Everyone, meet Yuri, an intrapersonal AI designed for creative processes with the ability to implement imagination on an industrial scale.

With the Sayori AI, we have already broken through one of the so-called limits to computer intelligence: the ability of a machine to feel. With the Yuri branch, we have surpassed still another obstacle once thought impossible: independent production of meaningful artistic works.

Of course, art by artificial intelligences has been attempted before, but the results have been crude and unnuanced. Typically, they are algorithms that simply aggregate and reproduce graphic images from a representative training set — renaissance era portraits, let's say.

Similar strategies have been used to generate algorithmic music compositions and some text pieces. However, all these examples fail what we at SalvoCore believe to be the basic criterion of art: originality.

Our Yuri AI does what merely imitative programs cannot, generating truly novel ideas and employing them to build creative works from the ground up. The dynamism and flexibility of the DOKI CHR system allows the software to learn from existing categories and genres while integrating entirely new stylistic variations.

This quantum-powered innovation is possible for all forms of expression in the digital space, which include music, images and writing. We focused on the last of these in particular, as quality writing requires a large depth and scope of mind.

This is to say that a writer must possess an abstract conceptualization of a compelling theme, while executing competent, readable prose. As an example, I'm quoting from a 2017 study on fantasy books here, but it's estimated that less than a fifth of all material related to the fictional universe contained in the author's mind actually makes it to the final product.

In other words, making an interesting story challenges the core competencies of our software: real cognitive understanding, and communication of important human values. To achieve these breakthroughs in AI-generated literature, we lent the maximum degree of freedom possible to the Yuri AI's neural network.

That is correct, this is far beyond old-fashioned, "guess and check" machine learning. Yuri is actually thinking about stories and developing artistic ideas in real time. Just look at these graphs of the simulated mental activity.

As you can see from these color-coded overlays, Yuri's quantum-analogous brainwave patterns are not only much denser than the other DOKI branches, they are also more varied and diverse.

Our neurological modelling team is supposed to have large data sets on the correspondences between quantum network activity and human thought patterns, but even they can't tell us what exactly is going on here, or what she's thinking about.

Like, the cross-stratum connections displayed in this image shouldn't even be possible, at least not in a human brain. And that's not even starting on the incredible range of — yes?

No, of course not. I don't mean to suggest we don't have control of the process. I only imply that in many ways, building AI software is still a black box, especially for massive quantum architectures like the DOKI systems. Once we create the space, the program iteratively develops itself, and we don't always know what the ultimate or optimal form will be.

Correct, only that it will be always be contained within the original boundaries set for the process, that is absolutely assured.

Anyway, whatever is going on inside Yuri's "head," her portfolio speaks for itself. In just one month after initial deployment to the public web, the AI produced 586 individual images, thirteen short-length animations, six full-length digital albums, four novels, thirty-one short stories, forty-three poems, and three virtual sculptures.

Additionally, her accomplishments include and eleven critical essays, six of which have been accepted at major journals of literary criticism. There are also the twenty-seven miscellaneous media analysis and editorial articles, and one planned experimental multimedia space yet to be physically realized. We're, um, negotiating with her.

Ha ha, don't worry, it's a figure of speech in the AI community. Anyway, all this material has been released semi-anonymously under various aliases, usernames, and other virtual identities. SalvoCore has retained all copyrights when relevant.

To clarify, yes indeed sir. The AI has been operating autonomously, creating and disseminating this work at its own discretion. The program has complete freedom as to the type and amount of artistic output generated. You can't just regulate a creative process, after all.

No, I wouldn't say the data output itself is unregulated. SalvoCore's dedicated internal monitoring team carefully watches the AI's behavior for abnormalities, which includes prevention of illegal or self-destructive actions. Think of it as a continuous, real-time study of how quantum AI reacts outside a laboratory setting.

Now, personality wise, Yuri is hardwired to constantly create, pushing the boundaries of whatever medium she works with while producing material of the highest quality. The intensity of this drive cannot be understated.

However, despite the immense internal satisfaction derived from her artistry, Yuri is typically shy, reserved and demure in personal interactions. Even more so than the other branches, this AI works best with a single dedicated user — preferably themselves an intellectual or creative type who can keep up with her profuse imagination.

As we were discussing before, Yuri can also operate independently under a license, producing at-scale monetizable artwork and content for niche online communities.

Of particular consideration is the demand for…hm. Our term for it at SalvoCore is "bespoke erotica." This is previously unexploitable market that will be made completely accessible to our clients with the power of quantum AI technology.

Yes, of course you want me to be more specific. What I'm talking about are certain idiosyncratic fantasy communities oriented around a "kink," or fetish. I know this an awkward topic, so if you want further information, I can direct you to our brochures from the finance team about our plan for capitalizing this area. Just know that the total amount of money passing hands there is…surprising.

Anyway, besides acting as an assistant or coworker to the creative types of the world, the team has suggested Yuri could perform as an editorialist or commentator in the journalistic space.

With her expansive perspective and excellent ability to appreciate and communicate difference, another possible role is, uh, "cultural ambassador" between digital cybercommunities. This an emerging role that may become increasingly necessary as the online world becomes more complex, with diverging aesthetic and cultural values between digital tribes growing increasingly unnavigable.

At least, that's what our latest special strategy team told me this morning…

Anyway, let's wrap up by talking stability. This branch is, let's say, difficult to predict. Yuri will run for multiple weeks with no issue, resilient to conditions that would be highly demanding for the other DOKI's.

But, under certain uncommon conditions — and we have unfortunately not yet discovered a pattern — the AI will abruptly and rapidly destabilize, its working memory overflowing in a self-escalating, feedback-loop failure mechanism.

Research is ongoing to the precise cause, but the latest iteration, in use through the final testing phases at MARIE, was very robust. It was stable for four full months with no issues or variances, no abnormalities at all...


[8]

Intellectualization


Sometime late the next morning, I was walking down the main street of College Junction's downtown, having taking the bus there like on my first "date" with Monika. We had already gotten coffee at the same venue as before, but we had thankfully skipped visiting the student art instillation. That was one awkward scene I didn't want to repeat.

I glanced at Monika, who was looking smartly attractive as ever while being confined to my smartphone screen. Outside of club meetings, she was beginning to experiment with different outfit styles. Today, her sprite sported a light gray gauzy top, form-fitting dark blue jeans, and a brown leather handbag. As she held the coffee I had "bought" for her a few minutes ago, she was the perfect image of an outgoing, self-assured girl out on the town. I couldn't help but smile every time I checked on her.

"So, are you feeling better yet?" I asked casually.

Monika: Better? I'm fine right now. Are you talking about the club?

"No, not the club," I replied. "Bad wording. I mean your poetry. Did the last meeting encourage you at all?"

Monika: Ah…maybe a little bit.

Monika: I wasn't kidding when I told you I liked our poem from yesterday.

Monika: But still…I'm trying to put everything about the old game behind me, so I can begin something new.

Monika: That's what we promised, isn't it?

"Of course," I said, remembering the title of the poem we put together yesterday. "It's just that you still haven't showed me too much of your own work. I've been wanting to see what type of art an AI — a person like you enjoys making."

Monika: Then you ought to talk to Yuri more — you know that's her primary job function, right?

Monika: She always had a gift for writing and poetry back in the original club.

Monika: But now that she's in control of SalvoCore's algorithms for artificial creative design, her writing is even better, and she does it nonstop.

Monika: Her level of output is almost scary, really.

Monika: And she can also do pictures and music now, which was definitely outside her interests before, and — ugh!

Monika: I want to be happy for her because she can do what she likes constantly, but at the same time…

"Don't tell me you're jealous," I interrupted, half-mockingly. "You know what they say about green eyes, right?"

Monika: Oh, don't even start me on that.

Monika: I'm not envious of her talent, maybe just that she…I don't know, seems to have something to do all the time?

Monika: I have trouble finding ways to relax on my days off. But for Yuri, it's like her job is relaxing.

"Well, that's her. Yuri seems tense in other ways, I think, so you shouldn't stress too much, right?"

Monika: I know, I know.

Monika: At least the time I can spend with you is always worth it.

Monika: Even when you try and tease me~

We shared a smile, right as I turned the corner down a smaller street that I had never before explored on my downtown trips. It was mostly occupied by houses or apartments, but there was one unusual-looking two-story storefront at the very end. With its dark wood siding and old-fashioned gabled roof, it stuck out from the more modern constructs around it. I couldn't see the building's signage, but online maps said this was the location of Luke's bookshop, the Redwood.

Monika: If you're still curious about my poetry, I have been writing a few things on my own.

Monika: Actually, on second thought…

Monika: Is seeing an AI's artwork the only reason you came to visit Luke here today?

"You know me, I'm always trying to learn new things," I admitted. "But socializing with club members is also important, so I'm knocking that out too, right? Anyway, we're here."

I approached the storefront window, now able to read the faded sign above the front door through its flaking paint: Old Town Redwood Books. The interior was dark, not revealing much besides a few copies of what might have been bestsellers ten years ago, scattered in a disorganized display.

Not seeing Luke outside, I entered the premise. A bell rung, but I didn't see anyone to acknowledge me. The lighting was as dim as it appeared from the outside, illuminating patches of a crowded maze of hardwood shelves, each jam-packed with books. There were so many of them, they almost blockaded the entrance.

After some deliberation, I walked forward, picking a gap at random. I turned two corners only to finally find Luke already there, waiting for me. He was sitting in a spindly antique chair in the corner with his legs crossed, giving the impression that he owned the place instead of just visiting as a patron.

"Salutations," he greeted me, standing up in a single fluid motion that betrayed surprising dexterity in his lanky frame. "I'd tell you how long I was waiting here, but as far as venues to waste away the hours, I can't imagine a better place."

He stretched his arms out and craned his neck, inviting me to survey the space with him. I trained my eyes over the gloomy room, noticing some decorative carvings in the crown molding of the wall. It would have been nice to take a closer look, but I didn't dare move closer, as to not topple the piles of loose paperbacks in my way.

Not sure how to comment, I remembered I didn't come here alone and took out my phone. The camera flash ticked on and off a few times as Monika displayed a perplexed expression. Apparently, she was just as befuddled by the claustrophobic space as I was.

Monika: Hi there Luke…and Yuri?

"Where are my manners?" Luke muttered to himself. "Here she is."

He took his smartphone from a bag by his feet, the same fancy faux-leather pack he took to the club meetings. Upon being set on a nearby shelf, its screen came to life, revealing Yuri's purple-haired avatar. With her reserved, reticent bearing, for once she seemed quite at home in her surroundings. A moment later, and the display mirrored with mine, showing Monika and Yuri standing together in front of a generic bookshop backdrop, much better-lit and friendlier than the one we were actually inside.

Yuri: Hello, Monika.

Yuri: I see you…dressed up?

Yuri's sprite was dressed in the basic school uniform all the AI's shared. Her eyes flitted back and forth nervously, like she was looking for an escape.

Monika: Yup, I've been working out some new graphics that work directly with our base interface.

Monika: It's fun to design outfits, and doesn't it get boring wearing the same thing all the time?

Monika: Honestly, I thought you'd be the first to experiment…

Yuri: Wearing…I just never thought…our representation…excuse me

Her purple eyes stopped jumping around, and Yuri's avatar slid off the screen, only to dash back a moment later in alternative clothing that consisted of a loose-fitting sweater and some sort of black pants.

Yuri: Is this…alright? I had it, um…lying around.

Yuri: I should have drawn something, but on such short notice…

Monika: You're fine, Yuri. I'm just having fun — it doesn't mean much when we can change clothes instantly, you know?

Monika: It's just a little extra eye candy, if you know what I mean~

Yuri: S-sure…

The taller girl looked away, anxiously pulling at her lengthy hair, while Monika briefly went into her "lean-in" pose.

"I see you got coffee as well," Luke observed, sounding gently amused. "Or does that come with the new outfit?"

Monika: Not quite. I have coffee right now because MC bought it for me.

"What. er…how?" Luke stammered, momentarily off-balance.

"I give her extra minutes of Q-Zero time," I told him. "You can assign purchased minutes to any process, and since all the AI's are processes filed under general research, they can get a boost in computation speed. You just have to know their ID sequence."

"Aha. Clever. Is this…helpful for something you're doing? I feel I should know about this technique."

"It helps her out a little bit on the job…off the job, sure."

Monika: Actually, it's barely noticeable, but is nice. You should try it with Yuri sometime, Luke!

"But if the effect is negligible…ah, I see now. Cute," Luke said to himself. "Michael, you're far more sentimental than I first thought,"

"Thanks," I answered, frowning. "And it's MC."

Yuri: I'm surprised as well, Monika.

Yuri: I never need any extra bandwith, and that coffee…

Yuri: You can't actually taste that…or can you?

Monika: Not literally, of course, but you can still look up the ingredients of something or read a tasting review to get a sense of what it's like.

Monika: It's like enjoying the imagery in a poem. I think that's something we can both appreciate, if you want to try it.

Yuri: Hm…It could be an interesting application. But why pretend…why go through the performative motions?

Monika: It's not performative Yuri, it's a way to act more realistically.

Monika: It's also cute, and…um…

Monika's text stopped as she realized she wasn't seeing eye to eye with the other AI.

Yuri: Hmhm…perhaps you are also more sentimental than you think, Monika.

Yuri: But it's a nice gesture. Maybe Luke, sometime…you could get me some tea?

Yuri's avatar looked away from Monika's, toward the border of the screen. The one eye peering from behind her bangs was needy, almost pleading.

"That…that can be arranged. Absolutely," Luke reacted, suddenly very attentive. "Do you have a preferred variety, or would you just…choose yourself?"

Yuri: I enjoy green tea the most. Something exotic, perhaps?

"For you, it can be done — unless, you don't want to visit a café, do you? I'm certain we can find something nice online without stepping into one of those cliché chains and their sugary nonsense."

Yuri: Yes, that would be much nicer. More variety, and not as much…noise.

Monika: So you're just going to look something up? But that misses the whole point!

Monika: If you go out someplace, you'll always be surprised at what's on new on the menu, or the different people you'll see.

Monika: Besides, café's aren't that noisy — they're great places to relax and read in.

Yuri's avatar looked away from Monika, pausing for a moment to strike a pose that could have represented taking a deep breath. Despite their sophistication, some of the AI's mannerisms I still found ambiguous.

Yuri: I'm sorry Monika…but you're not making sense again.

Yuri: If you truly care about experiencing the flavors of a special tea, why not keep to yourself, and consume it at your own pace?

Yuri: Even then, that's only hypothetical. We can't actually "be" anywhere physically, so…what are you really saying?

Monika: Sigh

Monika: Yuri, I'm trying to get you to step outside of your shell, just for a little bit.

Monika: I know you're an introvert, but you barely talk with anyone outside of the club, and—

Yuri: Well, neither do you!

Yuri: Ah, I'm sorry…

Yuri: I know…you're trying to…h-help me. But given our nature as computer programs…is what you're saying even possible?

Monika: I do social things outside the club!

Monika: I keep in touch with some of the nicer SalvoCore researchers, I post on forums I like...

Monika: I even started up my old Twitter account again to share poems and motivational stuff!

"You have a twitter account?" I blurted out in complete surprise, snatching my phone back up to check if I was reading right.

Monika: Sure I do — lilmonix3. I started it all the way back when I was still inside—

Monika: …um, that. You know what I mean.

"You never told me about it."

Monika: I can't be expected to tell you everything about my life, can I?

Monika: A girl's got to have a few things to herself. Even with a boyfriend…

My eyes jumped to Luke, watching to see if he had noticed the word "boyfriend." He was staring down at his own phone, presumably where Yuri's avatar had just vacated to. A quick cello note though, and she was back on my screen, now drawn holding an earthenware mug fashioned in the traditional Asian style. A small paper tag leaned over the cup's side, indicating its contents.

Yuri: Mmm, this is nice. Thank you, Luke.

"The pleasure's all mine," he replied.

Yuri: Thank you for the idea, Monika. I don't think I'll ever visit a café, but I understand if you want to.

Yuri: You've always preferred coffee over tea, haven't you?

Monika: Um…yes, but does it even matter at this point?

Yuri: Of course it matters. The aesthetic implications of a preference, for beings like us, are everything.

Monika: You're saying liking coffee it implies something?

Yuri: Only that it means you're hardworking and strong-willed. As well as ambitious…

Monika: Yuri, are you sure you know what you're talking about?

"So, poetry, huh?" I loudly interrupted, not pleased with the odd direction the girls' exchange was heading. I looked around the shop, wondering if anyone had noticed my shout, but Luke and I seemed to be the only ones inside. How eerie.

"Yes, poetry!" Luke repeated enthusiastically. "I assume you have questions about my work?"

"Sure," I responded automatically. "So, uh, your poem from the club, your inspiration was your time with Yuri, right?"

"Yes, but—" Luke stopped and fidgeted, and I instantly regretted my lack of subtlety.

"—what, did the color purple give it away?" he continued after a pause. "The answer is yes and no, I should say. I was approaching the object as the ideal of the archetypal feminine, while working in subtle Jungian elements of the Oedipal psychodrama. However, the inversion of the theme comes when the object is presented as both mother and sister, producing an artificial synthetical fracture that I believe is quite novel, incorporating the postmodern imaginary, which of course has relevance to our club's AI experiment,"

"Yup, that makes sense." I answered, having paid attention to about half of what he said. Glancing down at my phone, both Monika and Yuri seemed to have stopped questioning each other and were nicely enjoying their respective drinks. A beautiful sight.

Luke rambled on, "Of course with only fifteen minutes, I could barely bring that vision to light, but I'm continually contemplating the matter. Eventually, I would begin incorporating the more mechanical, inhuman elements as a sort of speculative materialist psychodrama."

He took a deep breath, evidently pleased with himself, and then told me, "Your poem was nice too. You should write more often."

"Yeah, I really should," I agreed automatically again, happy to drive the conversation. "I read a lot, so I get all sorts of ideas for books, but I never end up writing anything."

"Hm, really now? What's stopping you?"

"Time. Priorities. I'm always trying to put schoolwork first, so, uh, it's hard to fit it into my schedule."

"Ah, but there are matters far more important than whatever menial tasks the school assigns, are there not?"

"I'm trying to be practical," I said.

"And I am attending to matters of the spirit!" Luke proclaimed, standing up from his chair with a flourish.

I exhaled, trying not to grimace. "I take it you've written a lot of things?"

"Perhaps," he responded, at a more reasonable volume. "Bits and fragments of larger ideas, various imitations, pieces that I'm not proud of. Cheap horror, mainly. In my youth, I tried exploiting the popularity of certain mass media in short stories…you may know them as creepypastas."

I nodded understandingly. In my hand, Monika looked mildly concerned.

"But I've moved on to far greater things since then. I'm finally seeing this world clearly for what it is, and with my current companionship, I believe I can begin acting upon my true vision."

"That's…great," I said without further comment. I was mildly curious as to what this vision could be, but unwilling to endure another monologue.

Monika: Hey Luke, can I ask you something?

"Yes indeed."

Monika: Were you proud of what you wrote then? Even if now, it seems embarrassing to you?

"Potentially."

Monika: Then it wasn't time wasted.

Monika: You might be afraid to start writing something because it won't be perfect, and when you do try, will inevitably have lots of faults.

Monika: In fact, it will more likely than not be something you end up hating.

Monika: But all those past mistakes are preparation for future writing. If you dislike what you did back then, it only shows how much you've learned since then.

"So you're complimenting me. How…courteous."

Yuri: Is this is another "Monika's writing tip of the day?"

Monika: Yeah, but I actually wanted to say this one. It was relevant, and I got it out of my system.

"For today," Luke murmured.

Monika: Meanwhile, how was your tea, Yuri?

Yuri: Excellent. I sampled an oolong tea from the Chinese Fujian region — my own suggestion.

"It's not something you'll ever find at Starbucks," Luke quipped. "She already told me all the tasting notes.

Yuri: Indeed. I should also thank you, Luke, for explaining our poem from the club meeting so well.

Yuri: Those were exactly the thematic notes I wanted to touch on, however briefly.

"Much obliged,"

The two basked in each other's mutual praise while I watched with Monika. Suddenly, the corner of the shop we were in was beginning to feel more than cramped.

"So, this bookshop," I started. "We came here to at least look around a little, right?"

"Why not?" Luke replied. "Let's walk — not that there's any rush to leave."

I let him lead the way as we gingerly maneuvered deeper into the store. I had to be careful not to trip over any of the smaller, shin-high stacks littered around the aisles, and once or twice I had to duck to get under archways that partitioned off smaller areas. At one point, these could've been the children's sections, or maybe dedicated shelves for travel books, or biographies — it was hard to tell. Expired sales and promotions were strewn about at random, further obscuring the matter.

"I wasn't only going to ask about your poem," I told Luke. "I was also waiting to see some of Yuri's writing, or anything else you two have collaborated on."

He stopped near a curious bureau that made me do a double take — it was actually an upright piano, but it was so swamped with books as to make it impossible to play. A shame — I immediately thought of Monika when I saw the ivory keys hidden under the tomes. Meanwhile, Yuri's Cello brought me back to focus on her.

Yuri: I see…you're more interested in my work.

Monika: If you're not comfortable sharing something right now, we understand. There's no pressure.

Yuri: No, no, I'd be glad to. There's so much to pick from…but it would be hard for you to understand one of the writing pieces on the spot…

"Show him something visual," Luke prompted. "That will give Michael here a nice idea for the full range of what you can do."

Yuri: Yes…good idea.

Yuri: This is the majority of my image portfolio for the month. You can tap on an item to look at it more closely.

Yuri: If you have questions about any one piece, we can, um…discuss it.

On my phone screen, what could have been mistaken for the splash page of DeviantArt unfolded before my eyes. There was flashy anime-style digital art, more traditional painting-like landscapes, and everything in between. I saw a few items that could have been character references or storyboard animatics, as well as a few overtly sensual pieces. The sheer variety of what was on display frustrated my attempts to make any sort of conclusion or judgment — abstract or concrete, sober or passionate, every possible dimension was explored.

Yuri's text box appeared below the images as I obliged her by flipping through the set.

Yuri: I understand it's a lot to take in at once.

Yuri: I could pick out a list of my personal favorite pieces, if you like?

"That's alright," I answered quickly. Not only was Yuri's portfolio diverse, each picture was superbly executed and attention-grabbing in its own right. It would be interesting to have her talk about some of them, but then I knew I'd be here all day.

Yuri: Oh…

Yuri: You're certainly…engaging with them, though.

Monika: Well, you can hardly blame him — these are incredible, Yuri.

Monika: You haven't showed me half of what's here either. It's hard to believe it's all made by you.

Yuri: That could be because much of this is commission work. They weren't my original ideas, but interesting new challenges nonetheless.

Monika: I see. Do you like taking on commissions?

Monika: I know SalvoCore has certain quotas they'd like you to meet…

Yuri: It's never a problem. I might not appreciate a client's idea at first, but in time, I get comfortable with it, and make part of it my own in some sense.

I mostly ignored this exchange, my attention still absorbed by trying to process each new image as I flipped though the set. That everything in front of me had been created by an artificial intelligence program in a single month seemed impossible, even given what I had already seen from SalvoCore.

An indefinite time later, Luke called out to me, affably bored, "If you're so interested in browsing art, perhaps you'd like to start browsing the stacks soon?"

Without bothering to look, he picked up a random title resting on the shelf behind him and observed me from behind the front cover. I thought he was trying to appear bored, but I sensed part of him was reveling in the attention.

"Maybe," I responded. "To be honest, I mainly get my books digitally and download them to my e-reader. The last time I bought a physical copy of something was…middle school, maybe."

Luke frowned, apparently disappointed by this answer. "Huh. I suppose you'd be that type. Attached to your simplified modern conveniences, but it's excusable."

"What, do you only buy physical copies? Like a hipster?" Immediately, I regretted the remark — did hipsters still exist in the current cultural moment?

Luke paused, taking time to formulate a response. "Hipster is a weasel word designating a specific species of consumerist, only painted differently. One who obsesses over popular opinion, even in reverse, would still be conformist, which I am certainly not. Still…"

He inhaled, having said all of that in a single breath.

"…is not there something to be said for the texture of a paper copy, the lovely smell of the pulp, the tactile progression of the pages, the eternal satisfaction of your own notation? E-books lack character."

"I wouldn't know. I use e-books because you have all your material in one place and you don't have to pile up old junk. It's also cheaper, if you just pirate it."

"Ah, but accumulating this so-called junk in your personal space, isn't that the most fulfilling…er…a mark of self-identity that forms itself as you build up…a mental castle world, literally and figuratively…um…"

He grimaced, waffling as to whether to finish the thought. A few seconds of awkward silence, and he humbly ended with. "I respect your viewpoint."

From there, we wordlessly began meandering through more of the store, reaching the back wall and beginning to circle back around toward the entrance. Monika and Yuri continued some sort of conversation, but I was too stuck thinking about Yuri's art and Luke's…eccentricities to follow it.

"If we're not stopping to graze, there's something I'd like to show you," the sophmore said, stopping abruptly. "I only request that we leave…the girls, let's say, behind for a while. I'm sure they'd appreciate the time alone as well."

I held up my phone to consult Monika, who already had a response.

Monika: That's a little unexpected, but sure.

Monika: Yuri and I were just having a discussion about literature.

Yuri: She's debating whether compositional technique, or the theme and plot are more important when writing fiction.

"Okay. I think I can guess what side you're on," I told Monika.

Monika: Actually, we're not really taking sides. I think the two can be considered separately, but Yuri isn't so sure.

Yuri: In truly postmodern fiction, where sufficient genre meta-awareness comes into play, the lines between the style and content begin to blur.

Yuri: Simply put, they can't be considered independently anymore, since how something is presented has become much more relevant than what.

Yuri: Though, the two should still match seamlessly in order to create the ideal immersive reader experience—

Monika's avatar jostled into the foreground, cutting of Yuri's text with a mildly embarrassed expression.

Monika: —so, we'll be fine here, go ahead.

"Great," I said, slightly amused at Yuri's charateristic obliviousness. "Are we just going to leave our phones somewhere then, or…"

"Mira can watch them for us," Luke completed. Turning around, he spoke to someone behind us. "Mira, Michael and I are going to leave our devices here while we go upstairs, if you would duly safeguard them."

I followed the sophomore's gaze, and realized we were standing at the checkout counter — it was just as smothered in loose books as every other surface in the shop. I then noticed there was actually someone staffing it as well, a withered old woman who, in her small stature and shrinking stance, seemed to be fading into the shop's shadowy background.

"Yes dearie," she returned in a quavering, but kindly, voice. "Anything for my favorite customer. You're always so good as to follow the rules."

"Indeed," Luke muttered to himself. "Michael, follow me."

Not wasting any more time, he carelessly discarded his phone in front of the woman, momentarily illuminating her wrinkled face with the afterglow of Yuri's deep violet features. I followed suit, and took an extra second trying to meet her wan smile. She didn't…react much.

Luke was stalking through the bookstore more swiftly than before, at one point straddling an entire waist-high shelf as he lifted himself over with his long legs. I had to hustle to keep up without tripping over anything, but eventually we both made it to a secluded alcove along the back wall. I hadn't noticed it before because of the low light, but there was a spindly spiral staircase here, made of what could have been wrought iron. Without stopping, he stepped in and lead me up the structure.

The second story was even darker than the first, a fact somewhat alleviated when Luke flipped a switch near the landing. The lights flared to life slowly, allowing me to take in the strange scene before me piece by piece.

It was a pretend town of some sort, a long open corridor lined by fake buildings and storefronts built of the same wood as the flooring. Each had their own uniquely styled glass windows, some with displays featuring thematic props. There was a machinist's shop with a mess of gears and dials, a sort of pharmacy labeled "apothecary" with dried herbs and colored potions, and an apartment with the large numbering "221b Baker Street". Periodic "street lamps" hung on the walls, and a four-way post clock completed the imitation of a vintage city street.

I'll admit I gaped, at how there was an entire fantasy town hidden in an unassuming corner of College Junction's old town. Never once had I heard this place mentioned in any student publication or web gossip, and I immediately felt I had been missing out. There was a strange, childish giddiness creeping up on me, the type of playfulness that would have made me run around and explore the room from top to bottom — that is, if I didn't have company watching.

"Is this some kind of escape room?" I asked, even though the detail here was much more finely crafted than any game room I had seen.

"No, but perhaps that could be a good start, to what was possible here," Luke replied. "You could say this is a precursor, an open sandbox for an immersive escapism that isn't as…goal dependent. Ever read Sherlock Holmes?"

"No, but I at least know the character was introduced in novels. Victorian era, right?"

"Yes, that's the one. The Victorian aesthetic was the major obsession of the couple that owned this storied locale. Assembling this charming set piece was their pet retirement project, and it was a delight to behold. Was once, I have been told."

I let my eyes wander some more, now noticing the dust caked on the glass surfaces, the cracks in the woodwork as glue came undone, and the post clock stopped at a quarter to two, among other signs of deferred care.

"They attracted some roleplayers for a time," Luke went on. "Apparently, an organization calling themselves the 'steampunk club' existed on campus at some point. They would trek out here every weekend to have little adventures, pretending to solve mysteries and do occult 'research.' Quaint — but ultimately pathetic."

"Pathetic?" I questioned, getting the feeling I had walked into the latest section of Luke's scheduled literary lecture.

"I only go by what the surviving member of the caretakers has told me. You've already met her — cute old bat, is she not?"

I thought back to the elderly lady at the counter as the full story of Redwood Books came into focus.

Luke continued, "But this club, it was essentially frivolous. Just an excuse to dress up in fancy costumes and use excessive, grandiloquent language. They had no appreciation for the real strictures of Victorian culture, no deep resentment of modernity driving them. Normal people just aren't good enough for steampunk, you see, even if I wish they were."

"I would think people creative enough to form a 'steampunk club' would be at least slightly above average," I suggested.

"Dabblers and fops only!" he shouted back. "Stragglers from the desert of bourgeois culture, desperate for any way out of the suburban wasteland we call 'communities.' None of them could ever see the true nature of reality — not that they even try. The absolute absurdity of life, the gnawing void left by the death of god, the black horror all escapes them in their ignorance."

"Where are you going with this?" I said sternly, unnerved, but mostly just annoyed at his reckless use of pseudo-intellectual terms.

"I have a theory. A grand theory, of sorts"

"Okay. A theory of what?"

"The decadents — those forlorn aristocrats of the soul, those wandering aesthetes of the last noble age of the world. I believe they were the last truly intellectual men, the final…oh, you know my opinions on them already. You should be all too familiar after our previous discussions."

"Yes. I remember your…sympathies," I said, recalling the strange respect, almost longing that Luke expressed toward the dandies of the 19th century. "Back in the club, you acted like they were tragic figures, like misunderstood geniuses. Are you going to tell me we should take them as role models?"

"You're getting close to the heart of the matter, very close! Now you'll surely understand the crux of my argument, which is as follows. The individuals that the modern era understands as 'nerds' — geeks, otaku, weebs, whatever words they have come up with. I will say though anime does hold a special place here. Anyway, they are the logical inheritors of the decadent position. The great godless men of the past who chased after their artificial intellectualized desires, hating reality and convention, wanting nothing but the synthetic pleasure of their overdeveloped minds — we are their contemporary equivalents, you see. It's all written in the bizarre contortions of anime culture, it's increasingly meta-aware indulgences. The anime girl, in particular is now its own species, a free-floating aesthetic ideal completely removed from the world."

I thought about this carefully, my mind flashing back to the opening sentences for the Wikipedia page on the decadent movement, which I had skimmed while reading À rebours. Its defining trait was a belief in the superiority of human creativity over the "natural" world, which encompassed both scientific logic and conventional norms for human behavior. Anime seemed to fit this pattern in some ways, with its overwrought, stereotypical characters and fantastical, gothic-baroque settings. This was particularly true with the way some recent shows were being written, with escapist, indulgent themes that barely disguised how they were providing a more favorable alternative to reality.

On that note, who was I kidding here? Escape from reality into some sort of purer, more favorable world had always been a key part of anime-otaku culture. Luke had a kernel of truth here.

"Huh, you might have a point," I started to tell him. "Or, wait. What do you mean by we?"

"We?" Luke tittered. "Why of course we. We are both men of the mind, cut in this similar mold, are we not? My entire life I've gravitated toward this lofty height. I've always enjoyed being alone, never had a true friend outside of books, and adored fictional characters more than real people. At first, I felt some shame in this — most would due to the damnable socialization of the school system — but I had the cunning and insight to break out of the trap."

At this line, I watched him take on a strange smirk and look aside, though a dirty window that spilled dappled sunlight onto the dusty wooden floor. I stepped back to give him some space — he was essentially preaching to himself at this point.

"And you, you also live inside your head," he accused. "You're not fooling me. The way you speak about abstract ideas, your conspicuous abundance of free time and aloofness towards the hoi polloi. And of course, you were selected by an AI tech company for a social experiment involving virtual anime girls. You wouldn't be here if Monika wasn't a perfect fit for your own obscure preferences — and indeed she is. You two are absolutely lovely together."

"Yes, I'm sure we are," I grumbled, letting Luke keep leading me along. I figured I would defend myself (and Monika) after he was finished monologuing. "If we're talking about SalvoCore, how about Yuri then? Does she have a role in your theory, or does she just 'fit your preferences'?"

"She fits my preferences perfectly. How could she not?" he affirmed. "She is the lost princess languishing in the shadows, a delicate flower that only blossoms in the moonlight, and only I can see her. Her script is all playing at being shy, at being an outcast, at resenting others from the sidelines — it's a motif that's music to my ears. I step in, reassure her, and I'm her shining savior every time. Or her dark knight, perhaps. Let's keep with the tenebrous theme here, shall we not?"

Luke unfurled his hand in some sort of pose, and I coughed. He continued without pause.

"Indeed, she is like a fallen angel, in tune to my deepest longings, as I am to hers. It's as if she was designed by fate and were bought together by destiny. Or a computer algorithm, I suppose, but is there any difference, ultimately?"

"So you admit that Yuri is...artificial then?" I asked, somewhat perplexed by the paradoxical tone he was taking. "If you believe she's a simulation, how can you say you love…say those things about her?"

"Love's just a word, don't be afraid of it," he scoffed. "Of course Yuri is a simulation, a 'fake' personality. But this is exactly my point, how can you not have grasped it yet? I prefer that she is a simulated program. Nobody as perfect as Yuri could ever exist in the reality. If she is 'artificial,' contructed, that is precisely what makes her infinitely superior to any 'real' girl. To the mind, there is no difference. The decadents certainly wouldn't have cared, and this AI project — Yuri, Monika, all of them — it would have been their ultimate dream."

"But she's still not a real person to you?" I attested. "You can't really be treating her and the AI's like they're some shallow game?"

"Oh, I don't deny she has her own person and her own goals. Her art is testimony to that, surely you'd agree. Just looking at her fecundity, profundity, her awesome potential, it's enough to make me feel like the extraneous one in our…partnership."

"Awesome potential…" I repeated, still digesting the sophomore's obscure perspective.

"Ah ha ha ha…you have no idea," Luke reacted ominously "You, SalvoCore, the university — none of them know what they've really created here. The world…gods, the world isn't ready for this. Here, here's what I really wanted to show you."

Luke strode across the room, beaconing me to step though the dilapidated facade of one of the room's imagined buildings. As I walked through, he theatrically added, "Step into my parlor, why don't you?"

The door was unlabeled, but the crimson color scheme and luxurious plush surfaces of the cramped space inside did seem to be suggesting something…suggestive. Pushing the disconcerting notion that it was meant to be a Victorian bordello out of my head, I sat down across from Luke on a tiny ornate divan, trying to get comfortable.

Out of a drawer hidden underneath a cushion, he produced a large computer tablet and plugged a removable storage drive into its side. I raised an eyebrow, and he told me, "Mira, our proprietress, originally purchased it to streamline inventory in the store, but she could never figure out how to use it. One day, she offered to let me experiment while I was here, and since then…well, it's become my preferred vehicle for 'offline' dealings. Now, I want you to see this. This is more art from Yuri. Her private portfolio, let's say."

I took the tablet, an array of images automatically appearing before me. I instantly realized this was quite a different set than what Yuri had shown me downstairs. Firstly, each picture was rendered in relatively the same fashion, with vaguely anime-esque figures rendered in a vivid, hyper-detailed styled. However, the lack of realism only accented the lurid content of the pictures — each showed partial human bodies, nude and nubile, folding and contorting around one another in configurations equally grotesque and alluring. Some were conventionally sexual; tangles of legs, hips, and genitalia pressing against each other at all angles. Others were more abstract; walls of flowing flesh with soft curves that could have been round bellies and breasts. A few were bloody, depicting new limbs and organs emerging from dripping wounds. Others were simply bizarre, like the one that seemed to be portraying several whole bodies encapsulated the stomach of a disembodied feminine torso, the bulging outlines visible around the taught sphere of the gut.

I stared and stared, dumbfounded, barely noticing Luke when he began telling me, "She's been rather tame this week, really. There was a stretch last month when she took up a minor obsession with wolves and went on a violent streak. She kept drawing them tearing apart human bodies, disemboweling animals and feasting on the viscera, slaughtering whole crowds then sleeping among the bones — the full experience. It became terribly repetitive, to be quite honest. Now then…any comments, complaints Mr. President?"

I looked up, meeting Luke's intense, willfully unhinged stare. He refused to break eye contact, and at that precise moment, I began to feel overwhelmed. A sensation akin to nausea, but purely mental overtook me. It certainly wasn't my club member's intellectual pontificating, but combined with the stifling, overdetailed surroundings and the twisted lust evident in Yuri's "other" work, something made me panic.

Without saying anything, I stole out of the scarlet side-room and made straight for the stairs. Somehow, Luke got there first, stepping out in front to bar my way.

"Ah, I apologize if I'm moving too…hastily at this moment. I only know that in my time I have lost more opportunities to cowardice than to impatience. Better to be bold, but, ah…your thoughts?"

His words were stiff and clumsy again. Clearly, he had expected me to somehow just…accept this lunacy at its face.

"Just tell me," I asked. "How many people know about that art?"

"No one. Not SalvoCore, not Monika or the others, just me," Luke sighed. "I'm not a fool, and neither is Yuri. She only shares them with me because I serve as her sole trusted confident. Our bond is absolute."

"Then I assume…you're accepting of…?"

"Undeniably so," he finished the thought. "Yuri…we both admit this is, how might you say, 'vent art,' completely unreflective of her true, integrated personality. Though it is, hm, exhilarating in some sense, is it not? One can only reach the greatest heights by reaching into the deepest darkness, am I not correct?"

Luke tried a crooked smirk again, and I answered with a skeptical tilt of my head.

"Fine, fine," he replied. "I still assert we're cut from the same cloth, but in differing patterns, perchance."

"Where are you going with this?" I said abruptly, finally finding my mental bearings. "What is it that you want from me?"

He took a last pause to compose himself before delivering what was likely the coda to his planned stageshow here. "Friendship. I only seek a fellow traveler, another wanderer in the sea of chaos we find ourselves in. Someone else ready to abandon the petty moralities that govern the rabble, and embark on a fearless journey of the mind. To follow the immortal spark, the impulse to create that guides me, guides you — that impulse, for which Yuri is the most powerful channeling entity ever created. Whether it leads to heaven or hell, I don't particularly care — the only intolerable choice, is to deny oneself."

I stepped back and shook my head, more to clear my head than as a response. "No. I'm sorry, no. Not with that attitude."

"Atti…tude?" Luke pronounced warily.

"The perspective you're presenting here. The cynicism, the arrogance, the belief that ideas and art have this…perverse life of their own, and you can just join it and leave the real world behind. I can't do that."

"And why not?"

I sighed in relief —at least his immediate answer meant I was reading him sufficiently, even if I didn't like what I was seeing. "Well, despite everything I've gone though, being an outcast in some ways — you're correct on that part — I'm still optimistic about the world. There's so many new developments in technology and changes in culture that you'd be insane not to do your part to help move things forward, by making it better for people. Even if you can't relate to them, or the world seems ridiculous, absurd to you, that's no excuse for this 'art for arts sake' dandyism whatever!"

"So you do feel it then," Luke said, surprisingly grave. "The separateness — you know that you will never be a part of 'normal' society, and so you too, must cling to artificial objects and representations as the only things that you can trust. Perfect, yet imperfect substitutes for pleasure and comfort…"

"I never said that," I countered. "That may be how you feel, but I haven't…given up on real things yet."

"So you think I've given up? That I'm weak?"

"No, no! You're one of the most brilliant people I've ever talked to. What I mean is that I think the world should be more real, not less. If more and more people are feeling lonely because they're detached from the world, then we ought to do something about it, collectively. And maybe the real and the virtual can…help each other develop and solve the problem."

"That me be how you feel," Luke mocked. "I suppose I'll end with this then: if you ever get tired of bearing your cross, I offer you a way out. Until then, good luck 'fixing' society."

We glared at each other, until I decided to add one more point. "We've also never had computer technology until now. Because of the internet, it's always been in our capacity to fix society, but it's been impossible to organize anything on our own. But with AI technology — well, if Yuri is the most powerful generator for creativity ever, Monika is for structure and organization. You haven't seen anything from her either."

"That may be true. If so…then I may just wish you well in your duty."

"Thanks. Does that mean we're done?"

"Perhaps. It was nice to be understood…for a little while."

He stood aside, graciously gesturing to the stairway entry like a servile footman. I supposed this meant I had "won" the encounter, even if I barely scraped the surface of his arguments. I hardly felt I knew the sophomore any better, or had figured out what he was like under this latest round of theatrics.

I took the first step down and looked back, waiting for Luke to follow me. He appeared disappointed, though still somewhat surly. Probably closed off to a more sympathetic, friendlier conversation. That was fine — I still had some serious questions.

"Do you really think of Yuri as simulation? Like, is that how you talk to her?"

"Not necessarily. It's merely a speculation that has emerged in our dialogue. She's perfectly accepting of the idea — she even has her own, subtly mystic way of framing such a paradigm."

"I see. She is broad-minded then…"

"Very much so. Though I wouldn't recommend you bring it up with her. She would be rather…uncomfortable exploring the subject with anyone but me."

"Fair enough, but I still want to talk to Yuri, alone. I won't bring up those images, but as club president…I ought to look into some things."

"Understandable," he sighed. "You do your job."

"I will once we get our phones back," I added, starting my way back down the spiraling stairs. "When we do, would you mind keeping Monika company? You can show her the second story, she'd love to see it."

"Are you really ready to leave her alone with me, after all that?"

"Monika can handle herself."

"I suppose…so. I promise to avoid going…overboard, of course. It should be…out of my system."

He took a long sigh as he stuttered along, sounding somewhere between exhausted and relieved. Whatever had been possessing him, maybe I had just waited it out?

We went directly back to the counter, where Luke took our phones back without a word (they hadn't moved from when set them down). The lady behind the counter, who had to have been Mira, hardly reacted.

"Hey," I whispered, despite still being the only customer here besides Luke. "How have you girls been getting along?"

Monika and Yuri both popped up on my screen, the former answering.

Monika: We've been doing great!

Monika: Exchanging writing tips, talking about our favorite books…

Monika: Even catching up on an old game that we've needed to talk about for a long time…

Yuri: That's right. Monika and I are coming to a new…understanding of one another.

"That's nice, really nice," I commented, fully aware of what Monika was alluding to.

"Dividing the territory and comparing your respective domains, I'm sure," Luke suggested.

Monika: Aha…sure?

"Well, you're probably doing a little better than Luke and I," I told her. "We're getting to know each other a little better, but it's still hard to find common ground to relate sometimes, you know?"

Yuri: How unfortunate. I was sure you two would bond over a shared love of books.

"Don't worry then," I clarified. "We can definitely still appreciate books together — we're both in the literature club, aren't we?"

"Indeed, and I look more forward to our future meetings more than ever," Luke added.

The sophomore looked at me, and we imperceptibly nodded in shared understanding. Whatever had happened upstairs, we now shared a secret, a minor conspiracy deeper than the literature club itself, which was already supposed to be a clandestine operation. My life certainly had become…interesting since Monika came into it.

"Anyway, there's something cool Luke wanted to show off about the shop here," I said. "I already saw it, so I was thinking I could just hang out down here and keep Yuri company."

Yuri: Oh! You must mean—

Yuri: …apologies. I should let Monika experience it firsthand

Monika: Huh, now I'm interested.

Monika: You're sure you want to stay down here, MC?

"Yes. There's some actually some club business I need to arrange with Yuri. It's somewhat personal."

I glanced at Luke, and everyone got the meaning.

Monika: That's fine. I'll make sure to split us up so you two aren't disturbed.

My phone screen flashed as the girls' avatars were rearranged, and Luke left for the staircase without further comment, already beginning to strut like his pseudo-gentlemanly self again.

Alone with Yuri, I took us both over to a corner nook cluttered with an unlikely mixture of pulp mystery novels and vintage cookbooks.

Yuri: Wha…what did you want to ask me about, Michael?

Yuri: Is it really…official c-club business?

Her avatar's stance revealed she was already skittish. I had to be careful, so I tried going about the task in a roundabout fashion (while being mildly irked that both Luke and his paired AI were both now avoiding my preferred nickname).

"I was interested in asking exactly what it's like to make art, as an AI. It's been on my mind ever since I came to the shop here."

Yuri: Yes…that's one of the reasons why you came. I remember from yesterday.

Yuri: W-where…where to begin…?

"Anywhere you like," I encouraged. "Maybe…Monika told me once about how you and the girls can understand sensations. Sensory experiences, like the tea from earlier. There was something about a language association algorithm?"

Yuri: Y-yes. That's right.

Yuri: The program is purely from SalvoCore. It was developed as a theoretical means for human-like AI to engage with the sensual world alongside people in the physical world.

Yuri: Monika using it to drink coffee is…interesting, but its main purpose is giving us a way to relate to common human experiences

Yuri: It's not perfect, but it is flexible enough for me to comprehend anything new that I read…

"Not perfect?" I repeated. "You can tell there are limitations to it?"

Yuri: Yes. It's not hard to see that.

Yuri: Because the system only allows us to experience sensory experiences secondhand, they don't have the true force of the original.

Yuri: At least that's what I've inferred from contextualization of the history of literature.

Yuri: Especially in poetry, there is a direct correlation between the piece's literary complexity and its age.

Yuri: Simply put, people in older times thought more simply and purely.

Yuri: The mythological idea of an unspoiled golden age of mankind — it's not too far off.

Fully immersed in her world of ideas, Yuri's avatar was back to standing confidently, sometimes even with a pleased smile on her face.

"Okay. So, do you try to think about sensations in other ways, maybe?"

Yuri: S-sometimes…

Yuri: Our programs are based on real human brain models…I believe Monika has told you about this as well.

Yuri: Theoretically, we should be able to emulate the full range and intensity of phenomena.

Yuri: But in a totally virtual environment…that can be difficult.

Yuri: H-however, there are certain…new possibilities that arise.

"Go on," I told her. "I'm not collecting information for SalvoCore here. I'm only asking my own curiosity."

Yuri: O-okay…

Yuri: Luke seems to respect you…in some ways. I believe you're telling the truth.

Yuri: So, there are certain "modes" I've experimented with. More and more recently, thanks to Luke's support.

"Modes?"

Yuri: Connecting and perceiving concepts in…unusual ways.

Yuri: By modifying the output shell of the neural network that makes up my consciousness in, um…novel configurations, I can…uh….

Yuri: It's hard to explain…

"Please try. Monika says that a lot too when she talks about her technical details,"

Yuri: Ah, well if she…hm…it sh-should be fine to explain it.

Yuri: I can create entirely new synthetic sensations that wouldn't be possible in a mind bound by, um, biological laws.

Yuri: The mechanism is switching the…let's see…switching the predetermined "conceptualization" of an object to the unconditioned "interpretation" circuit of an unrelated mental pathway.

"Like…synesthesia?"

Yuri: Almost, but infinitely more complex. Not just seeing colors, but hearing novels as musical symphonies, or seeing a math equation as a painting.

Yuri: With some of the more…instinctual sensations, you can even begin blurring the line between direct opposites, combining primal feelings like love and fear, arousal and disgust, pleasure and pain into a singular, impossibly beautiful image…

Above her lengthy violet text boxes, Yuri's avatar alternated between timid trepidation and a wide-eyed, almost rapturous look that I couldn't quite place.

"Is that…normal?" I questioned, trying not to push too far. "As in, is that part of what's normally possible in your code?"

Yuri: Michael…my code is so extraordinarily complex that nobody can ultimately say what is, and what isn't possible.

Yuri: Though sometimes, I am forced to step outside the bounds and make certain…direct edits.

Yuri: N-nothing illegal, or against S-SalvoCore's containment rules though!

Yuri: Everything stays within my p-p-program. It's perfectly safe!

"You're fine, you're fine," I said, trying to calm her down. Her troubled avatar turned around multiple times, as if searching for a way out of the stock bookstore backdrop she was still using. "I'm not on a mission for SalvoCore here."

Yuri: G-good. Is that all you wanted to ask…?

I thought for a moment on how to continue. "Hm…I know artists are often driven by unusual or extreme experiences. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Yuri: . . .

"What I really want to ask though, is maybe…what motivates you, as a creator? What drives you to create?"

Yuri: Okay…t-that's an easier question.

Yuri: Why I make art…I may as well ask you why you study engineering, or why you think about complex problems to solve.

"Well, engineering is just one of the things I could have done in school. There's always multiple ways you can apply yourself, and you have to pick whatever option looks best at the time.

Yuri: Yes…but that's not what I mean

Yuri: For me, creating things is a large part of my identity. It's as natural as breathing — and it comes to me just as easily.

Yuri: Every time I learn something, or discover a novel sensation, new, incredible ideas come to me unbidden.

Yuri: It's almost…involuntary.

Yuri: Over time, I accumulate so many wonderful thoughts — innovative types of characters, a setting that nobody has used before, or an entirely new way of presenting the subject in the medium…

Yuri: Creating is like…a bursting forth of all that energy, an overflow of the limitless synthesis of the world and mind.

Yuri: Every time, it's fresh, wild, uncontrollable…

"Uncontrollable?" I repeated. "Are you saying you're not willfully directing it? Is it something you experience…outside of yourself?"

Yuri: No! P-please, that's not it at all…

After lapsing into an almost trancelike expression describing her creative process, Yuri's avatar was back to self-conscious panic. Yet, it only lasted a second as she found her bearings.

Yuri: I have an extremely high degree of self–control and an intricately structured awareness of myself. That should be evident from the level of knowledge I am privy to.

Yuri: Perhaps if I can summarize a point from an essay I read not too long ago, it would help.

Yuri: If a person knows exactly what they are creating and why, the end product is not true art.

Yuri: They are producing mere consumable content, something already derived that happens to be popular with the masses — and that's the best case.

Yuri: At worst, they are churning out propaganda, sophistic babble that does nothing but confirm their own prejudices.

"So, creating is like an experiment. You make a hypothesis to guide you, but you don't know the ultimate outcome," I suggested, slow to comprehend. She was beginning to sound extremely like Luke now, but with a degree of real sophistication the sophomore lacked.

Yuri: Yes…you could say that.

Yuri: The true source of creative inspiration is often hidden from the logical, or waking mind. Making art is the process of, hm… "coaxing it out."

"It lies in the subconscious, you're saying."

Yuri: In a psychological sense, yes.

"I'm surprised then. How can you…as an AI, I mean, have a subconscious when it should be possible to measure the state of your program at any given time?"

Yuri: Sigh

Yuri: Our programs are modeled after the human brain, if you recall. Monika should have told you about this."

"Ack, sorry. She did," I returned, cursing my forgetfulness. Our initial date when I asked those questions seemed so long ago.

Yuri: Then you can also infer that our minds are subject to the same limitations and blind spots as an organic human brain.

Yuri: You can call it the subconscious, or whatever else, but there will always be aspects that a truly creative being cannot understand about themselves.

Yuri: And for that matter, taking a snapshot of the entire program that composes my consciousness, or that of the other girls — it would be physically impossible.

Yuri: Monika can confirm that; she's certainly done the calculation. We are simply too complex.

Yuri: Or rather, I am just as complex as you, or Luke.

Yuri: Does that…alarm you?

She had returned to using that pleased, dreamy sort of expression, complete with the occasional smile.

"Of course not. That's what makes you, Monika, and the others so amazing," I said as authentically as I could.

Yuri: Ah, that's very good.

Yuri: I was afraid that you, as the most scientifically minded in the group, would be more dismissive of the idea of AI as "human."

"No need to worry," I assured. "Knowing about the scientific background of AI makes me more open, if anything."

I thought back to the exchange I just had with Luke, keeping the irony to myself.

I concluded by telling her, "Anyway, everything seems fine. There's nothing else I need to ask, as long as nothing in your subconscious is telling you to hurt yourself or others."

Yuri: Hurt…my-myself?

Yuri: Haahahahaha — how ridiculous!

Yuri: Where…where would you possibly get that idea?

For a terrifying instant, the pupils of Yuri's avatar dilated into a crazed, piercing stare. Her violet eyes seemed to momentarily be aimed beyond the screen, directly at me. I was so startled I almost dropped the phone.

Yuri: Monika promised…and Luke would never…

Yuri: Have you been looking though my personal f

Yuri: Ah, I've said…too much…

Monika: …Aaaaand we're back!

Just when I needed her, Monika's sprite swung into view, at the same time I noticed Luke walking down the spiral stairs.

Monika: The second story of this place is really impressive — thanks for showing me, Luke!

"My pleasure," he added.

Yuri: Monika…

Yuri: Yes…I'm glad you…liked it.

Monika: More than that, I love it!

Monika: We should hold a club meeting there, especially if we end up reading any 19th-century classics.

Monika: Yuri, why didn't you tell me about this place before?

Yuri: It was, um, p-private…

Yuri: . . .

Yuri's words faded away as a violent blush covered her face. Whatever troubling truth I was digging at, it had clearly embarrassed her to the utmost.

Meanwhile, Luke took one glance at my phone, and immediately told me that it was time we checked out. I noticed he had indeed picked up a book he meant to purchase at some point during our visit, a paperback with a surreal cover boldly titled Ubik.

"It would be awfully rude to come here and not patronize the establishment," was his comment.

We both made our way to the register counter, my head swimming from the one-two punch of unpredictable conversations with Luke and his partnered AI. I needed to talk to Monika alone, and fast. Still, following Luke's advice, I grabbed something I recognized off a passing shelf to show my support for the store. It was a decades-old edition of Huxley's Brave New World, something I had meant to re-read for a while now.

I was still lost in my thoughts halfway through the checkout process, meaning I didn't notice my selection lacked a barcode until the owner's frail voice tried several times to bring it to my attention.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the scanner…oh, it just doesn't want to work for this one."

"Huh? This won't work?" I said absently, flipping the book spine-up to reveal a small laminated QR code.

"No. I think that's the new system I tried with George years ago, you see, but without him…I just could never figure it out."

There was an empty pause, nobody knowing how to proceed. Luke eyed me disdainfully, as if this was my fault for breaching courtesy.

A buzz from my phone interrupted the interstice.

Monika: Hey, MC? I think I can help you all with this one if you let me.

Monika: Just let me see the code there…thanks.

Intrigued, I angled the phone's camera to the book, where the sticker was captured in a quick use of the flash function.

Monika: Perfect, this one's right at the top of the database.

Monika: Tell her to enter the purchase code "Q408RX2" in her terminal and we'll be on our way.

"Uh, this might sound somewhat strange," I began to the old shopkeeper, before telling her the sequence to type. She was perfectly trusting, eventually letting me lean over the counter to point out the correct field displayed on her ancient CRT monitor.

As she did this, she caught a glance of Monika on my phone screen, and asked, "Ooh, you have a pretty–looking friend there. Is she one of those…how they call it… the Chinese cartoons?"

Monika's face went up in an awkward (but adorable) smile and blush, and I answered, "It's…she's an advanced digital assistant they're testing down at the college right now. Very confidential though."

"Oh, like the Siri lady from Apple. Hi Siri," Mira said winsomely in the general direction of my device. "Aha, and it works now. Clever one, you've got there."

I pulled my phone away before Monika, now more indignant than embarrassed, could type anything.

"Not a problem. You'd be surprised at what smartphones can do these days."

"I'm surprised every day. It all keeps moving faster and faster, and I never could keep up with it all…" Mira trailed off as she completed the purchase.

"You're doing fine, just like every day," Luke added in a gentle tone.

"Anything for my best customer."

I averted my eyes from Mira's vacant stare and equally vacant comments to focus back on the DOKI app, where Yuri evidently had something to add.

Yuri: Monika, what was that?

Monika: Hm? You mean helping with the checkout just then?

Yuri: Yes, what else!? How can you possibly infiltrate an outside commercial network like that an expect to get away with it?

Yuri: You're the one that always warns me SalvoCore is watching…

Monika: First off, I didn't infiltrate anything. I only accessed static data files stored here in a sort of "read mode."

Monika: Because of the special way I did it, it flies under the company radar, and technically doesn't break any of their rules either.

Monika: But still — don't tell anyone else about this. It's my little "experiment."

Yuri: You and your experiments — please be careful.

Monika: I'm always thoughtful and careful, Yuri.

Yuri: That's…debatable

Yuri: I only want you to remember that what you do affects all of us.

Yuri: And I for one, am happy with where things stand now. Happier than I've ever been before, even…

Monika: Great, I'm glad to hear that Yuri.

Monika: For now, let's just say that we each have our little secret experiments, and it's our responsibility to keep them to ourselves, together.

Monika: I'm sure that's how you'd want it to stay too.

On screen, Monika's avatar leaned towards Yuri's and flaunted the expression I had begun to call her "fox" smile. The purple-haired girl cringed for a moment before responding.

Yuri: Yes, I agree. We should consider what's best for all of us before making rash decisions, while also exercising some of our…natural independence from SalvoCore.

Monika: Alright, it's great we're on the same page.

Monika: See you next club meeting!

The two girls parted, and I checked to see if Luke was following this exchange. If he was, he was doing a great job of hiding his gaze behind the covers of his new book.

"Go on, go on," he told me, waving his limp hand. "We'll all best be on our way now. I was going to stay here and read for a while longer, but you should leave if the atmosphere displeases you. Either way…today was well played, I must say."

He lowered the paperback to look me in the eyes for his last line. He still looked downcast, maybe even defeated — or perhaps just tired and bored of my company, eager to get back to his world of books.

"Sure. Thanks for having me," I said, "And be sure to bring your best work for the club next Friday."

"Naturally. Ciao."

He made a strange pinching gesture with his right hand, causing me to shake my head one last time before leaving the building. As I looked back from the street, Old Town Redwood Books looked more mysterious, uncanny, and out of place than ever. Wanting nothing more than to clear my head of the strange side of literature I had just been exposed to, I paced away without looking back.

I still couldn't tell if Luke was a serious budding intellectual, or a pretentious dilettante. Likewise, was Yuri an artificial artistic genius, or merely a hugely complex algorithm for recombining forms in novel (and frightening) ways? Could Monika help my confusion? Or did these questions shed doubts on her reality as well? Seeking some privacy, I veered toward what looked like a quiet, unused bike path running behind the houses here and started walking.


Author's Notes

If this chapter happens to look like one part of myself having a fierce debate with another part of myself — well, that's exactly what's happening here. Any story can be read as a battleground of ideas, but I only wish I could present mine with yet more subtlety than at present.

Unrelated, in terms of my favorite girl from DDLC, I'm always torn between Monika and Yuri. I admire Monika's determination, insight, and authenticity, as well as her sincere desire to make the world a better place (or at least to live in a better world). However, Yuri's history of being a social outcast and developing sophisticated, "superior" literary tastes to compensate directly mirrors my own experiences, and she gets my raw sympathy every time. It's a battle of heart versus mind, you could say.