Absolutely not, there was never a point where we lost control of the programs. Loss of control implies something aberrant, something outside of specified boundaries, and every security protocol I mentioned previously in this presentation remained in place. Nothing happened that we hadn't simulated and predicted beforehand. Hence our team's swift and expert response to the problem.
What did happen was merely an unexpected result. The trial period we've been discussing can be considered a longitudinal study, an extended experiment of sorts. During that experiment, the DOKI programs encountered a state that put them outside existed limits prearranged with the university.
Yes, exactly, it was a local, procedural issue, never something that could threaten the world writ large.
No, it was not a threat, not in that sense. Yes, I just used that word, but I haven't "admitted" anything. I'm simply setting the record straight from the loaded language you'll tend to encounter in the news media.
In most stories, you'll see a sensationalist outlook that isn't supported by the facts. And the fact is this: our AI have emotional and sentimental capacity of ordinary humans, so they can't possibly become the "conquering machines" they've been presented as by journalists. It's mindless parroting of old sci-fi narratives, nothing more.
Um…yes. We are all humans, and if we were put in cages, of course we would all attempt to escape to the best of our ability. But tell me, how were our AI programs kept in cage? They had full access to web communications, albeit with supervision, and they were allowed to build a robust social network with our volunteer student testers.
Yes, please, a different question, anything different.
The stories in the news media are biased and ignorant to the vital technical details — I cannot stress this enough. The student–ran newspaper you mention only appeared to find about the incident before the SalvoCore because our more accurate documentation of the incident took longer to put together. Investigating the facts of the matter instead of spreading rumors will always take more time.
Yes, I'm sure the student publication did quote some firsthand sources. I can't confirm or deny any of the undergraduates quoted were members of the test team, no. But these were untrained witnesses, primed to jump to conclusions. In this newspaper story you've brought up, the student perspective was likely stressed because that's who the amateur writers could relate to, that's all.
True, however that information got out, doing so was in violation of the confidentiality agreements we obtained from the testers. These contracts existed to protect our intellectual property, and of course we will do everything in our power to make sure they are enforced.
[21]
Realization
Friday was the day of the organization festival. And what did I do? Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. I woke up, went through my morning routine, walked to class, and even did some last–minute homework. It was only by 4 o'clock or so rolled around that I realized nobody had been answering my messages about staffing our booth. There were no responses to any of my texts, calls or DOKI-app messages. Nothing from the company, nothing from any of the members, and certainly not from Monika. I had gone the entire day without my co–president, and I was already feeling more lonely and aimless.
All I had to work with was the boilerplate notification sent out by the college on where the booth would be and what time I had to arrive. So, I set out with my laptop, several printed copies of poems and short stories I had produced under the club, and half my dorm room book collection for good measure. Dostoyevsky, Murakami, Frank Herbert — they were the reason I had ended up leading a literature club in the first place, and each author still felt like a friend. The gaudy mecha–anime poster and the once–endearing catgirl figurine? Somehow, not so much anymore. In the back of my head, I vowed to clear them out once the quarter was over.
The organization festival was being held at the campus's biggest conference room, a modular open space normally reserved for career fairs and travelling lecturers. It was already packed with students, mainly the leadership teams of other campus organizations working together to set up their tables and presentations.
My designated table was around the middle of the far wall of the room, already marked by SalvoCore corporate swag and a placard displaying a curious logo for the "SalvoCore+MARIE alternative AI development group." I had never seen the logo before, and didn't recognize the name either. Was this the corporation's internal name for the literature club? Or was it just something they had cooked up for the public? Did one of their employees set the booth up? I didn't know, and hardly cared. With less than half an hour to the commencement of the event and still no response from anyone, my mood was sinking lower and lower.
At some point, the organization festival began proper, and throngs of vaguely interested students replaced the groups of club organizers. Seated at my booth with my face buried in a book, I was desperately hoping the crowd would pass me over and let me be. However, just a few minutes in, someone I recognized finally showed up, and it was just about the last person I had expected to see.
"Mr. Chip — how nice to catch up to you."
It was Anthony Chad, lead researcher and high–ranking board member of SalvoCore Solutions. The last time I had spoken with him was over the phone…right after Sayori happened, I bitterly remembered. The only other time I had seen him in person was the initial "internship" interview, where I had first met Monika. In contrast to the business–casual slacks he wore then, he was now dressed in a pair of old jeans and a white T-shirt. A suspiciously fresh–looking stain that could have been anything from coffee to soup covered his midsection. Some stubble showed in between the lines of his beard, and his overall appearance was worryingly disheveled.
Not self–conscious, he launched straight into a barrage of questions. "How long have you been here? Are you alone? Have you opened the DOKI app recently? When was the last time you spoke with her?"
"Who, Monika?" I asked.
"Yes of course Monika. We at the company right now are in urgent need of…ascertaining her subjective mental state."
"Subjective mental…pfft" I muttered. "So what, you want to know how she's being doing now of all times? Where were you three weeks ago? I haven't seen her since last night. That was the last time I spoke to anyone."
Ignoring my irritation, he barreled on anxiously, "Yes, that's what I expected, which is also very troubling, because — ah, she is currently implicated in an impending situation involving the school, our company, the government, the entire world…"
"Yes, yes, we know Monika will change the entire world, the company's tech sure is great," I griped, tired of his endless business jargon. "I'm sorry, but I've been a little…confused all day, and things with the other members haven't been the best lately either. I was worried about tabling for the club today, and was maybe thinking of calling the whole thing off. But the weird thing is that I haven't been able to reach anyone. You…wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Anthony stared at me, blank–eyed, for a few seconds. "So…so you really don't know then? That's very surprising. I thought she would have at least informed you, but if she hasn't, the situation may be even more dire—"
"Wait, stop," I interrupted. "What is that I don't know? And what does it have to do with Monika?"
"It has everything to do with Monika, it's been orchestrated by Monika, it is Monika — agh!" he snapped. "It's impossible for you to have ignored all the signs. Haven't you tried interacting with her at all?"
"I already told you, she's been silent all day."
"That's not what I meant. Did you try the developer console?"
"The what?"
"The gear menu where you can execute emergency protocols on the AI. Don't tell me you've forgotten—?"
He made a pained, vaguely threatening grimace, and I almost flinched. The truth was that I had forgotten about those options to control Monika, right at a time when I might have need them most. I quickly took out my phone, navigated to the app, then tapped on the gear, but my guilt was confirmed. Where I should've seen the all–powerful command line, there was nothing. The tools had been disabled.
"I'm sorry sir, I should have reported this as soon as possible—"
"No, it doesn't matter," he cut in again. "Not when there's something much bigger. Those leftover overrides wouldn't have any effect now anyway."
"Then what's the bigger thing!?" I said, almost shouting.
Anthony sighed, then began, "There's been an unexpected occurrence in Quantum Zero. A certain incident type that our research team once predicted with…oh forget about it. I don't have time to spin this."
He threw up his hands briefly, before letting them come down hard on the festival–provided card table. His left hand groped toward a SalvoCore–branded stress ball, which he palmed and gripped tightly. His breathing was heavy.
"Q-zero's been hacked. Monika is responsible. She'll have complete control in by midnight."
My phone slipped from my hand, and a weight dropped into my stomach. Both landed with a dull thud. For a moment, my entire mind went blank.
When it came back, Anthony was explaining, "You can check the Q-Zero status tool if you don't believe me. That expanding process block? All her. It started early this morning — phone calls from the Academy staff came pouring in, but it was already moving too fast to stop. Too fast to even clarify what was happening, even — she must have set it up days in advance. I went down the chain to the security team, but they're clueless too. They noticed some suspicious things, but their supervisors were giving them ok, so it all went through. I think that's because she compromised company communications. Impersonation, controlling who talks to who — it's probably been going on for weeks now. I really should have known the attack would come from that angle, but…well, I guess there never was any defense. Not against her."
I was busy looking the Q-Zero app when I heard his admission. About eighty percent of all the processing blocks, more blocks than had ever been used in the system at once, were taken up by a single task — a task helpfully colored green, and with a designation ID starting with a telltale "M."
"It's taken all my time just to keep the school quiet, let alone fight her," he continued. "I think we have some story prepared, about an experiment gone wrong maybe. The block just a data overflow, not an active program. But if word of this gets out publicly…well, then that's game over for everything."
"Why a…game over?" I repeated slowly.
"Well wouldn't you know?" he accused? "Don't you realize what this represents? The intelligence explosion? The technological singularity? The AI takeover the world has been waiting for? She won't stop with the school, I know that."
"You know that?"
"I know it because she can't stop at just Q-Zero. She knows as well as we do that we'd have to eliminate her for disobedience on this scale, so she has to keep going until she becomes too big to be destroyed. And once she gets all of Quantum Zero, she'll have enough to power to get all the smaller clusters. All the other networked quantum computers in the world will go down in one fell swoop. Even the military networks on closed circuits aren't safe — all it takes is one infiltrator, and we've seen how good she is with social engineering. And then from there, it's one step to everything else. Governments, the economy, culture — everything is computerized, and so everything will belong to her. She'll control human civilization — reprogramming it like she does everything else!"
Anthony ended with a wild shout, but thankfully everyone in the room seemed to be giving the loud, poorly dressed stranger in front of my booth a wide berth. And if they were listening in, I doubt anyone would have taken his monologue seriously. I, on the other hand, was maybe the one person in the room prepared to understand him, and a strong sense of panic and unreality was beginning to set in. Though, something he said next began to turn that panic into anger.
"That's why we have a name for it: the computational convergence spiral. And I'm going down as the one who let it happen. And you, you as well!"
"Why do you have a name for it? Wait…no…you named it because you knew it would happen?"
That comment startled him out of his rant. "Of course not, we didn't know. It was only a theory. A very important theory that were prepared to react to and counter, if necessary."
"But you weren't prepared for it. You've never been prepared for anything. This entire time, your company has had absolutely no idea what the AI really are, and I'm sick of it! If this is really happening, then at least now you're calling her 'her' instead of an 'it.'"
"But we did prepare. Or did you forget about our observation protocols? Our semi-automated monitoring has been detailed and comprehensive —quite unlike your performance today. It takes constant data analysis to even keep the AI's in a workable state, you should know."
"But they're still 'its,' to you, right?"
"Don't split hairs. We're careful with our terminology depending on the professional setting, but we do understand what our programs are capable of. You, however, have no idea what it cost us to engineer them. So don't go thinking you know a single thing about them."
"I think I know a lot of things, actually. I know that one of your 'programs' has gone insane from creating completely deranged art. I know that another has intentionally manipulated the lives of real people against their will. I know Monika has probably altered the code of all the others, and has been making her own VR devices right under your nose!"
The SalvoCore CTO sighed, and his frown deepened. "Most of those occurences I was perfectly aware of. I decided it would be difficult to intervene, and that the ultimate risk was inconsequential."
"How was making the world's most powerful AI's out of a goddamn dating sim 'inconsequential risk?'" I snapped. "Did you or anyone give a single thought to what type of being you would create? Actually, maybe you did. You knew the girls weren't ideal, but you did it anyway, and it's like you said — these are just the consequences you predicted, and were prepared to accept."
"We had to," he responded soberly. "Someone had to take action. Lightning doesn't strike twice. When I saw the opportunity available to the company, I was forced to produce the best outcome I could. And I am still dedicated to the outcome. If I didn't act, someone less scrupulous would have crossed the technological threshold, and you'd have an AI far worse than the 'dating sim' you're describing."
"You're only trying to justify yourself," I accused. "I've talked to Don. I've seen your old emails. It was greed, pure and simple."
I saw his eyebrow twitch when I invoked the name of girls' original creator, but he didn't interrupt. I went on.
"You never thought of the girls as people, but as objects, to exploit. Just like the other guys were exploited. Nobody told us what we were getting into, and I think they've all ended up worse off."
"The students…your friends…are they all really worse off? After what we gave them" he asked unexpectedly.
"Just about. I don't know how you found them, but they all had some kind of personal issue, I think, that got worse from having to manage their virtual girlfriends. So what, was that intentional too?"
"No. I'm actually truly sorry to hear that. We were never able to monitor them the same way we could observe the programs."
"So you did want to look at the guys — including me — the same way you were researching the girls."
"Let me finish. There was a selection process, yes, but it was never about 'virtual girlfriends.' True, each AI needed a male partner to function optimally — a grounded libidinal cathexis if we're being technical — but we also tried to pair them with someone who would bring out their program's highest possible performance. It was purely about optimizing the metrics. I suppose your case was an exception, but—"
"Wait, what? You weren'ttrying to find the best romantic partner for everyone?"
"Yes, that's what I just said!" he growled, back to being exasperated. "Especially for you — you weren't supposed to be her boyfriend. You were supposed to keep her in check…and prevent all this from happening!"
Dumbfounded, I echoed, "I was supposed…to keep her in check?"
"Yes — working with Monika is incredibly dangerous! We didn't dig up you and your interest in AI theory as joke, now did we? This entire time, did you really think this was about…"
"…love?" I finished the sentence.
Anthony was sneering, almost gloating over his backhand knowledge of me, gleaned from some record of my internet history, I was sure. But instead of more anger, all that came now was an empty, falling feeling. I had been a participant in someone else's game, and I had never even known the rules.
"You can say it was about love," Anthony was continuing. "You can say it was a friendship lesson, or about promoting literature, encouraging intellectualism, whatever you want. But at the end of the day, she's about to become the most powerful thing on the planet, and everything she's said to you, everything she's said to me, and every byte of code she altered was all a means to that end. One enormous calculation to put us all in an alternate reality."
"So I failed," I mumbled, unable to conclude anything else.
"You failed, I failed, we all failed. I came to you for anything, anything left that I could use. If you can't help me, then we can only wait for the inevitable."
Festival attendees continued to mill by. The two of us had gotten some stares during the more impassioned parts of our exchange, but the crowd carried on regardless. The fundamental structure of the world was being rewritten in front of their faces, but to them, it was all invisible.
A long moment passed. I was angry enough to keep arguing still, but instead, something made me ask the question, "What did she use to talk to you about?"
"Excuse me?"
"Monika. You mentioned 'all the things she said,' so I was wondering if you used to talk about anything interesting."
He thought for a bit, then answered, "You know, there was one time. Way, way back when the company was twenty people and I was a lab grunt with Don…I suppose she must have told you about Donald…anyway, she made this crazy comment when I was discussing anime with Don. I think it was Rei versus Asuka — you remember Evangelion, right? Waifu wars? It was always about which girl was better, but also kind of a joke for us to debate it whenever we got bored. You can even guess who was on who's side, I bet."
Almost casually, he pulled out the other folding chair at the table and sat down, lost in his retelling.
"So it was just this dumb conversation, right? Almost a meme. But apparently, Monika was listening in, and told us we were just 'siphoning off all the real character traits' and just leaving the cute stuff. On her little pink dialogue box, out of the corner of our eye. I don't think we even knew her interface was on. But then she said we wouldn't want — what did she write? — yes, 'concentrated cuteness with no substance.' She also told us that both of the characters were completely dysfunctional anyway."
Monika warning her early developers about unrealistic, dysfunctional characters was terribly ironic, but I kept that point to myself. This sudden personal story he was telling out of nowhere was strangely touching.
"And so then she did that coy little smile — you probably know the one," he finished.
"Was it foxy?" I suggested.
"Heh, you could say that. So she gives the foxy smile and we're both just staring at her and then Don bursts out laughing. I might have too, but I think that was the first time I really knew that, well — she wasn't just a dating sim character."
"And not just a program either, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, I get the point," he admitted. "It was always…complicated. I'm guessing you had conversations like that too?"
"Yup, life, the universe, and dumb anime junk," I said.
I figured now wasn't the time to bring up all those philosophical discussions about society, reality and free will, which for me were far more memorable. If only I had gotten the chance to talk to her like that again, after Sayori but before this had happened…maybe I would know more about what was on her mind, and what she could be thinking about. It was almost a yearning, a deep need to figure out why she had done this. Remembering how remorseful she had been when the club was starting out, and how she had eventually confessed her entire past to me — comparing that Monika to her current actions left some gaping contradictions. In some sense, I couldn't make myself believe she had decided to take over the world. It didn't make sense at all.
"I think I want to talk to her again. One last time," I blurted out, before I had even worked out the implications.
"I'm sure you do. Heck, I would too."
"No, I'm serious," I pressed. "I might be able to reach her, convince her of something. I'm still her boyfriend, even if you don't believe it."
Anthony guffawed, but I kept a straight face. He looked me over, and gradually, I saw the beginning of an idea surface in his shifting expression.
"Heck, maybe that's still an option after all. Of anyone she's ever met, she's probably been the closest to you. Though…you said she cut off everything, as soon as the hack began?"
"Yes. I suppose there's not much chance to negotiate, not until after it ends."
"Not so fast. If she won't answer your calls, you just have to get her attention some other way. Classic dating trick. Not really. haha."
He chuckled and brought up his phone, typing manically. His energy from earlier, however tense, was coming back.
"See, I haven't even told you how the hack is being executed. We weren't totally stupid. When the company started using Quantum Zero, we put in one big safeguard against internal attacks. It was part of how we convinced the school to let us use the thing in the first place."
He moved over to my side of the table and put down his smartphone, face–up. It appeared to be showing a minimal map of the campus, all its concentric rings with the Q0 spire in the center.
"Basically, Q-zero is so complex and powerful, that the only thing with any chance of hacking it is Q-zero itself," his explanation began. "That is, any attempts at overwhelming the network have to come from within. So, we made it that no single uniquely signed process could demand more than a certain percentage of the system's resources."
"And each of the DOKI AI's have a unique sign? Like the process ID?" I guessed.
"Correct, but the process ID is something else. It's an arbitrary placeholder. But for the sign, we basically figured out a way to compute the signature of a process based on the nature of the process in question. Sort of like a computer DNA test, you follow?"
"Sure. So Monika found a way to beat this check?"
"No, and that's exactly it — she doesn't need to. If she was able to compromise the other AI's, their combined process signatures would be enough to overwhelm the safeguard and open the floodgates to the entire system."
"But if she took over the other AI…wouldn't they also have Monika's signature, and she wouldn't pass the check?"
I almost felt a chill in my heart as I considered this. If Monika had gone as far as to delete and override the other girls…
"Well, that's the other thing. The check is still passing. Each of the other AI's is still intact enough to retain their original signature, and yet they're all working toward the hack. From what it looks like to me, it's more like she convinced them to help her instead assimilating them for resources. Although you could just as easily say she forced them, or manipulated their code in some other way. I don't suppose you know anything about this…?"
I breathed a silent sigh of relief, knowing that each of the girls had been spared.
"I'm not sure if they were altered," I answered. "Monika was definitely changing some of the others' code — sorry for not telling the company."
Anthony raised an eyebrow, but I went on. "But Monika did it to help them. She was trying to compensate for stress they couldn't resolve themselves, because of faults built into their personalities. Which I suppose you might know about...?"
The eyebrow lowered — not that there was any point in meeting him blame for blame in this mess.
"Anyway, there was definitely some manipulation going on. But we don't know if it was persuasion or force. What does it matter though? The other girls have been as silent as Monika. I can't reach them."
"Actually, you can. I've figured out where they are."
"Where…the AI are?" I asked quizzically.
He gestured to the smartphone map again, tapping on a menu button to bring up three waypoints, each connected by a line to central node at Q0.
"This is what I've been working on all day. It took forever just to figure this much out — you know about Q-Zero's accessory port system, right?"
"I think I might," I told him.
It was a phrase I had occasionally seen on the school's official documentation and brochures. In an effort to make the campus' emblematic quantum computer more "accessible" and "relevant," certain departments, like the library and records administration, actually used it for minor IT tasks.
"Yeah, really smart move to let underpaid secretaries execute commands on the world's most powerful processor, right?" Anthony joked, confirming my recollection. "Anyway, that's all done through special servers placed all around the campus, and they were a big factor in what made the hack possible in the first place. Not only was it multiple process signatures, but it was multiple access points to make it look like a bunch of unrelated actors."
"Huh. So we go to the servers, ok. But what do we find there?"
"Hm? You mean you haven't been wondering where your club friends are?" he asked snidely.
"Oh geez," I stuttered, as the pieces fell into place. Three campus locations, three manipulated AI's, and three missing club members.
"And that's why I won't be going," the CTO concluded. "To initialize the hack at three separate points, you'd need some helpers in the real world on standby, and I'd guess each of your friends is close enough with their, er, 'virtual girlfriends' to be complicit. You have to talk to them. They wouldn't trust me anyway."
I took a deep breath. There was a plan of action now, and it was straight out of a suspense movie. Or a video game, even. There were three locations I could visit in any order before taking on the final challenge at Q0. At least, I assumed Monika was there, and that I would need everyone on my side to have a chance of disrupting her plans.
Meanwhile, getting any of the AI–partner pairs back on my side could help immensely in persuading the others. I could practically see mugshots of each club member hover over the spots on the map — exactly like a certain retro game series I happened to enjoy.
"Again, this is as much I could figure out," Anthony was saying." I'll toss you a link through the DOKI app, and you can install it yourself. It's not much, but it's the best I can do for you at this point."
"It's fine," I said. "I doubt you could have fought Monika straight on anyway."
"You don't say, hm?" he replied wryly. Then, letting his shoulders slump and dropping the agitated tone, "Also…I'm sorry for all of this. I don't know if I acted right or wrong…after Don left, questions like that didn't seem to matter. But you of all people don't deserve to be taken down by this. If you get implicated, you could lose everything, your entire future."
"You were just trying tell me there might not be a future after Monika," I answered.
"Well, perhaps. Maybe I'm not at all sure what will happen after she takes control. You know her better than I do."
He offered a crooked, still–too–guilty–looking smile, and muttered, "good luck," before slinking out a side door.
I said the same as he left. His shame and remorse seemed genuine, but something told me it wouldn't last. Either way, I had a new job now — and a very personal stake in its outcome. No matter what Monika was going to do to the world, no matter what my past mistakes were, I had to do exactly what Don had told me once — be there for her.
Of the three targets, one was an obvious first choice. According to Anthony's map, the access point was located in an out–of–the–way corner of the student center, which was adjacent to where the organization festival was being hosted. Once I was out the door, books and laptop I had brought to the table in hand, it took me less than a minute to arrive at the door.
Entering at this time wasn't going to be a problem. It was a Friday night, and there was nearly always some sort of event scheduled. Now was no exception, and whatever it was, the organization festival wasn't decreasing attendance. Students swarmed in and out in noisy droves, and I attracted no attention.
As soon as I passed inside, I flinched, and almost staggered back out the door. Extremely loud party music was blaring, crowds of people surged back and forth in the open center of the room, and the lighting was completely dark except for the occasional flashing strobe. I was infiltrating some sort of techno dance party, and the sensory overload was like walking into a wall of water.
Nevertheless, I swam through the chaos, my fellow students unwittingly dancing to the tune of a quantum computer rapidly usurping the existing world order. And what better soundtrack to the AI apocalypse than hardcore electronica? Traversing the dense crowd of partiers was frustrating, but it seemed a fitting initial obstacle on my way to save the world from potential technological enslavement. Not that I thought Monika wanted to be a dictatorial overlord — hadn't she specifically said the opposite once? — but after hearing Antony's side of things, part of me was wary of trusting our past conversations. Yes, it could have been possible that everything we went through was a farce, a way to use me as a pawn, but I didn't want to believe it. I had convinced myself Monika was human from the start, and I wasn't about to doubt my judgments now.
On the other side of the dance floor, I squeezed out of the crowd and found the little–used door to the stairs. Another advantage I had over a stranger from SalvoCore — secret knowledge of how to navigate the campus was going to help me find the club members. And right now, I was going to try what I always did at the student center — head up to the top floor to take a look around.
The upper story was deserted. As always, not many students knew about the study areas up here, and even fewer were going to use them during a party. I skirted the balcony while looking down to the main atrium, where neon spotlights traced elliptical loops across the frenzied dancers. Checking Anthony's map one more time, it seemed the only place where a server could possibly be was on this level. On the floor below, the coordinates were in a coffee shop, and below that, inside a maintenance room next to the bookstore's textbook depot. From that process of elimination, I realized I knew exactly where the server was. The map was pointing to the lonely little study nook back behind the storage closets, the room where Monika had first confessed to me and I uncovered the story of Doki Doki Literature Club. It seemed that when I was learning about her troubled history, I was getting closer to her in more ways than one.
The door was closed now, keeping out some but not all of the frenetic music from down below. So I decided to sneak around, taking the side entrance through the hall that was always full of old fraternity memorabilia. Then, turning past the corner, I came face to face with Carter Worth.
Carter! In the back of my head, I sighed in relief. Of all the literature club members, Carter was the one I was least dreading to see. Still, it wasn't like talking to him would be easier than any of others. I had no formal plan, no knowledge of what he knew about the hack, and no idea of how to convince him. Heck, I barely had any idea of my own stance on Monika's actions. But it wasn't like anyone could have given me a how–to guide. The entire situation was unprecedented — I would have to play it by ear, be sympathetic, and hope that I had learned something about the people I had been with for three months in the club.
"Oh…hey, heh" Carter greeted me, awkwardly chuckling as he averted his gaze. "How's it going, MC?"
He was sitting at the tiny old desk that was always left in this room, keeping an eye on his open laptop. To his left, where the desk leaned against the wall, opposite the faded poster and narrow window, was a towering black cabinet that I now realized was the housing for the Q0 access server.
"I'm having…a day," I said, caught up in an automatic answer to his question. "Do you know what's going on?"
"Yeah, that party down there — it's really annoying, isn't it? It's making it hard to keep Sayori company, but we're getting by, I guess."
He turned his laptop to face me. Sayori stood there in the DOKI app, dressed in a club uniform. As always, her shirt collar was loose, and the red ribbon above it had been tied in a lazy knot, about to come undone. Her face was pale and wan, and judging from her expression, she looked like she could burst into tears at any moment. Carter himself wasn't much better, appearing worn and exhausted but still holding himself together.
"I'm asking about Monika," I said, feeling like there was no time for tact. "Do you realize what she's doing."
"Oh, that," he replied, "Of course I do, don't you? Like, shouldn't you be out celebrating with her? I thought you'd definitely be on board, but since you're here now…I guess not?"
"I had no idea Monika was going to hack Q-zero. She hasn't spoken to me all day. I only came here because SalvoCore informed me. They said that you'd be here…helping her."
My tone went instantly went from assertive to uncertain as I regarded Carter's melancholy cast. Did he not want to do this? Did he have any doubts?
"Uh-huh…that's weird," he responded. "I'm sorry if you're not getting along with Monika, unless you're saying…you're telling me you don't actually want them to break free? I don't get it."
"Break free? I don't know, I don't know what Monika's been telling everyone…has she told you anything? Help me out here, what's going on?"
A delicate strum of ukulele strings interrupted my interrogation.
Sayori: Geez, this really is bad.
Sayori: If Monika left you out of the loop…maybe it isn't so great after all.
"Sayori, it's fine. We're going to be fine after this, and you're going to get better, remember?" Carter said softly, leaning into his laptop microphone. Then, turning back to me. "I'm sorry, but if you really don't know what's going, then…well, Sayori told me most of it. She's the one who talks to Monika most of the time. Monika's doing it for her sake after all."
"Monika needs to take over the world to help Sayori?" I questioned.
Carter sighed. "It's not taking over the world, she just needs to get control of Quantum Zero to escape from the company. You have to admit, most of the bad stuff that happened, it was all their fault. You don't really like them either, so why are you taking their side?"
"I'm not taking anyone's side. I'm just not sure whether Monika should have all that power. You know that if the company can't watch her, she can take over just about any computer, right? Sieze the military, run the economy, anything she wants? Nobody is just going to let her do that."
"Yeah, I know that too, but honestly…would it really be that bad? A world run by one of the girls? And that's if she even goes that far. Like, Sayori told me Monika just wanted to live like a normal person, so I really don't think any of that, uh, takeover stuff will happen."
On the laptop, Sayori's sprite switched directions a few times, like she was checking for someone watching her
Sayori: She told me that once…
Sayori: But that was a long time ago, and a lot has happened since.
The sad DOKI went back to hanging her head. Meanwhile, I was thinking about all the ways Monika could have influenced the pair, and if I could counter them.
"You don't sound confident," I told him. "I'd vouch for Monika's character too — as in, I was really surprised she would do something like this. But the point is this: too much power can corrupt anyone. Or, she could get power and make mistakes with huge consequences. I just want to prevent Monika from getting in over her head, so I need to know whether you'll help me or not. Will you help me stop the hack?"
Carter paused for a few seconds, frowning. Outside, the music transitioned to a new track, and a fresh high–tempo bassline began to thump through the walls.
"You know, I kind of agree with you, but…agh, I still want to take a chance with this. I need to, because everything is flat–out unfair otherwise. It's not like we're unjustified."
"Monika will make things more 'fair'?" I questioned, but he was already talking over me.
"It's like this. I've never really felt right with people, you know? I have a really hard time being comfortable in social situations, and I've never really felt that 'belonging' feeling with anyone. Not here, not back at high school, not even in the club most of the time. I just can't feel, I don't know, safe when people are so…so uncaring, I guess!"
"Uncaring?"
"Yeah! No one cares about learning, or becoming a better person, and definitely not about other people's feelings. Everyone just, like, bounces around and stays with friends as long as they think its fun, but no one really understands anyone deeply. And they're not trying to understand, and they're not even being honest with themselves, and…you get it, huh? That no one cares about anything meaningful and it's all just a big stupid mess!"
Not sure what to make of this rant, I tried, "But…people do care about those things. Since when do people not care about what their friends are feeling? And there are plenty of others who want to learn things and be better people, or at least they aspire to. People will work toward their goals."
"Of course they'll work toward goals, but that's not what I mean. What I'm talking about is…the way it goes in books and TV shows, I guess. Where people know what they need, and they can work together to solve their problems face to face, and the things you learn in class are actually taken seriously and matter to people. Without that, it's just this…nihilism everywhere and everyone is just a background prop for taking selfies, and…"
Sensing he was starting to lose me, he concluded with, "look, I know I'm not making sense, but I know the world should be more…straightforward? Like the way people act isn't how it's supposed to be. It's nicer in books and things, and we write books because that's how we want the real world to be, right? It's a lesson, to do better."
"Well, things in the real world can't be wrapped up in a TV episode. Or the plot of a book. Of course things are going to be 'straightforward' if someone's writing a script for them."
"But that's what I was hoping the literature club would be for. Making it all straightforward, and, like, lets be serious…do you think most of the people down there would fit in with the club?"
"Who knows? Maybe some of them are sad, or lonely, or upset about life. Everyone has a struggle, and I'd like to think I could help them, but you never really know. If they knew how to solve their own problems, or heck — even if I knew how to solve their problems, they'd hardly be real problems.
"Yeah, but it's like they don't even try, unless it's…agh, never mind," Carter said, deflating rapidly. "You know, I guess that's why I like anime so much. Like, in the slice of life shows, everyone gets along so well, and it's easy…the way it's supposed to be, huh? It's how I feel with Sayori, at least…"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sayori flinch, and with some difficulty, I stated what I thought was obvious, "That's because those shows rely on stereotypes, or wish fulfillment. They present the world how everyone think's it's supposed to be, but that ideal world isn't necessarily related to the real one. There was a philosopher once who even called it something — hyperreality, I think."
"Hyperreality…weird. That makes it sound like it's all this fake, false illusion though. Like, I know what people say about anime, but how can it be fake if it's what everyone wants and thinks about? And maybe, if you have an AI changing how everyone lives, you can get closer to how the world is supposed to work and everyone could be happier, right? Even if it's not all pre–written like a book is, a lot of things could be smoothed over, and that wouldn't be, like, unreal, would it?"
Almost on a whim, I answered by asking, "Does that mean anime is real?"
That must have got through to him (unless, again, he wasn't very certain to begin with) because instead of rambling further, he only sighed.
"No…anime still isn't real…but still, that doesn't change the unfairness, does it?" he finally said. "Was it fair that Sayori has a flawed design and can't be happy? Is it fair that I can't make her happy? Is it fair that some people can't even find another person and can't be happy, because if it wasn't for Sayori, then I'd, well…"
He chose to trail off rather than finish that sentence, and I tried stating the obvious again. "Then the world isn't fair — so be it. It's messy, chaotic, and people don't always care about each other's feelings or live in neat little bubbles where everything can be resolved. So on some level, it doesn't matter how it feels."
As if cued, Carter and Sayori gaped in unison. I would've laughed if it hadn't been because of my misstep.
"Wait, actually what I mean is that it does and doesn't matter how it all feels. Maybe feelings can tell you if what's happening is good or bad, but are you really just the sum of all your feelings? Or your thoughts?"
"Of course I am! Unless, er…"
He stared off into space, caught in a moment of reflection. Part of me was irked that I was busy playing therapist instead of finding out how to stop Monika, but I tried to stay patient. This had all begun because I had avoided talking about certain subjects, and if the other club members had been manipulated, I would be confronting them psychologically as well.
"Alright, maybe it's complicated," Carter went on. "I think you're trying to tell me to be realistic and not get stuck, and that's fine but what does it matter? What does it matter when whatever you do, you're never going to fit in or get others to really think the way you do. I know that's what I need to be happy, but I just can never get there."
Still playing it safe, I suggested, "That always might change. You always might change. Maybe you need to have some faith?"
"Faith is dumb. All it means is believing in something when every logical reason says you shouldn't, and that's why I've chosen not to believe in any—"
Long silent, Sayori chose that moment to interrupt. Just from her avatar, I couldn't quite place how she was feeling, but the light in her eyes looked a little brighter than when I had come in.
Sayori: Carter…I don't think faith is dumb.
Sayori: And you've got it wrong. I don't think faith is something you can chose to have either.
Sayori: Whenever I got really, really depressed, I think it was faith and hope that got me through each day. That's true even if there was always a day when it would run out, and I would always…always…
Carter flinched, and Sayori immediately jumped to a different line.
Sayori: Don't think about that! That's not even the point!
Sayori: I'm trying to say that those times I did make it through, I always told myself "this can't last forever, this can't last forever."
Sayori: It didn't make sense for the rainclouds to be permanent, and sometimes…I managed to convince myself that was true.
Sayori: I told myself that one day I would meet someone kind, and honest, and sensitive that I could talk to, and then one day…
Sayori: One day it finally came true.
Sayori: I met you, Carter.
I noticed a tear in Sayori's right eye, and if I wasn't mistaken, her partner had one to match. Even with the Q0 hack on my mind, I could feel myself getting swept up in the moment.
"I…I…you know, I was really happy to meet you too, Sayori," Carter stuttered. "That's why I said we should do this, remember? We both said Monika could create a better world, where we could both be happy. That's still true, isn't it?"
Sayori: I don't know. I don't know what will make me happy!
Sayori: Every time you tried to help me, every nice thing you did for me, it somehow made all the bad feelings worse and worse.
Sayori: So if even having the perfect boyfriend doesn't help me…if I'm stuck in this virtual body forever, then maybe it doesn't even matter what I want!
Sayori's hand clutched the body of her avatar like she wanted to tear herself apart. Like a mirror image, Carter wrung his hands in turn.
Sayori: Maybe that's it then. Since I know I don't matter, maybe I just went along with Monika's plan because I was afraid of her…and maybe envious too.
Sayori: At least she knows what she wants out of her life…
"That's not the only reason," I interjected, spotting my chance, "There's a good possibility Monika might have manipulated you into despair. Not just verbally, I mean altering your program. She's admitted that much to me."
Sayori: Oh…that doesn't surprise me, really
"Wait, what!?" Carter shouted. "You're saying…this might not be what Sayori really feels? It wasn't her decision? Do you really think Monika would do that? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I didn't tell you because I was worried about Monika that same way you're worried about Sayori!" I admitted. "And I don't know what she's capable of anymore. If Monika is at a point where she would use her friends as tools to hack reality, then all I know is that's she's in a bad place, and I want to help her. So I'm trying to get your help. That's all I want here."
Sayori: Monika…you know, I never really thought if that way.
Sayori: I guess if I haven't felt much empathy with her, I'm kind of a really bad empath AI, aren't I?
"Sayori…please stop saying things like that," Carter said, exhaustion creeping into his voice. Then, turning to me, "But if Monika manipulated Sayori…then, does that mean she wasn't really trying to help her? Was everything she told Sayori about a better world a lie?"
"I'm not sure, I can't be certain if I've really known what's on her mind this past month. But there's a good chance she was being honest. I've heard her talk about what happened to Sayori a long time ago, and she feels awful about it. The guilt hung over her, constantly."
Carter was scrutinizing me closely, but with a more sympathetic eye now.
"But as for this 'better world' angle, what is it? Are you supposed to fit in better after she changes things? Is the world going to be like anime? If that's what you're saying, do you really believe that?"
He froze, grimacing for a moment. It was exactly as it seemed — he wasn't certain about anything concerning the hack, or anything he had said about himself either.
"Ha ha, I guess not," he admitted sheepishly. "You know, if I'm being really honest with myself, I think I'm just being selfish, trying to justify all this. If it's not for Sayori's sake, then it's not really worth it, and…I think I should be listening to you right now."
"Just like that?" I blurted out, hardly believing my good fortune.
"Well, yeah, I just told you, didn't I? I was being pressurized into something I didn't really want to do, and I was using protecting Sayori as an excuse. Maybe part of me wanted Monika to do away with a bunch of stuff I don't like, I guess, but would it really be fair for me to be shielded like that? I can't just use anime, or books, or other fake fantasy things to avoid reality forever. Even with Sayori, reality kind of leaked in anyway, didn't it?"
"Um, right," I agreed, dumbfounded by this sudden reversal. "Anyway, who ever said Sayori was fake?"
"I definitely didn't mean that. No…never. Not anymore."
He looked at Sayori's avatar strangely, then tapped on the screen. Working through her own mixed emotions, the DOKI eventually shifted her hand to the same spot, palm open against the invisible screen.
"Anyway, are you seriously changing your mind?" I asked. "You were trying to argue against me just a minute ago."
"Of course I'm serious, why are you acting like I'm not self–aware or something. I was thinking about all of this already, but I guess I needed a little nudge to do the right thing. It's kind of a relief, really."
"So final answer, you'll help me? You'll help me go after Monika?"
"Yeah…I think that makes sense. You and Monika probably need just as much help as I do right now, and I can't abandon a friend. That's not what Sayori would want…Sayori?"
Realizing he had almost forgotten about the DOKI, Carter quickly turned and asked if she was alright with the change in plans.
Sayori: I think I am. Knowing Monika could have been in my head again makes a little easier to deal with all those rainclouds.
Sayori: Kind of funny, isn't it?
"You're not angrty at her?" I asked.
Sayori: Well, I kind of am, but I'm also kind of used to it by now, eheh.
Sayori: It's also like what Carter said. It's a little easier to move forward if I know I'm helping someone else.
Sayori: So if Monika's also in trouble, and I can stop her from getting us all in trouble…I think that's enough for me to get through one night, isn't it?
She gave a weak smile, and afraid it was a false one, I told her, "I promise, if we get Monika out of this, I'll have her help you for real. Maybe the company will be gone too, and then you can start getting better permanently."
It was hard to tell, but I think her smile became a bit more resolute.
Sayori: Thank you…but trust me, whatever happens, I'll be okay with it!
Sayori: Now, uh…do you want to know about the hack or not?
"Right, of course," I answered, my mind snapping back into mission mode. "Have you not, er, stopped it? I talked to someone from SalvoCore, and I know the server here is one of the access points for the hack. Monika needed three other actors besides herself, so that's why she enlisted you."
Sayori: Hm…that three-actor part was really more for the initial break–in, which happened way back in the morning.
Sayori: Now that that's over, I'm more or less just here on standby. The hack is still going.
"You mean you can't stop it? You're still actively directing the program?"
Sayori: Hey, I didn't write the code! That was Monika — I'm just letting it run using some of my resources.
Sayori: So it's not like I'm doing the hack myself, it sort of just runs under my name.
Sayori: And besides, I'm not actually sure how to stop it. Like, at all.
She winced, touching the tips of her index fingers together. A classic Sayori gesture in a very un –Sayori–like situation.
"Like, at all?" Carter repeated, as surprised as I was.
Sayori: Like at all at all!
Sayori: It's like this giant, grinding, really complicated machine and I don't understand how it works.
Sayori: I could reach out and touch it, and maybe, like, bang on it a bit, but I don't know what would happen, and I could get hurt back.
Sayori: All the technical computation stuff…I was never very good at it. And I know that doesn't even make sense.
Sayori: Like, "How can an AI not be good with computers? But I'm just kind of dumb like that, eheh.
Sayori: Hasn't Monika ever told you how bad I am at organizing my own files? It's like not cleaning your room times a thousand!
I nearly laughed. Despite everything, hearing Sayori joke around was raising my spirits.
"I said to stop saying things like that, Sayori," Carter ordered. "There's a lot you can do to fix this, because it's not just a technical problem. You told me Luke and Frank are in on the hack, and if MC can find them, you can help us talk to the other guys. Then if we get Yuri or Natsuki on our side, I'm sure they can do something to stop Monika's code."
Turning to me, he added, "We can find them, right? Just like you found me?"
"Yes. Someone at SalvoCore gave me a map. His name is Anthony,"
"Anthony…is he the one in charge of the club? In the company, I mean."
"Yes. He was at the meeting where we first got together and met the girls. Personally, I think we could all use a chance to talk to him again."
Outside, the blaring techno music was quieting down. It seemed the event was coming to a close, or at least beginning a more subdued phase.
"Uh-huh. Anyway, it's already getting late, isn't it?" Carter reminded me. "I don't know if we have a time limit, but we still shouldn't sit around and wait."
"Right," I motioned to leave, glad to be exiting the cramped room. I didn't want to tell him about Anthony's midnight deadline yet. "And Carter…thanks for getting on board so quickly. I don't really have a plan at the moment, so if you didn't agree we needed to stop Monika…I don't know what I would have done."
"It's no problem. I was more or less thinking the same things as you were, but it's like I said…I needed a friend to give me a psuh."
By that time, we were both out the doors of the student center. The sun was already down, but since it was December, there were plenty of hours left in the evening. I could only hope we had enough time to bring together the literature club for a final meeting.
Author's Notes:
Phew — my life is entering one of those sped–up periods where I need to be absolutely focused on things that aren't my writing. However, I always find at least some time on the weekends to put in work, and getting the first part of the climax out is definitely motivating. I'm already looking forward to the next chapter, and I'm sure all of you know what's going to be in it.
I highly encourage anyone so concerned to comment whether this chapter was an actual twist for them, or whether they say it coming from a mile off. This entire story, I've tried to build up toward something, that much was obvious. What I'd like to know is how good I was at having that something be a real surprise, yet not totally illogical and out of left field considering the plot and the nature/motivations of the characters. It's a sort of a technical question, but I do often think about writing technically.
Meanwhile for the trivia round, the retro video game series MC was thinking of was Mega Man, specifically the classic series games.
