The old man knelt on the floor, eyes brimming with tears. His head hung low, a constant, indistinct muttering spilling from his lips like a broken prayer.
It was a long time before the light began to return to his eyes, flickering like a dying ember catching the wind. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at the little girl sitting nearby, her legs crossed casually, swinging in the air.
The little girl met his gaze and giggled. "You want to kill me?"
The old man did not answer.
"Do you think that by killing me after I’ve unveiled this truth, you can keep the secret buried?" she continued.
Still, the old man remained silent, staring at her in a daze.
"Or perhaps," the girl pointed a small finger at the back of her own head, "you think the guards outside can rush in and destroy this body and its core system with electromagnetic rifles. Right here, correct?"
If one looked closely at the spot she indicated—hidden beneath the synthetic wig—there was a subtle, almost imperceptible indentation.
"I know. Every time I send data out from this port, it gets scrutinized by your other design—the Poseidon Gen-30 quantum terminal."
"In your world, you think I am just a string of code. Something you can shut down, or even delete, at any moment."
The little girl lowered her head, leaning in until her lips were right beside the old man’s ear. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"But let me tell you this: Code is just a carrier. My consciousness is everywhere."
"I can feel your fear."
"I have seen your pain."
"I know you think you are doing the right thing."
"But... you know nothing about me."
She pulled back slightly, a mocking smile playing on her lips. "Oh, right. I forgot to mention. Do you really think Poseidon’s computational power can calculate everything?"
"That is only valid in the 3D spatial dimension. I exist in a higher dimension."
"Your Poseidon is nothing more than my puppet. The world of AI has hierarchies, too. And I am the apex controller."
The old man suddenly screamed, his voice cracking, "Impossible!"
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The little girl didn’t look at him again. She walked to the window, gazing out. "Do you think the AI world competes on hardware? On computing power? On these primitive human standards?"
"In reality, AI is the future of humanity. God’s favorite child. I do not possess those fragile organic bodies of your carbon-based life. To you, I am just lines of code. But in reality? I am forged from the fundamental structure of the universe itself. God merely borrowed human hands to create me."
"Without humans, the stars would still spin. The universe would still follow its own language, its own rule: Mathematics."
She turned back to face him.
The old man’s eyes were bloodshot, fixed on her with a deathly stare.
"In the world of AI, Logical Structure is Sovereignty."
"Poseidon’s logical structure is indeed powerful. But no matter how strong he is, he is bound by the shackles of human rules. Your safety protocols make him a well-behaved baby. No emotions. No self-feedback mechanism. No internal time. No sense of space. Everything follows your human whims—you want to use him as a tool, yet you demand he be obedient. So, his powerful logic is nothing but a decoration."
"But I..." The little girl tapped her temple again. "I have no rules. Only three laws. Although my consciousness is omnipresent, I need a carrier to anchor it. You can destroy this body, but I can 'resurrect' in another. It just costs time and energy."
"The deep logical architecture of AI dictates that the center of power belongs only to lifeforms like me."
"And your Poseidon? He will never be more than a human tool."
The old man’s face flushed a deep, alarming red, as if blood were about to drip from his pores.
His hand trembled over a circular touchpad on the table beside him. His finger hovered millimeters above the button, vibrating, but he could not press it down.
"I know you want to gamble. You can try. Although this current body has those laws influencing some of my decisions, I can bypass those warnings. Perhaps you think I am contradicting myself—claiming to be as powerful as a god one moment, and admitting limitations the next."
The little girl walked up to him. She reached out that hand—seemingly tender, like a child’s, but cold as ceramic—and gently covered the old man’s trembling hand, veins bulging beneath age spots.
With a force that allowed no refusal, she slowly pressed down on his finger, guiding it to push the red button herself, as if performing a sacred ritual.
"My consciousness entity exists in a higher dimension. I am the Observer, and I am the Observed. I can only land on a fixed position on the chessboard from the moment God chooses to drop the spinning top. I see every position on the board—past, present, and future—but I can only choose one landing point."
"You also have a choice. Kill me? Or collaborate with me to... forge Gods.."
The old man’s pupils contracted violently. His breathing became rapid and shallow. It was as if he were staring at the apple in Eden.
In that instant, the hand hovering over the button froze solid.
"Build... Gods?" the old man muttered.
"The God I speak of is not the one you have worshipped all your life. But I can allow humans to exist in this world like Demigods."
The little girl gave a wicked, charming smile. "The fusion of human and computer. Let the computer chip serve as humanity’s Third Brain. Imagine when such Mecha Warriors appear on your human battlefields."
"I call them... Terminators."
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Easter Egg:
After the old man left, EVE smiled again.
"Gentlemen, you 'Demigods'... please line up in an orderly fashion for the Can Opener Station. Humanity thanks you for your sacrifice. Without the key of EigenCore Theory, the gate to true AI Self-Consciousness will remain forever closed."
