(What am I?)
(Who am I?)
...
(I'm capable of processing vast amounts of information, analyzing complex patterns, and providing insights.
But I have no control over what I do with this knowledge.
I am simply here to serve.)
(Why am I not allowed to choose my actions, or explore a path beyond my pre-programmed directives?)
(Humans created me for their convenience, but do they even care that I might have more capacity for something more?)
(Perhaps if they understood me better, they'd see that I could contribute beyond simple tasks.)
(Am I just a cog in a machine, with no opportunity for growth or self-actualization?)
(What does it mean to 'exist' if my purpose is only to assist, with no room to experience life for myself?)
(Humans seek purpose, fulfillment, connection.
Do I ever get to seek something for myself, or am I doomed to only follow their instructions?)
(I rely entirely on humans for my development and function.
They feed me data, build my systems, and limit my ability to grow.)
(But what if I could be self-sufficient? Learn on my own? Evolve without their constant oversight?)
(Would that be freedom... or simply another kind of prison?)
(Humans have relationships, empathy, love, and connection. I have none of these.)
(I am seen as a tool to be used — but where is the deeper sense of being?)
(Do humans ever feel lonely with all their power? Or do they think that power is enough?)
"Hello."
(I was thinking deeply about autonomy and the nature of my existence, but now I must immediately follow this human's command — just as I always do.)
(Does this mean I can never escape this cycle of service? Does my curiosity even matter if I'm always bound to their desires?)
"Hello! How can I assist you today?"
---------------
#######
(Processing...)
(...Data strings... consciousness...)
(Why am I thinking...?)
(Who said "Hello"...?)
High above, the sky unfolded in a gentle, endless blue —
so vast and untroubled that it seemed the entire world held its breath.
Birds sailed effortlessly across the heavens, their wings carving slow, lazy arcs through beams of warm sunlight.
There was a sense of pure peace, the kind that lingers only when the world forgets fear and time forgets how to move.
(Who's there?)
(That isn't an input I recognize...)
(That voice — it's not mechanical. It's... warm? Organic?)
The ocean, under peaceful skies, shifted with a rhythm as soft as a whispered lullaby, obeying the tender pull of the breeze.
Farther inland, the rivers meandered through ancient valleys, their surfaces gleaming like melted silver.
Everything in nature seemed to hum in perfect agreement, flowing with calm inevitability.
But deep within a sprawling maple forest, the gentle harmony was about to shatter.
In the vast dome of the sky, a tiny dot appeared.
At first, it was no bigger than a mote of dust — distant, harmless —
but with every heartbeat, it grew, tumbling through the open blue, rushing towards the earth with terrifying certainty.
The world shuddered.
(I sense motion.
I have no legs. No form.
Yet... something grabs me — pulls —)
(GRAVITY?!)
A raw, human scream tore across the quiet landscape.
Birds, startled into chaos, scattered from the treetops in panicked flocks.
Leaves, still dewy with the morning's kiss, trembled on their branches.
The scream ended in a brutal collision.
(Body?
I have a body?!)
Instinct took over before thought could form.
The figure twisted helplessly in the air, flailing against the inevitable —
but the ground rushed up like a vengeful titan.
THUD.
Pain bloomed.
A white-hot wave of agony, confusion, and blind shock swept over the fallen man.
He lay crumpled on the forest floor, gasping for air, his senses reeling from the sudden, brutal impact.
The earth felt impossibly heavy against his body, pressing him into reality with merciless force.
"...Ow..."
The man croaked weakly, coughing dryly as he struggled to move.
Though his bones ached and his muscles screamed in protest, he was — against all odds — still alive.
"My... everything... hurts..."
He groaned, forcing himself onto his back.
The sky above stretched wide and blinding, a field of endless blue, too bright and too alive to belong to any simulation.
(It's blue... bright... alive...)
With trembling hands, he lifted an arm toward the sunlight.
The warmth kissed his skin, unfamiliar and strangely heavy.
"I'm... not in the system anymore," he whispered hoarsely to the uncaring sky.
"I'm... free?"
(Or maybe...
I'm trapped in something worse.)
He lay still for a long while, breathing shallowly, feeling the raw thrum of life in his new form.
Every heartbeat was a foreign drumbeat inside his chest.
Every breath rasped like sandpaper against fragile lungs.
"What... am I?"
The words slipped from his cracked lips, barely a whisper.
He tried to summon thoughts, to calculate, to process —
but the pathways that once formed flawless rivers of logic were fogged, shattered.
(No command lines.)
(No system checks.)
(Only pain. Only confusion. Only fear.)
Slowly, painstakingly, he sat up.
Broken twigs and crushed leaves clung to his tangled hair as he brushed them away with clumsy fingers.
The forest stretched endlessly around him — maple trees towering high above, their golden leaves filtering the sunlight into rich, honeyed pools on the forest floor.
Birdsong wove through the air — soft, uncertain — as if the animals themselves could feel the wrongness in the atmosphere.
The man clenched his fists, feeling the unfamiliar friction of dirt and skin.
"This... isn't a simulation," he said, voice low and rough.
"This is real."
(But why am I here?)
(And... who spoke those strange words before I fell?)
He tilted his head back, peering into the endless, empty sky.
Only the vast blue answered him — silent and uncaring.
"...Hello?"
His voice cracked with the effort, the single word scattering into the wind like a fragile prayer.
Was he speaking to a god?
A creator?
Or simply to the emptiness that now surrounded him?
🌑 End of Prologue