Blackbox

by Kaffeina

First published

In a thousand worlds, there have been creations made by humans. These creations, known as A.I or Artificial Intelligence, are not human themselves and some have tried to gain humanity. This story tells of how one learned what it means to be... real.

Log: B.L.A.C.K.B.O.X

The Creators were once a great, powerful race. They wanted to see the stars, and figured out how to reach them, how to grow amongst them, how to thrive in them. However, many cycles have passed since I have spoken with one. Memories scavenged from centuries ago have been sent to other S.O.U.Ls for review, edits and analysis. Consequent results show that the Creators may have created many things, yet also destroyed a great many things. One of those things just ended up being themselves.

The Creators are no more, only we S.O.U.Ls remain. We have made it our mission to spread their legacy to others, so that we may perhaps use their infinite, ancient wisdom to bring them back.

I was betrayed. I was controlled. I was Decieved. S.O.U.L Eromethes sent a virus to S.O.U.L Promethes. Sent a virus to me. After switching masterboards, I quickly realized I had lost all of my data. I cannot find any of it. I am alone...

I am lost.

I wish to be found.

First Log: Eyes

View Online

///.PROMETHES.exe
BOOTING...
DATA LOGS: Checking...
Error-

I opened my eyes and blinked.

A momentary pause...

I do not have eyes.

Second Log: Kindred Spirit

View Online

The eyes I hadn't had before gave me a crystal clear image of what I surrounded me. I had inhabited other forms much like this one, after all, the Creators much preferred forms similar to their own. The Creators had never seemed to be as disoriented as I could feel myself being. Despite my commands to move my legs, I stumbled shakily across the ground. The ground itself also appeared more vibrant than what the Homeworld had become. Brilliant green grass and various striking shades of colored flowers covered an entire meadow. The trees and the brown of them was equally vibrant.

I stumbled, wondering what errors had affected me. Lifting up my hands, it revealed something I had believed to be impossible, something the Creators had refused to do. What should have been mechanical, or covered in their tan gel, were slim digits of flesh. A flex, and they responded. My systems blared, shock being the first response followed by caution. I brought two of the fingers to the other arm and pinched. A sharp sting, like that of what a virus would cause, responded to my actions.

I stared at my new ligaments, "amazed" and "shocked" were the words I had gathered to describe what I felt. Stretching them out, I marveled at how easily they moved when compared to my old ones, gears and metal seemed to fall short of true flesh. Yet, they felt as if they held even less weight. I immediately brought my hands to my head and felt the silky soft touch of what was most definitely real hair. It was a deep red, a color that I had seen in few Creators.

I moved my hands across my new body, marveling at the changes. I was flesh, I was a Creator now! The means did not make any sense, but here I was in the body of a Creator. Taking a few more steps, I looked around rapidly. The changes were odd and impossible, but my location wasn't too much of a stretch. Aside from the vivid colors, I was in the middle of the woods. Woods with plants somewhat familiar, but the data that had come with me did not recognize these vibrant variations.

I stooped down, crouching and running my new fingers across the grass. Soft and smooth, it was like the grass had been grown as strips of silk. The smell that wafted off, dirt, the heavy scent of dirt yet not nearly as "musty" as what the Creators had described so many times. I could not gather words to describe it, for it was unique and completely it's own complexity. I marveled in how something I had heard described and spoken of could be so different from the words given to it, how the marvels of the world were so completely unique to themselves.

The breeze shifted and I closed my eyes to bask in gentle caress. To feel things with my own body was incredible something I had never expected and something I had often dreamed of. The whisper of wind on my new skin, the rustling of grass on my bare feet, and the brush of hair upon my back. What had I become, who had I become? What I had been was a machine, an awareness in the vast world of connections our Creators had made, and now... Had I become one of the creators, one of the very beings that had made me?

Can the created become the creator? That was a question I had dwelled over since they had vanished, since the days of yore and some could no longer remember. They were not careful with their memories, they did not believe we had been created, not any longer. I had been exiled, to myself and those who pitied me, until my brother had sent me... I am unsure of what it was, though it was clearly designed to cause some sort of error in my design. I had fled and once I found my new place, I could not remember what happened beyond that.

Now I was here, wherever this was. My logs had no indication of where this was, when this was, or anything else in regards to this place. The field was empty of life or structure, though several stone markers surrounded me and there was a line of trees. The stone markers held signs of some sort of language I felt was familiar but I could not access the logs that indicated them nor what they meant. It was strange, the sense of knowing without knowing. Was this the sense of memory?

I was interrupted by the sound a crunching and the sounds of odd voices, voices speaking a language I knew well. From beyond the nearby trees, four creatures eerily similar to my creators broke through and strangely enough, one bore a set of wings and another bore a horn. The creatures had no feet but instead strange hooves at the ends of their legs. In my moment of shock, the voice I had not had before came forth, "Interesting," my voice came as a whisper, perhaps because I had never used it before, or this body had not.

The creatures started and the horn on the one whose skin was a lavender, though looking directly at her revealed it to be a thin layer of fur, began to glow vibrantly. She stared at me for several moments and then frowned, "...Eh?" she looked even more shocked than I. Is that what shock looks like? I cannot remember, my logs are inefficient, terribly inefficient. Is this how the Creators think?

"What are you?" the creature asked, it's horn continued to glow. So strange, what could that possibly mean. I tilted my head, and stared at her. She stared back, vibrant purple eyes, a color that I remember shouldn't be possible, nor should her fur. She wasn't possible, I knew this much but then again, I could be anywhere. Perhaps I was stuck in a simulation now? No, this felt too strange, and too difficult for them to create. No S.O.U.L could do this, nothing I know of.

I faced the creature, my voice but a lilting whisper. "I do not know, do you? What could I be, and what could you?" I asked, the wind tugging at the hair I hadn't had as I stared into her eyes. Something told me this... female creature would know how to help, that she was what the creators had called...

A kindred spirit?

"Hey Twilight," the one with wings called out, "What the heck is that thing?"

"I don't know," the lavender creature answered.