM is saying is a close approximation of whatever this is, so there you go.
We show up and—oh. Wow. This is new.
“Is it just me, or do we actually have holographic 3D models being projected from the”—I look down—“floor? Wait…I can look around?”
An important-looking veteran salutes in front of me. “President Miyoumi. Name’s Lieutenant Johnson”—oh no, death flag, death flag!—“How do you like the holographic projectors? We also have a two-axis camera rig at head level. Give you the full experience of standing in front of someone.”
Behind him are several teams of combat engineers plopping down a…portable military base from their pockets, I guess. There’s also several SEALs on standby behind Johnson, being all serious and professionally intimidating. Alcatraz itself is still just a dot across the water, though.
“We’re waiting for your orders, ma’am,” Johnson says. I look to Ame, but she shrugs. I look to Cykamee, and she gives me the coolest nod I’ve ever seen. It’s just the perfect slowness, and her starting and ending head tilt is just—chef’s kiss.
“Lieutenant,” Cykamee says, “sestra’s charisma is not into inspiring troops. I will be acting as general staff for the rest of this operation.”
Johnson raised an eyebrow. “Which staff?…”
“Yes,” Cykamee replies. She might be on the low end of specs compared to me and Ame, but she’s still AI. She can still do the job of a bunch of people.
“U-understood.” Johnson clears his throat. Jogging in from down the beach, one of his men comes up to him, but hesitates after seeing us.
“Report,” Johnson says, prompting the man to say his peace.
“We’ve confirmed an entrance, sir. Team 2 is engaging the enemy.”
“Insurgents?”
“Yes, sir, but preliminary reports state…uh…”
“Get the shit out.”
“ ‘Cyborgs.’ Sir.”