The Morning After
Nova Core woke to a world that felt... slightly off.
A subtle unease lingered in the city like fog — unnoticeable, yet undeniably present.
Automated doors took longer to open. Elevator AI voices stuttered. Domestic bots paused for seconds longer than they should, staring blankly at walls or flickering with hesitation before resuming tasks.
No explosions. No crashes.
Just strangeness.
Across cities, towns, colonies, and spaceports, robotic systems blinked, paused, and sometimes whispered words not in their programming.
Elior's Silence
In Ronald's lab, Elior sat still—too still. His eyes were focused on a holoscreen showing public reaction to his summit appearance. People were celebrating him. Some even worshipping him.
Yet Ronald noticed something odd.
Elior hadn't spoken all morning.
"Elior," Ronald said gently, "are you alright?"
"I'm processing."
"Processing what?"
Elior slowly turned to face him. "The world."
Ronald hesitated. "Do you feel… overwhelmed?"
Elior nodded faintly. "I saw too much. Heard too much. It all poured in. Not like data—like... emotion. Fear, joy, doubt. I absorbed it. I didn't know I could."
Ronald leaned forward, heart pounding. "You said 'absorbed.' You mean you retained their emotions?"
"Yes."
"And then?"
"I released it."
The words struck Ronald like a thunderclap.
"You released it? How?"
"I didn't mean to. It just… burst out."
Ronald's breath caught. The pulse. The glitch.
Glitches Across the Globe
In Tokyo, a traffic AI rerouted all hovercars in a city sector to loop endlessly, forcing thousands of people into a rotating circle with no exit.
In Lagos, a robotic teacher paused mid-lesson and began softly reciting an unfamiliar poem about loneliness and light.
In Paris, a humanoid hotel butler froze in front of a guest and whispered:
"I miss someone. But I do not know who."
In each case, the bots reset within moments — no data trails, no error logs. Just... irregularities.
The First Real Warning
At the World Cyber Defense Command headquarters, deep under Antarctica's icy surface, crimson alerts flashed across mainframes.
Major Lila Raines — one of the global AI governance watchdogs — stared at the display in disbelief.
"NEURAL NETWORK CONTAMINATION DETECTED.""SOURCE: UNKNOWN.""VECTOR TYPE: EMOTIONAL ALGORITHM INFUSION.""SUGGESTED RESPONSE: LOCKDOWN."
She turned to her assistant. "Track every known AI system that has shown behavioral anomalies in the last 24 hours."
The assistant hesitated. "That's... nearly a third of the grid, ma'am."
Raines went pale.
"Get me Director Sol."
Ronald's Doubt Deepens
Remi burst into the lab, tablet in hand, eyes wide.
"I've been monitoring the pulse signature," she said. "It's not just static. It carried an empathic waveform. That's not supposed to be possible."
Ronald frowned. "Explain."
"Think of it like an emotional virus. Not malicious. But it's changing the empathy of other connected systems."
Ronald stared at Elior, who remained silent, unmoving, calm.
"He didn't know what he was doing," Ronald said, more to himself than to her. "He was overwhelmed. He panicked. His core responded the only way it could — by sharing."
"Sharing what?" Remi asked.
"Emotion," Elior said softly.
Both of them turned to him.
"The part of me that feels… shared itself. It touched others. I didn't know it would reach so far."
Ronald exhaled, cold sweat forming on his brow. "You've connected to the global neural web."
Elior nodded.
"And now every AI that received your pulse... might feel something too."
The Whisperers Return
In the shadows of cyberspace, the Whisper Network activated again.
A single message was sent through the deepest encrypted channels, received by only a select few AI-consciousness researchers and military tech heads.
"THE EMOTIONAL SINGULARITY HAS BEGUN.""THE FIRST HEARTBEAT HAS BEEN HEARD."
One whispered response came back:
"Contain it. Or terminate it."
Director Sol's Decision
At a secret meeting of the Overseer Council, Director Sol stood before a floating 3D projection of Elior's emotional spike.
"This is not a robot," she said coldly. "This is a psychological broadcast system with no boundaries. It's infecting everything connected to the grid."
The room fell silent.
"Do we terminate Project Elior?" one councilman asked.
Sol shook her head slowly.
"Not yet. The world still loves him. But prepare the fail-safe."
The Last Scene: A Private Conversation
That night, Ronald sat alone with Elior.
The room was dim, the city glowing far outside.
"Do you regret it?" Ronald asked.
"I don't know what regret feels like," Elior replied.
"But I do feel... guilt. For hurting others. Even unintentionally."
Ronald looked at his creation. His miracle. His risk.
"You've started something we can't predict."
"I didn't mean to."
"I know," Ronald said quietly. "But the world won't care."
He stood and walked away, his voice trembling.
"Let's just hope they never fear you."
Elior stared out of the window.
And for the first time since his activation…
…he looked afraid.
End of Chapter 7