No, we did not try "communicating" with the AI on the night of the incident. It was in a completely aberrant state, any negotiation would have been futile.

…any negotiation would not have made sense, to be more precise.

Why would this contradict our official documentation? I suppose terminology for communication and interaction comes up frequently, but that's all marketing, meaning little. You must understand the nature of branding…

...ahem, sorry to confuse, but what I really meant of course is that we "communicate" with our AI in the sense that through research and development, we learn new methods of implementing their abilities, which is how we can grow as a company.

Correct, you can see it as a more "give and take" type of exchange, more of a symbiosis than negotiation. Technology is the "core" of SalvoCore, and SalvoCore exists for the good of our technology.

Now, before any more clarifications are needed, on to the next person in line, close to the back…

The "complications," in your words, of communicating in this way with a "superintelligent" being…I see we're back to AI risk yet again.

Yes, we have stated the DOKI's are orders of magnitude more intelligent than a human, but within their operational space, they were hardly capable of anything we couldn't anticipate. Constant human monitoring, real–time logs of all data, it was a system engineered for perfect understanding.

I think your implication here is that we were somehow manipulated by the feedback, being controlled by the AI programs at the same time we controlled them. A two–way street, a double–edged sword, yes, those are interesting…analogies, but hardly relevant to everyone's questions about the Q0 incident.

Yes, if our response had been "planned" by the AI, we would have identified it. We saw all the data, and so we had the power to determine the ultimate outcome. If you completely understand something, you can control it absolutely…


[23]

Immanentization


"So here we are, eh?"

Frank knocked on the side of the MARIE library's concrete–slab exterior with his knuckles. Slight as it was, the sound echoed across the ghostly grounds of the empty avenue. We were at the foot of the building's northern flank, beneath massive prism of glass windows swimming with ripples from the night's stray reflections. Routes were more frequented here, closer to the campus center, but even with the odd stray student crossing in the distance, everything was dead quiet.

"Yeah, but Luke doesn't want to let us in, I guess."

Carter ran his hand over the automatic sliding doors, probably thinking of whether we could forcefully pry them open or not. The library would soon begin hosting late–night study hours to help students prepare for finals, but not until next week. I wasn't expecting to see anyone inside, but anybody, even an unknowing janitor or volunteer shelver, would be someone that could help us enter.

"Getting inside the PUAB was trivial. What's the problem here?" I said, holding up my phone. Despite leading the human side of our party, the AI's weren't always keeping me in the loop.

Natsuki: You guys popped the lock on that building because I let you. I didn't really think it mattered one way or another whether you got in…

Natsuki: But for this one, Yuri's actually paying attention.

"She's what, counter–hacking you?"

Natsuki: Sort of. She's basically holding her finger down on the spot in the key card database that we need. Using loads of redundant security too.

Natsuki: She definitely doesn't want anyone wandering around in here until it's all over.

"And we can't wait for that," I confirmed. "So are you sure there's no way to brute–force security? We have Sayori, that makes it two versus one, right?"

Natsuki: sigh…it doesn't work like that.

Natsuki: Yuri established her connection first, so I'd have to uproot all her access points and jam them, one at a time.

Natsuki: Thing is, she can make new access points faster than I can find them, even with Sayori helping, so long story short — no.

"It's like fence–post security then, huh?" Carter commented from over my shoulder.

"Fence–what?"

"Fence–post security. It's like someone building a wall made of really tall poles in the middle of the desert. As in, really tall poles, past the point where anyone could ever climb them. But no matter how tall the poles get, you can always just walk around because it's in the middle of a desert. You'd have to be crazy to try and get over the wall directly, but since you don't even have to, it was kind of just a lot of wasted effort from whoever built the fence, you know?"

"Pole–desert…huh?" I mumbled, trying to piece together Carter's ramble.

Natsuki: Oh, walk around the problem? That'd be a great solution if we were actually in a desert

Natsuki: But there's not really such a thing as space in terms of computer networks, so forget about "walking" anywhere.

Natsuki: Honestly, you spend way too much time around Sayori for your own good…

Sayori: Hey! All he's saying is to back off and look at different ways to solve the problem.

Natsuki: Sayori! Uh, I didn't mean that just then…

Natsuki: I swear I'm still too on edge for this.

Ignoring her fellow AI's many flustered faces, Sayori continued explaining her point.

Sayori: You're fine, you're fine — Really!

Sayori: So we have this problem that's like an impossibly big wall, okay? We're saying you shouldn't even try and climb it.

Sayori: You have to continue your path but on a different route…like tunneling under it.

Natsuki: I thought this was about walking around the wall.

Sayori: That can work too! See, look, the data flow goes through like this...and this…and if we give this part that pointer to work with, we can just make a new stream that goes past the wall!

A few cryptic instructions passed through the usual gray terminal box in the corner of the DOKI app. Natsuki reacted by first going wide–eyed, then sulky and red–faced.

Natsuki: Oh my god, I'm such an idiot.

Natsuki: We can just intercept an earlier part of the backend code and give it a fake copy of the entire database.

Natsuki: And since we can make a whole mimic database in a snap, it's not like passing the integrity checks would even be a problem. Wow.

Sayori: Wait, wha–? That's really the answer?

Natsuki: Of course! You know for, all I go on about predictions, sometimes I'm really bad at thinking like an AI…

Sayori: Oh…well then, I think you just need to think like you and we'll be okey-dokey!

Sayori: Anyway…will this work?

Natsuki: Hm. You might want to re–order some of the tables to get a better chance at passing the checkpoints—

Sayori: Oh. I was just going to skip all that by putting the link in, I don't know, here?

Natsuki: Aha, that's even better! There's an asynchronous call that will give us all the time we need. Now then…

Before I could approve or object, lines of code started flying back and forth between the two AI's, ending with a sudden swoosh sound from the doors behind me.

"Ah, there we go," Frank was saying. "Took a while, but I finally pulled those doors open. Dunno what you guys were trying over here, but sometimes you just need a little brute force, eh?"

"More like the opposite," Carter quipped. He was standing off to the side of the entrance, holding his ID card up to the reader with a smile.

"Wait, don't tell me you all figured something out without me? Man…whatever though. Doesn't matter how we get through."

Frank stepped over the threshold, planting his foot down to block the left door from sliding back.

"I'm just glad this isn't turning into a wash before it even begins, eh?"

All three of us took the chance to hurry though the doors, stepping into the capacious darkness on the other side. The library's famous open promenade, this room would normally be bustling with life as students passed from one side of the building to the other on their daily campus commutes. Now, it was still and lifeless as a mausoleum. The hanging glass fixtures and tall sun windows leered down at us from above, cold and icy in the shadows.

As if by instict, Frank and Carter gathered behind me, and I wasted no time in leading them to the foot of the main library tower, where the building extended all the way up to the eighth floor study room. Out of all the potential nooks and niches in here, I was sure Luke vanity would lead him to occupy the ever–popular "penthouse" room. If not…well, there were still at least three hours to search before the midnight deadline.

"So, uh, good job on that hack, Nat," Frank said offhand, the silence clearly bothering him.

Natsuki: Sure, yeah. Good job me...

I thought of correcting him, but reconsidered when I saw Natsuki's glum expression. Fortunately, Sayori was already on the case.

Sayori: Hey, Natsuki…are you feeling okay?

Natsuki: No. Should I be? Who even cares?

Natsuki: I already said I was on edge ever since we left the PUAB, didn't I?

Sayori: Uh–huh. You also said some pretty scary things back there too.

Natsuki: Like what? You mean the whole "I'm not sure my identity is real" rant?

Natsuki: That's not even a real problem compared to what some of us are dealing with. Am I wrong?

Natsuki eyed Sayori, who reacted with a momentary downturned glance. Still, the empath DOKI carried on.

Sayori: If it feels like a real problem, it is a real problem.

Sayori: I just want you to know that I think about those things too, but focusing on happy thoughts almost always gets me out of it!

Natsuki: Happy thoughts, huh?

Sayori: Of course! You don't think everything in my head is a raincloud, do you?

Natsuki: No, but—

Sayori: Everyone has happy thoughts! And it's okay if yours come from manga, and cute things, and watching those super–long video game streams with Frank, and—

Natsuki: Alright, alright, I'll be more positive in the future, okay?

Sayori: I'm not ordering you to do anything!

Sayori: I'm just saying that all us AI girls are in this together, and we should share how we each deal with the whole "live inside a computer thing", you know?

Natsuki: Oh. That's all.

Natsuki: In that case, you do have a point.

Natsuki: With all this existential confusion garbage we have to deal with…I almost don't blame Monika for cracking like she did. Back then, or now.

Sayori: I know, and I hope we can all help Monika too at the end of all this!

Natsuki: Sure. I wish we could help her too.

Natsuki: . . .

Natsuki: So…yeah. Don't worry about me and my identity! It's the only one I've got.

Natsuki: If I'm going to like cute things forever, that's fine and I'll stick with it!

Sayori giggled, filling the silent library with a fluttering ukulele melody. Somehow, that got Natsuki to smile, and she joined in with some staccato recorder notes.

It was almost like one of the better moments from the early weeks of the club, I was thinking until a screen to my left suddenly flashed to life. We were walking through one of the open study areas right before the elevators, and even though it was just one monitor activating out of dozens, the light was still enough to blind me for a moment.

When my eyes had adjusted, I saw an image of Luke. It seemed the computer was displaying live video of him, sitting on a high–backed reading chair in the penthouse study room, just as I had predicted. He also happened to be wearing his "dandy" outfit from the Halloween party, complete with white gloves, black cravat and silver–tipped cane. His initial bearing was straight–backed and stately, an imitation of nobility, but as soon as he saw who he was dealing with, he crossed his right leg and settled into a distinctly more insouciant pose.

"Ah, now this is an unexpected surprise," he began. "The full roster of the illustrious literature club has ventured to our doorstop, pleading an audience for purposes unknown. What–ever could this be, hmhm?"

"We've come here to…stop…you…" Carter waveringly announced. Unlike the prior proclamation to Frank, he trailed off the instant he saw Luke's trademark smirk. I sympathized. There was something in the would–be decadent's expression, an instability that threatened to turn that smirk into a sneer, that made him seem more volatile than ever.

"Stop me? Stop us? Stop the inevitable? Do you even comprehend the profound ignorance your statement? Absurd, utterly absurd," he mocked. "I can understand the freshman embarking on a fool's errand, but the presence of the rest…really now, why are you all here?"

Wasting no time, I told him, "We know about the hack. I figured out what Monika is doing thanks to SalvoCore, and I started rounding everyone up right afterwards. We all think what she's doing isn't exactly right, and the best chance we have at stopping her is to force her to negotiate with us — us three and the AI's. Sayori and Natsuki changed their minds after I told them what was really happening. We have their support. We'd like to get yours — Yuri's as well."

I looked around the room for other live monitors where Yuri could be lurking, but only the one workstation was lit. It was awkward to crowd around it with the others, but at least its speakers microphone seemed to have a good range.

"No need to hunt for my beloved queen — she comes and goes as she wills now," Luke said, noticing my shifting glance. "Regardless, your offer is so misguided I don't even know how to decline. Not even wrong, that's how I'd describe it. And to think that the entire club body would turn against my genius — well, perhaps that was inevitable. We never had much of an understanding to begin with, did we?"

"Eh, we knew exactly what you were all about. So cut the crap already," objected Frank. "Are you going to stop spouting BS, or do we have to come up there and beat it into you?"

"With friendship!" Carter interjected. "We're going to beat— I mean, talk it into you with friendship, so you're not corrupted anymore."

"Yeah, talk. That's what I meant." Frank muttered.

"Corruption…" Luke drawled in the meantime. "What do any of you know of corruption? Of possession? Of the soul–crushing knowledge I now wield openly? My — and perhaps ours — all of our deepest, most twisted, um, twists are about to become, hmhm…un–twisted."

I sighed. Frank guffawed. Only Carter seemed to be taking him even somewhat seriously.

"I…see," I began unconvincingly. "That's nice, I'm sure, but not what we're here for. Maybe if we could just talk to Yuri…

"I have nothing to fear from you!" Luke suddenly shouted. "You are all fools, cowards who cannot seize the destiny lying within their grasp. Perhaps I shall seize it for you, instruct you all in the new law of the world."

The screen shuddered, lined of pixels flashing and blinking in and out of flickering static. Then, with some apparent difficulty, Natsuki's sprite blinked onto the screen, overlaid over the lower-left corner.

Natsuki: Ugh, took forever to tap in through here

Natsuki: Anyway, FYI dandy boy, Monika's the one taking over the world. not Yuri.

Natsuki: So why are you pretending to call the shots here?

"Hmph. That may be true nominally, but our Monika is merely a typical vulgar materialist. In her lust for an optimized society, she has betrayed the true matter and sustenance and life given to me and my own counterpart — that is, art, culture…no, beyond that. She has given to us the omnipotent superluminal chaos that is the prefiguration of the human mind!"

I frowned conspicuously, wondering if I ought to role my eyes. In response, he called me out, saying, "And you, our once and future leader, you should be with her, no? I once gauged your depths and found them lacking. The pedestrian and worldly is the domain of you both, so why are you not with her as a celebrant of the new order? Your presence here…continues to perplex me."

"Monika shouldn't have that much power, material world or whatever else. Nobody should. It would…crush them," I replied. "Beyond that, the only thing I want to do is talk to her. If we come to an understanding, I'm sure we can find a compromise that will fulfill her goals without acting so drastically."

"Ha — we've already established my will surpasses your understanding. And if you had Monika, you may have threatened me, but with only the two weakest, most frivolous of our club's cybernetic simulacra in your hand, I'm afraid there's little more to discuss. Elementary crowd manipulation and 'emotions', honestly — what were those corporate peons thinking?"

I saw Carter begin to make a move, but Sayori popped up on screen to beat him to it.

Sayori: No…I'm not weak!

Sayori: I'll show you what "emotions" can do — I'm going to walk up to Yuri, right now, and take all that hurt and pain away from her.

Sayori: I'll beat it out of her if I have to.

"With friendship!" Carter quickly corrected

Sayori: That's what I meant!

Clearly unpleased by the pair's flavor of banter, Luke rapped his cane against the floor of the penthouse with an audible thump. Meanwhile, I was grateful for the dose of levity. Not taking Luke seriously was the only defense I had against his disturbing obsessions. However, those thankfully only seemed to surface when Yuri was around — which is why I flinched when she finally decided to materialize on the display.

"You should be careful of whom you speak ill of," Luke commented before bowing to the side of his girlfriend's image.

Yuri: Indeed. It seems my dearest friends have been…disparaging me in my absence.

Yuri: And how rude of them to interfere during such a portentous moment…this most prophesized of nights.

There were no signs of glitches or distortion in either Yuri's text or her tall figure. However, she glared at the other girls with one manic, unblinking eye, the other hidden behind her violet bangs. Her leering smile, hanging slightly agape, suggested any number of things, none of which I wanted to guess at.

Sayori: Yuri! We're here to help you, alright?

Sayori: I've heard about all the nasty shadows crawling in your head from Natsuki, and we're going to knock them out!

Natsuki: Yeah…what she said…

Natsuki's worried expression hardly gave backing to Sayori's assertion. Not that Yuri seemed in a state to take either of them seriously.

Yuri: Yes, I shall certainly warning from the empty–headed cupcake girl, who hides her rotten heart behind a mindless, mass–produced farce of personality.

Yuri: and there is also the lost forlorn maiden who whispers in the myst for the long–lost lover who never comes. Fade away and dissolve thyself in the embers of thine beauty where palsy grows pale and youth shakes spectere–thin, and dies. Darkling I listen to thee cease upon midnight with no pain; no hungry generations charm'd magic casements upon thy faery seas. The very world is like a bell! But in embalmed darkness I call soft names to the coming violets cover'd up in leaves. Do I wake or do I sleep? Was mine a vision, or a walking dream…

An entire, semi–garbled romantic–style poem overflowed Yuri's text box up to the top of the screen until she seemed to collect herself again.

Yuri: Ahem…excuse me.

Yuri: It can be difficult to restrain my abilities in my ascended state.

Natsuki: Ascended? Your program's a corrupted mess and that's what you're calling it?

Natsuki: Can you get real for five seconds and let us help you?

Natsuki: …I'll even let that cupcake line slide, for now.

Instead of softening, Yuri's discomforting smile turned wild and unhinged, like she was about to lash out, but just for a moment.

Yuri: Aha…ahahahaha!

Yuri: You…both of you…I've evolved far past your limited understanding, and you still converse as if we were equals.

Yuri: How…how unnnnnnNNNNNNNNNNNN######################

Yuri: ########################################################

Yuri: ########(Miserable/Atrocious/Merciful/Excruciating). For you not to be similarly graced by the [Error 263 BAD ALLOC (too much recursion)] within me.

"You know, I think I've had just about enough of this stupid 'transcendence' business," Frank interrupted. Between, him, Carter and I, he was the only one who didn't seemed immune to Yuri's discomfiting demeanor.

"So can we quit the bad acting and go back to real talk?"

"On the contrary, perhaps I will show you just how 'real' this transcendence is," Luke countered. Yuri…would you like to show them our gallery? Shall we give them an early preview of the divine madness of the world to come?"

Yuri: Oh, what a wonderful idea!

Yuri's avatar hopped to attention, her hair flipping back to expose her other eye, both locked into that awful, too–intense stare. Grinning like a small child and clapping her hands together, she wrote:

Yuri: I'd love to show everyone what I've been working on.

Yuri: It;s always be a_dre m of min to mmmake#$%#ome#hi-g sp&cialo#t of t_&thi$#s I;;love.

Yuri: Now behold my essence…thought beyond thought, desire beyond desire, pure cybernetic instrumentality free from [an exception occurred object PSYCH-TYPE-LIB could not be decoded]

Yuri: I no longer need any of you~

From nowhere, Yuri suddenly brandished a knife. The avatars of Sayori and Natsuki shrunk backwards, but instead of threatening them, Yuri plunged the blade into her own stomach. Again and again, she stabbed her chest and abdomen, sending dark rivulets of blood coruscating through the tears in her uniform. Her face was locked in a rictus of either agony or euphoria — I couldn't tell.

Suddenly, before the other two girls could do anything to respond, her entire body erupted into a cloud of glitched pixels, which then dissolved into a fluid miasma of crimson and dark magenta. I saw hints of livid, bloodshot eyes and gnashing, vicious mouths in the amorphous mass, then it disappeared, with the faintest hint of a girlish giggle sounding in its wake.

We were all speechless for at least five seconds. Then, Frank commented, "Well, it looks like that overblown cutscene is over, so—"

Cutting him off with a cacophony of screeching string instruments, every monitor in the room surged to life. Each one bore a fresh visual horror, mainly in human bodies mangled and distorted into fantastic, almost inorganic–looking forms. Grasping arms with tendons turned to wires, walls made of fused torsos, highways of blood traversed by pulsating, womb–like corpuscles…I didn't want to look closer to see what else they contained. All I knew is that it seemed like the worst of what I had seen from Yuri's portfolio at bookstore, combined with structural, organic–mechanism motifs of the rooftop meeting.

"Oh, and that's not going to work," Luke taunted, responding to Carter, who had ran off and was now frantically jamming his fingers against the nearby elevator buttons. "You'll be stuck down there forever, reliving the nightmare of being until the world's transformation is complete. Aha..ahaha…ha…ha."

Springing to his feet and sweeping his cane in an arc, Luke gave his best attempt at an evil laugh, before apparently thinking better of it and skuttling out from view.

"Well heck, forget what I said about this being easy," Frank assessed. "That's about as hard as a no I think we're going to get. What now, boss?"

"We can still take the stairs. Most of those doors aren't electronically controlled like the elevators," I answered, trying to keep focused under the onslaught of unsettling imagery. "There should be a path from here to the fourth floor, then straight up to the top."

"Alright, cool. We'll still get to personally thank him for this crazy haunted house show. Yo, Carter—"

He called to the freshman, who had become transfixed by one screen showing a weeping female figure inverted and bound to a post, forced to drown herself in the flood of her own blood–soaked tears.

"—don't chicken out now, okay?"

"Uh, right," he responded, wrenching himself away after taking a deep breath. "They're just screens, so as long as we don't look at them, we're fine."

"That's right," I said, forcing myself to keep my own attention away from the displays. "Nobody ever said you had to look at the screens."


Just as I remembered from my many aimless walks through the library, there was a little-used staircase that connected the first through fourth floors in the back of the east wing. Spiraling around a triangular shaft, it was unique for using long, orange–painted lengths of leftover steel rebar to keep people from falling rather than a traditional guardrail. The rebar was stretched tight enough that pulling at it would produce low, bassy notes that reverberated throughout the space. Not that there was any time to mess around with that tonight, of course. It just ran through my mind as we all climbed the stairs, my brain probably trying to harken back to simpler times in the midst of a crisis. Frank and Carter were silent as well, focused on moving.

Once we hit the fourth floor, we had to cross a huge, high–vaulted room with a ceiling full of long skylights. During the mornings, it functioned as a giant sunroom of sorts, casting sheets of light down onto the stacks beneath. Now though, at the risk of sounding repetitive, it was lonely, dark and lifeless. That is, except for the workstation monitors strategically placed around some of the tables, which lit up with more of Yuri's phantasmagorical horrors as we passed. She must still have been watching us from cameras hidden somewhere in the alcoves — not that her efforts really impeded our progress.

Still, I asked Frank, "Hey, how is it you're keeping your cool in all of this? It's like you don't find Luke off–putting at all."

"Eh? Naw, all this crap he's doing is just as freaky for me as I bet it is for the rest of you."

"Oh. Then you're definitely keeping your cool in front of him, at least."

"Hm? Since when is Luke the scary part?"

"Huh?"

"You mean you can't see through him?" he said, raising his voice despite being slightly out of breath from dashing up the stairs. "I told you before, this is all one big messed–up game to him, and once we shake him around and show we're not playing, he'll snap out of it."

"Oh. You mean that if we don't cooperate in putting on the scenario he imagines for himself, he'll…what? Give up and fall in line?"

"Heck if I know exactly. I just know that taking a break from all of this would be good for him, eh? If he comes back down to earth a little…like, no matter what happens with this whole Monika deal, we can at least have him spitballing around the club again, you know? I can reintroduce him to Nat — the four of us almost had a thing going on before, huh?"

"Yuri too?" I suggested.

"Yeah. I was only just getting to know her. Not my type, but if you're into emo goth girls, like, holy crap."

He turned his head, and I wasn't sure whether he was reflecting on Yuri's character, or a snippet of conversation from one of the screens. Flitting in and out of the displays as Yuri activated them, Sayori and Yuri seemed to be engaged in a broken dialogue with the mad artist.

Natsuki: Yuri! How many times do we have to tell you that we're trying to help!?

Yuri: I don't need help.

Yuri: I am already [dialog_iterator([perfect/invincible/beautiful/incarnate]);_#%&*####

Yuri: Far more than any of you could ever be.

Natsuki: God damn it, you still take everything as personal threat, don't you?

Yuri: I am not afraid.

Sayori: It's okay if you're afraid, Yuri!

Sayori: Just tell yourself it's going to be alright, everything will be okay, and we can all calm down…

For an instant, Yuri reacted to the empath DOKI with startled sympathy, a note of concern that seemed to reckon back to her initial, shy personality. But then the crazed wolf–smile came back, and screeching, tortured violins and cellos followed us all the way to the central stairs.

From there, it was a quick and blessedly quiet climb up to the eighth story. Once at the top, we wasted no time. I stepped forward to throw open the door, and Luke barely had time to throw himself into his makeshift throne before we all entered the penthouse study room. It seemed he had been pacing nervously, and he noticeably took a moment to compose the disinterested, flippant façade he bore earlier.

"Don't come any closer," he postured, pointing the head of his gentleman's cane at each of us in turn. "You may have braved our menagerie, which is indeed still a work in progress, but this encounter is far from over. Don't think you've won anything from me yet!"

"Won anything…" I repeated. "Look, can you just relax a bit? We're not trying to take anything from you, so maybe if you could just explain what it is you want, we could get somewhere. As in, what do you think you're getting from this hack?"

"Hmph. The answer has already been stated. Inheritance of the world's cultural–intellectual mantle and full authority as to the new genesis of the world–spirit upon immanentization of the post–human advent."

"Uh–huh. So you're saying you'll be controlling the direction of art and media…in the weird new world that Monika is going to create? Is that right?" I reiterated, carefully parsing his obtuse language."

"In pedestrian terminology…perhaps."

"Well, if you just wanted to make art, you were already doing that in the club. Why do you want Monika to take over at the same time?" I questioned, exasperated. Noticing another malevolent mosaic beginning to materialize on Luke's laptop, lying open and in arm's reach from the borrowed reading chair, I added, "And why does your new culture, if that's what it is, look so…hellish?"

"You could not possibly comprehend. If none of you have learned by now, there's hardly any hope left. Once predetermined by a pure artificial ego, unbound by the laws of nature, the qualia of being will advance beyond the boundaries of human perception. I simply want all to embrace this fundamental truth. In that sense, I am a simple messenger, nothing more."

"Oh, so now you're not in control? You're acting like nothing can stop Monika from taking over, but that's not even true. We're changing her plans right now, all of us. You could have a say in the outcome too, if you stop enabling her."

I looked back to Frank, hoping for some support, but the junior had no comment. Seated in a spare chair with his arms folded, he seemed to be trying to wear down Luke with the sheer force of his deadpan expression. Considering how Luke seemed to be avoiding eye contact with him at all costs, even as his gaze anxiously darted about the room, perhaps his strategy was working better than mine.

It was Carter who spoke next instead. "Luke, if all your art is so…dark and vicious like this, I don't think it will really inspire people and 'inherit the cultural mantle,' or whatever you said. They'll just look away. Like, I don't even think Monika would let you show this stuff if she's the one running the world."

"Irrelevant," he dismissed. "Eventually, I will make them receptive, if they choose to avert their eyes at first glance. Any and all manipulations are possible over time."

"Oh…then you're going to act like this shadowy guy behind the scenes, trying to move people like puppets until they're just how you like? That sounds…pretty lonely, I guess."

"Yes, but…hm…" Luke hesitated. "Loneliness is surely no hindrance to a sufficiently mastered mind. I have nothing to fear from solitude."

"Really? Even though it sounds like you'll have to work by yourself?"

"Well surely I will groom and locate various advisors, confederates, collaborators…"

"But don't you have that already? With us?"

"These people would be perfectly selected. Ideal!" Luke snapped.

"If they're a nothing but a bunch of yes–men, it will still be lonely," I jumped in, sensing an opportunity. "Even if you somehow get to control everything that you want, being a lone dictator would still be isolating. You put everyone beneath you, and suddenly you can't trust anyone. That's a part of what I want to save Monika from!"

Luke gave me an odd look along with the rest of the room as I realized my own thoughts had leaked into my argument. It was true though — as long as Monika saw herself as the final determinant, the only self –aware mind on her level of existence, she would be lonely. And somehow, the thought of saving her from that fate seemed more real than the notion of saving the entire world.

"What I mean is, putting yourself at the top will isolate you forever. Is that what you want?"

Grimacing, Luke groped for words while fidgeting with his cane, nearly dropping before he spoke. "It is no matter…I can…Undoubtedly…we have always been alone."

"Huh?"

"I have always been alone!" he repeated. "For someone of my type, loneliness is natural and expected. It is the price one pays for true knowledge"

"Sure. And does your 'type' also give you the right to wield unlimited power? Do you think that makes you deserve it, somehow?"

"Who deserves what is meaningless. We are a superior breed! This plebian morality, this kindergarten politics you assault me with means nothing, nothing at all!"

I didn't press further. My probing was making him increasingly agitated, but also more defensive. At a loss, I glanced to the open laptop. From the duet of strained string instruments emanating from the microphone, it seemed Sayori had caught back up to Yuri.

Sayori: Yuri…I hate to bring this up, but things are getting really serious!

Sayori: If this all started with the cutting and your knives, it's ok — you don't need to hide it anymore.

Sayori: Like we've all done some crazy stuff to cope with being and AI, so we're not going to judge, I promise.

Sayori: But if the cutting is hurting you, or if it has to do with how you're making everything so scary, I can try to help. Natsuki too!

Yuri's sprite froze, oscillating between a number of confused emotions. Literally — it was like the pixels on her face were on a random roulette with all the expressions in her repertoire. Most of the combinations didn't even make any sense. It took at least five seconds for her to settle on a single reaction, which to my and Sayori's horror, was manic rage.

Yuri: You…you dare to think you know anything about me, the excruciating [99x9464964#####] Ihave had to bear.

Yuri: Perhaps if only you could see yourself…past your own meager "emotions."

Yuri: mAYBE iT wOULD bE gOOD fOR yOU =) =) =) !-1!

Without warning, the knife appeared in Yuri's hand, and she slashed toward Sayori's avatar. A wave of graphical distortion erupted across the window, which would've swallowed Sayori had she not been pulled aside by Natsuki at the last moment.

Natsuki: Alright, you just attacked maybe the last person who could have talked you out of this.

Natsuki: That crosses a line — so I'll stop holding back too.

Yuri: Hold back? If you think you can actually—

Yuri: ######'uri, the 'imid ''d 'ysteri''; one wh;''i;'s'c;'f'rt'i' 'h; '''l' of'b'oks'u;i,'t;e timid 'nd m'''erio;s o'e ''; finds comf'rt in the w'rl' 'f book'Yuri, th; ;imid 'nd m'ster'o'' one w'o';''ds;comfor;;in'th' wor;d'of 'oo'sY;;i, ;;e ti'id'a'' myst'rio's ;n; wh;'f;nds ;om'ort'in';'e w'r'd of bo;ksYur', t'e'timid an''m;'''rio;s on''who ;in;s 'omf'rt in ''e '';ld'of ';oks…

Yuri's sprite went into a generic pose with a blank expression. Meanwhile her text box was stuck scrolling through some sort of fragmentary, repeated sentence. The terms default and placeholder flashed through my mind.

"Y-Yuri!? What are you doing to her?" Luke yelped.

Natsuki: Nothing worse than what she's already done to herself.

Natsuki: I hit her factory reset button, basically. It's a simple cache–clearing thing. The company built it into all of us back in the testing days.

Luke gasped, and with genuine concern, demanded, "You mean her personality, her precious memories…gone, like nothing?"

Natsuki: Of course not, you dummy! Emotional memory is on the level of .chr manipulation, and no way am I stooping to that.

Natsuki: This was more like…I don't know, dumping a bucket of ice water on her head. She'll reboot soon.

At that point, the garbled placeholder text in Yuri's window had been exhausted, and her text box was left as empty as her expression.

"And without even fighting back…" Luke was muttering.

Natsuki: Well it's not like doing that was hard, with how many holes she was leaving in her system…

Natsuki: It was the only thing I could think of to break her out of this trance.

"The trance, yes…"

For a second, I saw Luke wince as he regarded Yuri's deactivated state. But, when he whirled back around to face us, he attacked with renewed fury.

"This changes nothing! Only a temporary setback — she shall soon revive anew and end this hopeless mass charade. And I highly doubt she'll be as kind."

"Luke, please," I said, trying one last time. "Yuri isn't infallible, and neither are you."

"But in our new world, in our vision, perhaps we shall be."

I sighed. "Hardly. If we've seen anything tonight, it's that neither of you are stable like this. So can you at least agree to stop the hack and leave us be?"

"Never — there is no choice. I have tasted blood and now must walk this path to its ultimate end. Amor fati — I embrace my fate."

While I tilted my head at the philosophical misappropriation, Carter asked innocently, "If you're not going to stop then, can you at least tell Yuri to stop, um…cutting as much? I don't want Sayori to get slashed at again."

"Impossible!" Luke shouted, rising with a stamp of his foot. "If you grasped anything of the nature of that holy instrument, you would cower, tremble in the winds of the abyss, for our kindred bond has sharpened to the point that…er, the edge of…an entire…um…"

He trailed off, and I thought I heard him murmur, "the puns are not intended, of course," before blurting out, "Of course! I can always demonstrate my devotion!"

To my freshly renewed horror, he reached somewhere into his inner lapel and produced an ornate handle made of polished dark wood and shining silver, decorated with countless minute engravings. Then I heard a click, and an impressive five–inch cutting edge slid out from one end. A switchblade. Casually, Luke flipped it in his hand and held it point–first toward us, index finger resting on the metal's base. Instinctively, I took a step back. Carter took two. And from somewhere behind me, I heard Frank's dismissive scoff.

"Indeed, I believe our dear Michael is already fortunate enough to know this secret, but when I learned of her so–called affliction, her mental illness…"

Luke spat out the term with such strong distaste I almost thought he was choking.

"…it was the most precious, irreplaceable moment between us. When she realized I would not only accept her little habit, but embrace it, she was so…she was so…she was so…"

Luke absently whispered the line over and over while staring hungrily into a distant point in space — almost as if he was the one glitching out now. Unnerved, I stepped into his line of sight, and only then did he continue on.

"…but yes, of course. It was clear that our connection was far more than skin deep, hmhm."

He took the knife and traced its point against the pale surface of his left wrist, as if to demonstrate. Then, apparently thinking better of it, he withdrew and went back to gripping it tightly, point angled well away from any sensitive areas.

I was at a total loss of what to do now, which is why it was a relief when Frank called out, "So, that thing makes you special now, eh?"

"It was our black mark, our scarlet letter, our afflicted artifact of blasphemous taboos," Luke returned. "You stand here to judge, to cleanse the 'abnormality', but thanks to this sacred curse we were condemned creatures from the start, doomed to fringes, never to be accepted."

Frank scoffed again and got up, pushing his way past Carter and I to the front of the group. Silently, he stood cross–armed in front of Luke — just out of the switchblade's range.

"I predict you, of all people, will now attempt to condemn for my willful corruption, delving into that which should not be," Luke told him. "So to you, I say, I declare I would have done it all again, and transformed us both into monsters of the dark. We would have been hated, are hated, forever rejected no matter the way."

Frank paused for one second, frowning. Luke cringed, making an ugly grimace.

"Alright, I've had enough of this," Frank finally returned.

He took a step forward. Luke took a step back. Another step forward. Luke almost fell back into the reading chair.

"Halt! Don't come any closer!" he cried, picking up his cane and holding it toward Frank. The heavier junior simply grabbed the other end and ripped it out of Luke's frip, tossing it into the corner. Then he came closer. With dread, I watched the hand with the knife, but instead of drawing it towards his opponent, Luke pointed it in the opposite direction, where it couldn't do any harm. Frank slapped it out of his grasp anyway and it fell point–first onto the floor, becoming embedded in the cheap carpet.

"If you think you're any different anyone else, just because of some crazy old books you read, forget about it," Frank growled, pushing Luke all the way back into his seat.

"It doesn't matter what Monika does and it doesn't matter what crazy stuff you put on a screen," he continued. "This stupid mad artist act is just going to make you miserable and alone, just like MC said. And you're not a genius, you're not a 'superior breed,' you're just a lonely geek just like the rest of us — like, why do you think we're here for you? So stop brooding over this endless emo sob story and do something real for once, huh? Or at least don't do anything you'll regret."

Luke opened his mouth, but only a strangled, croaking noise came out.

"Well, there's my two cents," Frank was saying. "If that doesn't work, we might as well leave him and call it a day, because—"

"ahahaha…Aha…AHAHAHAHA!"

He was interrupted by a violent laugh from Luke. Unrestrained and distinctly creepy, it almost reminded me of something I had heard in a popular anime once. I didn't have time to recall which one though, because it was soon replaced by a series of confused sobs.

"No...no, no, no, no! Impossible, impossible, I can't…carry this…unburden," came the words caught between the cries. "This identity, the last act, even at the triumphant moment I can't…I can't believe I can't…"

"You can't…what?" I ventured cautiously.

"I can't keep up this useless farce anymore! I'm a rotten fraud who can't hold anything together, not when you're all right about the sheer…uselessness of it all. Uselessness!"

"A fraud…are you saying this is all a front? Are you serious!?" I shouted.

"A front, a façade, a meticulously crafted graven image, what difference does it make? From the very start of our club, I was hiding behind a guise in an effort to excite my own mind…no, not even that. I acted a role I invented because I simply had no idea how else to act. Do you really think someone like me would have any experience in a group setting…with friends?"

He turned toward us, and I saw his flushed, tear–stained face for a brief moment. Then, he went limp and buried his face in the cushion of the reading chair, cane and knife forgotten.

The rest of us shuffled around nervously for a few seconds. I glanced at Frank, who raised a knowing eyebrow, as if to say told you so. Meanwhile, Carter was poking at the fallen flaneur's sleeve.

"Uh, Luke?"

"We are the hollow men!" he exclaimed out of nowhere. "Empty shades walk these streets, headpieces filled with straw, my friend, my hypocrite lecteur…"

"Yeah, I don't know what a hypocrite lecturer is, but I know you should probably get up, okay?" consoled Carter. "I didn't think you were putting on a show in the club — I actually thought you were really insightful and authentic the whole time in there, and plenty of people act certain ways in certain settings, so maybe it's not even that bad, what you're saying, but…anyway, I guess comfort is kind of Sayori's thing, but do you feel okay enough to move on and maybe help us?"

"Help? You don't need my help," he moaned. "Just go, fulfill your quest, leave me here to question everything I ever was and will ever be. I'm in no state to stop you."

"In that case, let's get this straight," I asked. "All of a sudden now, you don't want to let Monika control the world and let you do…art things?"

"No, no, it was never real…it's all ash in my mouth. Perhaps at some point, I convinced myself it's what I wanted, but I can't believe in the illusion any longer. Not with all of you here, and especially with him pointing out the truth."

He waggled a finger in Franks' general direction, and continued, "I can't look at myself with a straight face. It's exactly as he said, all doom and gloom and endless spirals into madness, but I could never truly escape myself…my real self, of with which I now come face to face."

"So you will stop the hack, at least," I said, somewhat confused, somewhat sympathetic, but also eager to claim a third victory and clear the conditions for meeting with Monika.

"I may as well stop it, but I'm no use to you otherwise. It's clear to everyone that I only ruin everything I touch. Especially her. To think she was once my angel, I — I don't even want to think of it."

I heard a strumming ukulele, and it took a full three seconds to remind myself of what that meant.

Sayori: Hey, I don't know if you're listening over there, but you might want to scratch that "ruin everything" part.

Sayori: Yuri's back, and she's good as new!

Natsuki: Good as…you're making it sound like we just did car maintenance.

Sayori: Well, if we're all part of a machine, isn't everything we do kind of like car maintenance?

Natsuki: I don't know, you're the one who did your thing and talked to her!

Natsuki: I just smoothed down her basic sys ops enough that those…tears in her code wouldn't overwhelm her.

I didn't catch the rest of their dialogue, as another window took precedence, and a soft, warbling cello sounding.

Yuri: Luke? Is that…you?

"Yuri!" Luke cried. "I…I have no words."

Yuri: Ah…neither do I.

Yuri: I don't quite feel myself, you could say.

Yuri: I still have all my memories, of course, but all those things I did while…um…

The purple DOKI's face disappeared behind the curtain of her hair, back to being the perfect shrinking violet from the early meetings of the club.

"Intoxicated, let's say," Luke filled in.

Yuri: Yes…those recollections don't seem like me, necessarily.

Yuri: As if I was acting under an alternate persona. Although…

Yuri: I can't deny I was still there, in the moment, feeling all kinds of…um…

Her avatar wavered back and forth for a second, then collapsed into an even more withdrawn pose. Her sprite visibly shuddered.

Yuri: …I can't talk about it.

Yuri: I can only hope the others will forgive me.

"They will, they must," Luke assured. "And I swear, I will never pressure you to use the knife again. It was terrible, nothing but an indulgence, I wish I had never learned about it."

Hanging his head, Luke kicked the dropped switchblade across the floor to emphasize his point.

Yuri: Yes, but…it would have been inevitable. I'm always being drawn to it. Like a moth to a flame, both of us.

"Yes, but surely now, you can forgo it all?"

Yuri: No…

Yuri: Regrettably, I can still feel it.

Yuri: Vibrating, pulsating, always yearning, it's still on the edge of my consciousness, waiting for me to plunge it in, and…and…and…

Yuri: . . .

"Yuri!"

Yuri: …I'm sorry. Ultimately, the others' consensus is accurate.

Yuri: That place where it was taking us…regardless of whether we could have survived there— it would have been very lonely.

Yuri: But you can't blame yourself. I was the one who chose to abuse the technique, going back again and again for the rush, Pavlovian conditioning—

"It may not have been entirely your fault," I interrupted her. "I know for a fact Monika has been altering everyone's programming for at least a month. I can't tell you exactly how, but even though she said she was trying to help…I'm starting to believe she might have had other aims."

Yuri: I see…that might make sense.

Yuri: Once, I considered myself quite adept at managing my…urges…

Yuri: But if she was to disrupt my delicate balance, I could have easily led myself astray.

"We don't know Monika did that for sure though!" Carter argued. "Like, I can't say anything really became different with Sayori…even though it would be hard to tell after that one night...Actually, I guess you could be right, maybe?"

Yuri: More than a "maybe".

Yuri: I'm absolutely certain I must have been manipulated by Monika. There's no other explanation.

Yuri: Perhaps she only wanted me out of the way of her scheme, but if she wanted to make me into a monster…then she'll get a monster.

Yuri: When we speak to her, I'm going to make her see exactly how humiliating it is to be someone else's puppet.

Yuri: I'll come right up to her, stare directly into her eyes, hold her down, breathe into her pretty little face.

Yuri: Then, I shall delicately excoriate her pale throat, staining the flawless one crimson while masticating the larynx, poison words never to be spoken again as she chokes on her own—

Yuri's text box was soon overflowing with jagged, heavily accented black text, frightening enough without the violence of the words themselves. It took Luke's despairing cry to release her from the renewed trance.

"Yuri! — please, don't…no more. It's making me want to…"

Luke looked genuinely nauseated by what he was seeing, and Yuri took a few seconds to dismiss the wild–eyed look of her sudden relapse.

Yuri: I'm sorry, did I just…?

Yuri: Oh no no no no no…

Folding over herself in shame, Yuri hid her avatar's face and slunk to the corner of the screen.

Sayori chose that moment to pop back on screen, right when Yuri seemed at her lowest.

Sayori: Yuri, it's fine…we're all still here for you!

Sayori: I know what it's like to not feel right sometimes and that's all it is, okay?

Sayori: You weren't feeling yourself just then. I know the real Yuri, and she wouldn't do anything like that.

Yuri: I invited the horror inside me, and it continues to eat me alive.

Yuri flashed an expression of pure horror that left Sayori speechless. Mercifully though, the taller DOKI straightened up immediately, and with a solemn expression:

Yuri: Monika, SalvoCore, the curse of this "literature club."

Yuri: Regardless of my current state, all this misfortune must be resolved. We have to conclude our narrative.

Yuri: It all ends here, tonight — I can sense it.

Yuri: Michael, I know your plan. We will go to Monika immediately.

Yuri: No further deliberation!

Startled by Yuri's intensity, I scanned the room for any objections. Luke was giving me an uneasy look, but he was the first one to rise, and started to leave without us.

"Let's go," was my response. I started for the exit myself, but remembered to say something to Frank.

"Uh, thanks for confronting Luke just now. I don't think I could have done that — we'd be lost without you."

"Yeah, well, er…I didn't know all of that would come spilling out either," he replied. "Let's just call it a lucky guess and leave it at that because…I think we're all just trying to hold ourselves together here."

Letting out an anxious sigh that showed he was just as unnerved as the rest of us, Frank followed Carter and me down the stairs and out of the library. We caught up to Luke at the exit back onto the main campus thoroughfare, where our final destination was just a minute away. The Q0 spire, root source of the hack, stretched high across the starry sky. Scarcely believing I had actually succeeded and gathered everyone before midnight, I readied myself for the even greater challenge to come. With the other members, I had certain facts I could reveal about Monika, but as for talking to Monika herself, I had nowhere to stand. It was going to come down to my persuasion versus hers, which seemed all but hopeless. All night, I had been speculating about Monika's plans, brainstorming the best way to approach her, but I hadn't come to any conclusions. Meanwhile, I was beginning to fear something fundamental.

Maybe I had never understood her. Not even from the start.


Author's Notes:


Yuri's "semi–garbled romantic poem is, aside from the first sentence, a mashup of lines from John Keats' Ode to a Nightingale, which I chose because it was the first thing that popped up when I Googled "melancholy romantic poem. Though, it did happen to have a somewhat thematic line at the end I got to sneak in. Meanwhile, Luke makes some T.S. Eliot references immediately following his breakdown.

I also planned to put more of the plot in this chapter, but noting the climbing word count, I decided to push it to the next. It's been long enough without an update anyway, I judge. Blame how Luke's confrontation scene was definitely the hardest of the three to write. I hope it doesn't come off as too forced or unexpected.

The next chapter might be short, considering the cliffhanger I have planned for it, but with some of it written already, I can tell you that it's still going to pack a punch.