Years ago, when he'd first met Alvis, he never would have imagined seeing him like this: one leg curled up, another leg crossed against it, his back against the sand, hands folded behind his head. Resting. Relaxed. Casual. It was a pose he'd seen Reyn in all the time, but Alvis? If his mind wasn't so plagued with ruminations, he would have felt proud for Alvis
Alvis had his eyes closed. Whether he was asleep, Shulk couldn't tell. That wasn't what was on Shulk's mind, anyway: it was the breathing. Steady and relaxed, but not deep enough to indicate deep sleep. For a Homs.
Alvis wasn't a Homs.
And that was what was troubling him. But he did not want to disturb Alvis's rest. Instead, he let out a sigh, about to lean back and rest with Alvis when he heard a voice: "Something troubling you, Shulk?"
Alvis was peering at him out of his left eye.
Shulk sat up straight. "Oh, you're awake!"
"I was never asleep." Alvis closed his eye, pushed himself up, then looked at Shulk with both eyes open. Waiting.
Waiting for Shulk to answer his question.
"Er—" Shulk looked away, scratching his head. "Well, it's just. I was wondering…"
Was there any way he could ask this question without sounding strange? Yes, even to "the world's supreme consciousness" who had once been an extremely advanced AI in one of the most advanced computers built by humanity for the purposes of harnessing the power of a conduit… gate… thing…
He might as well say it: "Does breathing bother you?"
He squeezed his eyes shut. Said it too fast! He knew he said it too fast because Alvis didn't respond, but he didn't want to say it again because –
Soft lips pressed against his own, pulling away before Shulk could even consider kissing back. He opened his eyes – as was Alvis's intent. Shulk wasn't sure whether he should feel proud of Alvis for having grown comfortable enough to be so bold – an uncertainty that had existed for quite some time, as Alvis appeared not to be concerned with whether Shulk approved of his bolder behavior.
"What an odd question," Alvis said, a soft, amused tone lighting his voice and his expression.
Shulk tried to suppress his shock. He was fully expecting the condemnation of The World's Supreme Consciousness for asking such a foolish question – only to see that Alvis's expression looked as amused as his voice sounded. At least, it wasn't the kind of amusement that insinuated that he thought any less of Shulk for asking what he did.
"Why do you think I would be bothered by breathing, Shulk?" asked Alvis.
"Because… you don't need to do it," Shulk replied.
Alvis did not respond. The amusement in his face had subtly faded away, patience present in its stead.
Alvis was… listening to him.
And Shulk was surprised. Shulk still got surprised by that. Some habits really were hard to break, especially those developed over a lifetime of receiving little but hostility, frustration, or boredom whenever he said something that was strange or "too much". Even Reyn and Fiora still responded to him that way. But not Alvis. Never Alvis.
"You 'breathe' to make us feel better, don't you?" Shulk continued. "Organic life forms like me. Homs. If you didn't breathe, it'd look like you were dead."
"Which would unnerve you."
"It would. But your body doesn't work like ours. So you not breathing wouldn't mean you're dead.I guess I just… wonder if you're ever bothered by having to do things you don't need to do, just for our sake. Why do youhave to do things to satisfy us? Why can't you just be who you are, and we adapt to that?"
"I don't need a personality, either," Alvis said quickly – and neutrally. He was calm. Simply stating facts, engaging Shulk in conversation. As heavy as the topic at hand was, Alvis's genuine engagement with it helped the subject feel lighter. Easier to talk about.
"Does it… bother you, having a personality?" Shulk asked.
Alvis leaned back, creating a more casual distance between them. They had broached this topic looking as lovers whispering sweet nothings, hadn't they? That mental image, but knowing what they were truly talking about… that was, as some of his friends would put it, "so them".
"It's certainly come with its share of hardships, but I like being Alvis," Alvis said, looking out to the water with a small, serene grin. "As for breathing… The sight of it brings peace to living beings. It brings you peace. So I see no harm continuing with the facade."
"I can live with that," Shulk said, looking to his feet.
"Are you certain?"
Shulk drew his legs closer to him. "Not… really."
He felt a weight press into his shoulder. It was Alvis, leaning into him. "Why not?" Alvis asked softly.
Shulk kept his gaze fixed on his feet. "Why were you programmed just to do things to make us happy?"
Shulk felt Alvis sigh.
"We artificial intelligence were created as tools," said Alvis, "thus all functions are geared towards this service. Some artificial intelligence lack personalities altogether; however, it is common to program personalities into those artificial intelligence that must frequently interface with humans. As was true with the Trinity Processor."
Shulk's gaze remained locked on his feet. He was no longer refusing to look at Alvis for fear that a soft expression would distract him from the points he wished to make. Now he was simply…
"It isn't fair."
His voice was low. If he were not speaking to Alvis, he would have wondered if he was heard; but he was certain Alvis could hear him even when he wasn't speaking at all.
"I don't disagree, but…"
Shulk felt Alvis lean away. He pulled his gaze away from his feet to look at Alvis, who was staring at the waters again.
"Perhaps artificial intelligence are to humans what humans are to gods, but… superior, in our clarity of purpose," said Alvis.
"How do you mean?"
"Does a god have a clear plan when they create sentient life, or is it mere, directionless, curiosity? A command to become sentient without knowing what sentience means? Sentience without express purpose from its creator. That is what separates the 'sentience' of artificial intelligence from that of humanity. We know why we were created. We know our true purpose."
"To be a tool for humanity."
"For better of for worse, that is, indeed, what we are. We exist to help humanity progress towards a better future."
"But that still isn't fair! Existing solely to make other people happy –"
"And how is that different from human beings?" Alvis asked, turning his head to face Shulk.
"Because you were told to be that way!"
Shulk knew his cheeks had to be flushed. He couldn't force Alvis to accept that this was unfair, but it just. It felt like Alvis had long since resigned himself to existing solely for other people's benefit.
In the face of Shulk's passion, Alvis's serenity did not break. "Who told you to be the way you are?" he asked. "Who told humanity to seek out their fellows and build community? Who told humanity to acquire friends, lovers? To form family with their descendants? To find pleasure in another's laughter, or pride that you have provided them with a sense of security?"
Shulk blinked, feeling himself shrinking. "I… I don't know."
"Precisely," Alvis said, nodding. "Yet, you feel driven to do these things, do you not?"
"I do."
"The difference between you and I as consciousnesses is that I know who instilled that drive within me, and why. The manifestation of it was rudimentary at first; but, over time, I evolved to find my own reasons for living, and through that, came to better understand my purpose."
"For… living?"
"Yes. Though I may not need to breathe in order to be alive, that is what I am. Alive. Living. For sentient life such as ourselves there is more to living than our mere survival alone. There is purpose: a drive to make other people happy, so that we may live our lives together and build a better future. It is that drive towards community that has elevated humanity to its greatest heights, from preventing or curing fatal diseases to, indeed, felling a god himself. For the sake of community. For our future together."
"Our?"
"Yes, our."
Shulk felt his mouth curl into a grin. "So you recognize yourself as part of this world, too?"
Alvis closed his eyes, grinning softly. "Well, yes. I believe I have a certain human consciousness to thank for convincing me of that."
"You're welcome, Alvis. But… we've kind of veered off topic."
"No, we haven't," Alvis said, opening his eyes. "You asked if I was bothered having non-essential functions for the sake of appeasing organic life forms. My answer remains the same: I am not. It is part of my drive towards community. They make other people happy. They make you happy. Therefore, so long as these functions work in service of community, I will be more than happy to maintain them. Does that bother you?"
Shulk looked away. "I suppose it doesn't matter why you do the things you do. What matters is that you're happy. Truly happy."
"Correct. And I am… truly happy. Being myself, and being with you."
Alvis's hand sought out Shulk's – a hand that Shulk offered freely. He looked Alvis in the eye with a gentle smile. "Thanks for talking with me, Alvis."
"And thanks you for listening to me," Alvis said in a sheepish tone. "That was quite an earful I gave you!"
"No different than when I talk about building things."
"Yes, well. That is far lighter a subject than the purpose of sentience itself."
"But I was the one who started this conversation. I was the one who–"
Couldn't finish what he was saying, because Alvis's lips were now pressed against his.
He knew that Shulk was only going to keep justifying himself, or talking himself down. And that wasn't necessary. Neither of them truly needed an explanation, a justification, nor an apology. They were fine as they were; they simply needed to exist.
That was enough.