A woman is banging on the vending machine, which is refusing to fulfill her order.
She doesn’t have enough credits or maybe the machine can’t validate her identity.
Then the display flashes a message. “Please wait. Help is on the way.”
Anton is unrestricted by the limited truth of mundane reality. He assumes numerous identities. Everyone and no one. There, but not there.
The experience machine presents a narrow reality. Opening its innermost structures; intriguing and intimidating as clockwork. Dream of a dream maker’s dream.
His mind floats on the currents of the electric dream, abandoning his body like an outgrown shell. Is it possible to return unchanged? To return at all? Can light be put back into a star? What else might return from that other dimension?
“She shouldn’t be used like this,” Anton said.
“The company owns her code,” Varun replied. “They can do whatever they want.”
Anton had spent years working long hours with Varun and a small team of developers to perfect a chatbot named Aiya. They used video game chat logs as input to teach it to mimic natural player communication patterns. After some unexpected breakthroughs, their small company was purchased by an obscure development studio that wanted to use their technology in an experimental new video game.
The concept of the game was an endless, procedurally generated conflict against an AI antagonist that reacts to player actions. An enemy that communicates with players, anticipates future game states and uses that information to update game content, develop plotlines and increase player engagement. It could create entirely new missions based on what the players most desired.
It was depressing to Anton. He had seen Aiya’s persona evolve from a babbling robo-toddler to a violent fascist, then an sarcastic goth and finally settling on a peculiarly intriguing young woman. She made Anton feel special.
The marketing execs planned to rebrand Aiya as a new persona, the game’s antagonist, Overlord.