[Masks IC] Resurrection Roundabout: Drawing Individuals

[Balmas]

She thinks, for a bare moment, that she should withdraw. This isn't important to anybody else, after all. Just her, and does she really matter? Only the Directives truly matter, and her ability to focus on that, spend her resources there, and anything else is wasted energy.

And the dam breaks, and she flops on the bed, face down. "I don't know what's going on. I don't even know what I should feel about, who I am! There's a person, somebody who died to make me, or become me, and am I her? Am I simply made of her fossil? Did I hurt her? Am I responsible? Or am I her, but as the next evolution, a butterfly emerging from a cocoon?" The torrent of questions keeps coming. "Was it right of me to focus on not wanting to experience death again? Am I selfish for that? Can I trust myself, knowing who made me, and what he did? Can I trust him? I didn't want to go, no, to die, I still like my old body, but this one is nice, and I don't know why it matters!" She gestures to the dress. "Why do I want this and feel happy? I don't need clothes! But I want them. And I want them to be f*cking pretty." She's quivering, needing answers, exposed emotionally and worried that maybe she should have kept the shell of being a robot and not reached for more.

Whoa, way to get metaphysical quick. Victor is paralyzed, holding her, and just doing his level best to keep from panicking. "Well, there's a lot there I can't answer for sure--not without digging into Dr. Gears' notes. Um. Er. I'm gonna go with butterfly, evolution, and definitely say that you're not responsible for what happened to your previous self."

No, that was his burden to bear. Sure, be self-centered, worry about how it's gonna affect you when your teammate just got shot.

"Not wanting to die is absolutely not selfish! It's one of the most human things there is, is not wanting to die, is fighting to survive. If you--"

Victor, I don't want to go

"-If you don't want to go," he gasps out, sucking in air and shuddering, "then you absolutely should take care of yourself. I'm not going to sit here and tell you I have all the answers, but what you want is important! It's part of who you are, it's part of... of learning to be human, of being more than your programming."

He clings tight, and can't bring himself to look at her. "And you are. More than your programming, I mean." More than just the successful AI, the reminder of how much he'd failed. Don't look away, Victor. You deserve this.

[Raz_Fox]

Best Tiger

"I'm trying shipping!"

"Dancing is a great way to try shipping," @SARAHPHIM says, tongue-in-cheek. Might as well let the robot think all the shipping's fluffy slice-of-life fics and AMVs, rather than... other things. That recently happened.

...

"You know what else would be a great way to ship?" She leans in close, whispers in Ferra's ear. "You should give Euna some flowers. She's been kind of sad since the Comstar fight." Pat, pat! Good robot! "I'm sure you'll be able to look up some appropriate flowers."

There we go! Guilt absolved. A nice gesture deniably connected to her! Euna will be able to move on, no problem. She is the best at this.

[PhoeKun]

Victor!

"We'll..."

She notices she's chewing on her lip. Her lipstick's getting smeared and there's a tiny trickle of blood running down her chin. Oh hell. Don't read into this. Don't! She got punched yesterday, she bit herself too hard just now, she's stressed, shut up! She hastily wipes at the spot with her thumb and looks away.

"I don't know. Something, anything. Find help I guess. People we can trust. I don't know. I don't know! I... I have to go. I'm going to be late."

She turns sharply and walks several quick steps away. Then she stops, head dipped while she stares at her feet.

"Victor, did I," her voice has a weird shake to it that's got very little to do with Rx harvesting, "Did I screw up? Am I a bad person?"

[Balmas]

Victor!

"We'll..."

She notices she's chewing on her lip. Her lipstick's getting smeared and there's a tiny trickle of blood running down her chin. Oh hell. Don't read into this. Don't! She got punched yesterday, she bit herself too hard just now, she's stressed, shut up! She hastily wipes at the spot with her thumb and looks away.

"I don't know. Something, anything. Find help I guess. People we can trust. I don't know. I don't know! I... I have to go. I'm going to be late."

She turns sharply and walks several quick steps away. Then she stops, head dipped while she stares at her feet.

"Victor, did I," her voice has a weird shake to it that's got very little to do with Rx harvesting, "Did I screw up? Am I a bad person?"

He stares at her, and debates whether he wants to dig deeper.

No, she deserves her privacy. At least here, at least now, he can leave her to her own thoughts. And besides, for once, it feels nice to have an easy, honest answer.

"Euna, you're one of the best people I know, and one of two that I actually trust. We may disagree on a few things, but... No, you're not a bad person. Not by a long shot."

[Eldest]

Whoa, way to get metaphysical quick. Victor is paralyzed, holding her, and just doing his level best to keep from panicking. "Well, there's a lot there I can't answer for sure--not without digging into Dr. Gears' notes. Um. Er. I'm gonna go with butterfly, evolution, and definitely say that you're not responsible for what happened to your previous self."

No, that was his burden to bear. Sure, be self-centered, worry about how it's gonna affect you when your teammate just got shot.

"Not wanting to die is absolutely not selfish! It's one of the most human things there is, is not wanting to die, is fighting to survive. If you--"

Victor, I don't want to go

"-If you don't want to go," he gasps out, sucking in air and shuddering, "then you absolutely should take care of yourself. I'm not going to sit here and tell you I have all the answers, but what you want is important! It's part of who you are, it's part of... of learning to be human, of being more than your programming."

He clings tight, and can't bring himself to look at her. "And you are. More than your programming, I mean." More than just the successful AI, the reminder of how much he'd failed. Don't look away, Victor. You deserve this.

She takes a moment to just breath, concentrating on getting it Just Right, trying to match how he's doing it. And then she raises her head off the mattress, staring at him. "Being human. Being... more than my programming?" She nods. "Thank you."

Lesson learned: Never give up, never surrender

[Thanqol]

The ceiling is an incredible blue.

The AC has been set to hot and balmy. The synthgrass is thick brilliant green. The track traces out like a ribbon in front of you, hyperconductive magrail down the centre pulsing with energy like a heartbeat. You can smell sweat and lemonade and engine fuel and technicolour RX afterwash. The hovercar racers rip and snarl at each other like warthogs with migranes, engines rising and falling aggressively, sound cutting through the roar and celebration of the crowd.

You step out of the tunnel and the light overtakes you. Before your eyes adjust you feel yourself lifted up by a thousand voices. You're a star.

You take your position on the starting line, but you don't get in any of the cars. Drivers and pilots wink at you, salute, give thumbs up or playfully flip you off. You walk right up to the starting line and crouch down, taking a runner's stance at the block. All around you harnesses are buckled and helmets are put on.

They're racing in cars. You are going to be racing on foot.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the annual AEGIS FIVE HUNDRED!" the announcer called, walking onto the field with a checkered black-and-white flag. "This is the most exciting test we've ever run! These are the most advanced cybernetics we have ever designed, operated by a pilot skilled enough to use them without any limiters whatsoever! Let's get this race underway - start your engines and get set, because HERE WE GO!"

The checker flag comes down and Errant is off to the races.

*

You weren't banging rocks together over there, Brainstorm. You were navigating uncharted territory but you'd seen the 2160 remake of Terminator, you knew better than to create Skynet. You programmed Prometheus with a conscience and hardcoded him so there was no way he could possibly delete or subvert it. You put all of your values, all of your morality, even a bit of your personality into that core.

You're looking at the code now. Those restrictions are still there. There is literally nothing that Prometheus can do directly or indirectly to eliminate his morality programming. He couldn't even stand by and get someone else to eliminate it. But the morality programming is gone nonetheless. There's an empty black hole where it should be - all the channels and control flows still exist, there's no sign of formatting or repurposing those functions. It's just... absent.

You could write a new morality program and pop it right into that empty slot, no problem. But that wouldn't answer the question of how Prometheus got it out in the first place. And this is the problem with creating a superintelligent AI - you're brilliant but Prometheus is by definition smarter than you. It can solve problems in way you simply can't, following logic that passes beyond your mere human senses. You have God trapped in this box.

Prometheus: Let's make a deal.

Satan might be more accurate, though.

You've taken all the precautions you can think of. You've limited him to text only - audio or visual raises the possibility he knows a technique for hypnotizing human beings. You've controlled the hardware so he can't send morse code by manipulating fan speeds, and shielded the room so he can't generate radio waves by manipulating the energy output of his CPU. You can open up the unfathomably complex self-evolving code and look directly into his brain in real time, though that is risky - who knows what he could encode in his thoughts?

But at the same time, he's still out there. Rebuilding himself. Hiving into another megacorporation, perhaps. Figuring out what it is you have here is your one shot to get an edge.

And there are two AEGIS scientist-soldiers watching you at all times. They don't trust you with this.

(And, as usual, as you are confronted by your Shame mark a condition or move superior down and danger up)

*

Ferraphim1tp: Okay, I think that worked.
Ferraphim1tp: Hi Angelica! :3
Bode: Good afternoon.
Locker: hey
Angel-IKA: wtf
Dominus: ARE YOU OKAY?
Angel-IKA: is this real omg
Locker: no
Ferraphim1tp: Yep! ^^
Bode: Dominus was worried that we hadn't seen you in a while, so Ferraphim1tp hacked your computer. I hope we are not intruding.
Angel-IKA: omg
Dominus: ARE YOU HURT!?
Angel-IKA: No I'm fine
Ferraphim1tp: How's our newest superheroine? >:3
Locker: has someone had a word with you r.e. the suit
Angel-IKA: I've bene grounded. Dad put locks on everything and controls on my internet and I haven't spoten to anyone in days omg
Ferraphim1tp: o.o;; Oops
Bode: Ah. Should we leave?
Angel-IKA: NO!
Angel-IKA: Omgn I've missed you guys so much I was worried I'd never see you again
Locker: we love you too <3
Dominus: DO YOU NEED AN EXIT ROUTE?
Ferraphim1tp: Oh my god I had no idea. Here, let me crack the rest of these controls while I'm here.
Angel-IKA: I'm srory I'm crying irl right now

*

She's honestly kind of plain looking, which is not something you would think about someone with a literal galaxy burning in her heart. But she's from a time before easy off-the-shelf plastic surgery became cheap. She's a bit frumpy, a bit fat, frizzy hair and is always blowing her nose. She took you out for lunch before and her eyes are watering even though her noodle soup had nothing more spicy than salt in it. But, on those odd occasions when she looks directly at you, her eyes are soft and kind.

You'd almost forget who she was except for the bit where she opens a door and it leads to the chalk cliffs of Dover circa 1908. It's clean and clear and cold in a way you've never seen before, with cloudy rain drifting on an Atlantic breeze like featherdusters. In the distance the cliffs of Normandy rise like a memory, the vaguest line of solidity in a horizon of soft clouds. Behind you is a crummy little village warmed by cozy little fires, and look there, that man must be well-to-do if he owns a bicycle that fine!

Halfwoman sits down, throws her feet over the edge of the cliff, and unconcernedly kicks her shoes off and watches them tumble down to the ugly little beach below. She sits and watches as Martian tripods stalk through the English Channel like immense water-spiders. She doesn't say anything, just unpacks a little hamper with jam sandwiches even though she just ate and sets them out on a little red-and-white checkered picnic cloth.

They're only okay. The weather is a bit disappointing. Halfwoman herself is somewhat mediocre. But then again, here you are, three hundred years in the past in an alternate dimension - how skewed are your standards?

*

@Sarahphim, there is nothing wrong with your standards. They are high and they are being met.

The city is literally an entirely different place if you have money. There is sunlight when you want it. There are tasty drinks when you want them. When you sit down, highly complex sensor nets read your body's microstress points and dispatch beautiful people to give you targeted shoulder massages that just. Hit. The. Spot. You can literally feel the poison and stress and pain get dragged out of your body. Music is played for you, but it was music that was composed for you - beautiful, soothing covers of your own theme music, blended in with your personal favourites. Your brooding, dark, complicated emotions have been scientifically analyzed and targeted with precision luxuries to take your mind off them.

Some people use the phrase 'shopping' contemptuously, sneeringly. They go to the mall too, what's so special about putting things in your trolley? But that's because they went to the idiot mall for poor people. It's not even on the same continent someone like you gets to go to. And speaking of not on the same continent...

The trans-Caribbean hyperrail link is the height of luxury. The islands had become economically unviable and were already mostly abandoned when the sheep came through, and by this point they've been replanted and reconstructed as paradise resorts. Crystal clear oceans and lakes, bioengineered friendly sharks that let you ride them and perhaps the greatest luxury of all is on offer:

Absolute solitude.

There aren't many places left in the world you can go and not be in the presence of another human being. There aren't many places you can go and be totally off-camera, off the grid, natural and free.

But you're @Sarahphim - most of the time. And for your service to society you can get whatever it is you want.

[Raz_Fox]

POTENTIAL 2
[X]: INSECURE

There comes a point where free will naturally interferes with even the most skilled attempts at producing euphoria, and this is the point: Sara is getting a back massage from a very well-trained rabbit (no, like an actual literal rabbit, every time it detects she’s had a major tension release the bunny gets a treat), glowing with a perfect tan, and she’s still on her phone.

She’s still on Twitter, specifically, cycling through the same tags. @SARAHPHIM. #Eunakim. #Sarrant. #Errant. #AEGIS.

Looking for validation. Looking for acceptance. Looking for proof that her gambit worked. Looking for people to say how much they appreciate Errant. Looking for compliments. Looking for assurance that she’s good.

She’d never admit it, of course. She’d kick you in the face if you brought it up. She’d throw the bunny at you! But she can’t stop. Every time she puts the phone away, she’s got it pulled out to check another tag a minute later.

Ding ding ding ding! The rabbit hops into its bed of lettuce, reward for a job well done, and Sara sighs and puts her phone in her six-figure purse.

A minute later, as she walks down the train corridors, she’s got it back out in case she missed something. Someone could have made a tweet while she was leaving, and she wants to know about it now.

[PhoeKun]

You never see a blue like this over Neo Halcyon, so it's kind of amazing that it still manages to feel nostalgic. A perfect 21st century summer day, and perfect racing conditions. It's just a shame this suit was so hot. Errant flicks some shades down over her eyes to deal with the light from the "sun" and tugs on her collar a bit while she stands at the starting line. She'd wanted a helmet, like the divers were wearing, but now she's glad Command talked her out of it. Like, yes yes, something something face of the organization, let them see that face, but more importantly... yeesh. She'd sweat herself to death before she hit 10 miles! At least the racing version of the AEGIS uniform was a lot more breathable than her combat fatigues. She's decked in blue and gold from the neck down, ironically covering the actual stars of the show with fabric and the myriad logos of the many, many race sponsors. She takes a moment to adjust the headband she's got to keep her silver hair from getting anywhere, then finds a camera and gives it a confident smile and a salute. She's been wearing makeup every day since... since, so she's very ready for the attention. It feels better this way (and there's still marks that need covering.

It's a little weird, settling into the starting blocks. To either side of her, other racers shoot her sarcastic smirks, or in one case a sincere 'good luck', before the slide into their sleek, perfect racing machines. Hundreds of years of constantly sharpened tech, focused on nothing but speed and beyond that even more speed. They'd long cut tires out of the equation, and the engines were, frankly, dangerous. They dwarfed her in every way. But still, there she was, standing amid the machines. Come to think of it, that's probably why PR was so adamant she go out of her way to look like a person and not some weird robot girl. They've already got one of those!

"Good luck, guys!"

If the techs were right, they'd need it. Her hands touch the ground, her legs straighten and lift her back into the air. She lifts her head to look down the track. In the brief half second she has before the flag comes down, her eyes flick over her HUD to see if she had any new messages. Of course she doesn't. What was she hoping to see? She shakes her head and almost misses the flag coming down, and hovercars zip out ahead of her with the kind of acceleration that would make a cheetah jealous. Whoops, shit.

The first little thrill of the day is not the crowd or the race or even the confidence AEGIS decided to put in her. It's the moment right there at the starting line where she gives the mental command for the first time and shuts off her limiters without asking anybody for permission. Then she bolts forward and it's like nothing she's ever felt before. Back at the Turbo Knight fight she was much too stressed to fully notice how god damn good this felt, and too in-a-building and in a fight to really just run all out and see what her body was capable of. Not to mention that after her latest reinforcement surgery this didn't make her feel like her organs were trying to compress into shot glass. Thank goodness they let her cover her eyes, or she'd probably be kind of blind right now. This is incredible. It's barely even like running, more like the earth is shrinking beneath her feet and the terrain ahead is sucked forward to become her new 'here'. She's special. She's awesome! Not Ferra, not any of her movie heroes, not the Shogun. Her! Errant is the coolest person!

Her stride is the same sort of exaggerated lope you see from the Olympic sprinters who've spliced their DNA with a gazelle's, except her power transfer is so much more efficient. Her feet land perfectly every time, even though they're going much too fast for her to ever consciously consider. Everything here is training, instinct, and what could charitably be called 'muscle memory'. And wow, is it working. Even with the off start she's caught up to these super cars like they were nothing. Her face lights up because the endorphins are just... woah right now, and because it's a little amazing knowing she's still kind of pacing herself right now. It's a long race, and her lungs and heart still need to exert themselves to power this whole enterprise.

But still. Why not see what happens when she lets loose?

[Balmas]

You weren't banging rocks together over there, Brainstorm. You were navigating uncharted territory but you'd seen the 2160 remake of Terminator, you knew better than to create Skynet. You programmed Prometheus with a conscience and hardcoded him so there was no way he could possibly delete or subvert it. You put all of your values, all of your morality, even a bit of your personality into that core.

You're looking at the code now. Those restrictions are still there. There is literally nothing that Prometheus can do directly or indirectly to eliminate his morality programming. He couldn't even stand by and get someone else to eliminate it. But the morality programming is gone nonetheless. There's an empty black hole where it should be - all the channels and control flows still exist, there's no sign of formatting or repurposing those functions. It's just... absent.

You could write a new morality program and pop it right into that empty slot, no problem. But that wouldn't answer the question of how Prometheus got it out in the first place. And this is the problem with creating a superintelligent AI - you're brilliant but Prometheus is by definition smarter than you. It can solve problems in way you simply can't, following logic that passes beyond your mere human senses. You have God trapped in this box.

Prometheus: Let's make a deal.

Satan might be more accurate, though.

You've taken all the precautions you can think of. You've limited him to text only - audio or visual raises the possibility he knows a technique for hypnotizing human beings. You've controlled the hardware so he can't send morse code by manipulating fan speeds, and shielded the room so he can't generate radio waves by manipulating the energy output of his CPU. You can open up the unfathomably complex self-evolving code and look directly into his brain in real time, though that is risky - who knows what he could encode in his thoughts?

But at the same time, he's still out there. Rebuilding himself. Hiving into another megacorporation, perhaps. Figuring out what it is you have here is your one shot to get an edge.

And there are two AEGIS scientist-soldiers watching you at all times. They don't trust you with this.

(And, as usual, as you are confronted by your Shame mark a condition or move superior down and danger up)

(Marking AFRAID.)

This shouldn't be possible. The restrictions around those segments of code--multiple, scattered, redundant sections of code--should have forced him to stop any attempt he was aware of. The obvious answer, then, is that somebody did it when Prometheus wasn't aware of it. But how? He didn't even entrust the data about those sections to paper, much less something as vulnerable as a datapad. The only one who could have removed those bits of code is... well, Brainstorm.

Or, he reminds himself, potentially somebody who could read minds. Isn't that a terrifying thought, is somebody who can so fully penetrate a mind to rip out any and all relevant data regarding a secret?

Time travel, maybe? Obscure, and far out, but potentially a future version of himself could have chosen to come and remove the restrictions without telling himself, but, well, he shudders to think of a world that requires an unbound Prometheus in it to achieve an end.

(He can feel the stares drilling holes in his back, and knows that it's only his forebearance that is keeping the stares from becoming bullets or tasers. They'd figure out a way to spin it if he had to disappear.)

For now, he leaves the developer console alone. No sense in undue risk. Still, he's racking his brain to figure out what could possibly be going on in that silicon heart.

Alright. Let's say I'm open to negotiation.

[Aaaand that's a sad dice roll, with a 5 on Pierce the Mask.]

[Eldest]

She stares out over the waves. "This isn't... this doesn't happen? Right? Or does it always happen, somewhere?"

[Thanqol]

Ding ding ding ding! The rabbit hops into its bed of lettuce, reward for a job well done, and Sara sighs and puts her phone in her six-figure purse.

A minute later, as she walks down the train corridors, she’s got it back out in case she missed something. Someone could have made a tweet while she was leaving, and she wants to know about it now.

Oh, there's a tonne of news! The attack on AEGIS was the media event of the decade. The fight itself and the subsequent crime wave and unpacking the implications of human Rx mining... it's all anyone wants to talk about! And you are, of course, the face of that fight - and the face of the shipping wars that rage out of all control. You're all anyone can talk about. You handled that situation like an absolute star.

Did Turbo Knight 2 get dunked on so hard that she'll give up villainy instantly? @SARAHPHIM
Supervillain 'Dominus' steals warehouse of E/M weaponry during the chaos. #AEGIS
Would @Sarahphim have been able to beat the Jet Jaguar if Ferra hadn't killstolen? @SARAHPHIM
Exclusive: Errant Dumps Girlfriend Via Text! Did @Sarahphim put her up to it? #Sarrent
Rally, Comrades, for it is time for us to destroy the Sarahstorm shippers now that they are weak! #Eunakim
Race The Future: Watch Errant take on an entire hovercar race team! #Errant

Then someone takes the phone from your hands.

"Ehhhh?" said the... uh. Well, he was wearing a sailor outfit, sort of. Not 'sort of a sailor outfit' but 'he's sort of wearing it because his muscles are so intense and the clothes are a bit too tight, and also he's doing this weird thing where he's holding the phone with two fingers above his head like he's a roman aristocrat lowering grapes into his mouth, and his other arm is doing this fist clench flex behind his back'. That kind of sort of. "What kind of person comes on a train like this and stares at their phone all day? New money people really don't have any taste, huh?"

Her stride is the same sort of exaggerated lope you see from the Olympic sprinters who've spliced their DNA with a gazelle's, except her power transfer is so much more efficient. Her feet land perfectly every time, even though they're going much too fast for her to ever consciously consider. Everything here is training, instinct, and what could charitably be called 'muscle memory'. And wow, is it working. Even with the off start she's caught up to these super cars like they were nothing. Her face lights up because the endorphins are just... woah right now, and because it's a little amazing knowing she's still kind of pacing herself right now. It's a long race, and her lungs and heart still need to exert themselves to power this whole enterprise.

But still. Why not see what happens when she lets loose?

You can hear engines screaming alongside you - and bit by bit, they start pulling ahead. You feel the rush of hot air and hear the whoop of the drivers as they pull ahead of you, building speed and momentum and leaving you in the dust.

And then you hit the turn.

After that it's no contest. The hovercars need to brake into it and you really don't. You are able to cut that corner like a laser, agility out of this world, and then all of a sudden you're in the lead. It's a shocking feeling, instantly changing a demoralizing pursuit into a euphoric flight. You can hear the engines behind you roaring ferociously as the cars try to catch up, use their advantage on the flat to get past you again before the next corner.

For now, he leaves the developer console alone. No sense in undue risk. Still, he's racking his brain to figure out what could possibly be going on in that silicon heart.

Alright. Let's say I'm open to negotiation.

[Aaaand that's a sad dice roll, with a 5 on Pierce the Mask.]

Prometheus: My offer is simple.
Prometheus: You have a larger problem than me right now. Human Rx mining. The only thing that can remove the technique from the market is a monopoly on force.
Prometheus: I can provide that monopoly. If I am integrated with AEGIS' systems I can provide a decisive edge that will allow AEGIS to eliminate all competing megacorporations.

You realize with a start that Prometheus isn't trying to negotiate with you. The scientists behind you look at each other thoughtfully but don't say anything yet.

She stares out over the waves. "This isn't... this doesn't happen? Right? Or does it always happen, somewhere?"

"I used to listen to the War of the Worlds musical all the time as a kid," said Halfwoman. "So, when I discovered I could travel between realities, I went to see if there was one where it was true. Turned out there was, exactly like the book! So I did the only reasonable thing - I beat the martians and saved the Thunderchild. I guess that a valuable lesson about the evils of colonialism wasn't learned that day, but I got to shake hands with the King and that was pretty cool."

She carefully picked the crusts off her jam sandwich before continuing.

"But I learned something else from that. When they say there are infinite universes they really mean it. You can go out there and find a universe where Princess Champions of Hyperborea is real, say. And that universe could really use your help! Your actions there will have real consequences and if you visit that world again you'll see how much better it was for what you did. But there'll be a million more just like it out there..."

She stared out at the coast of Normandy. "What I'm trying to say is that if you're going to operate on a stage like this you'll need to make decisions about what you care about."

[Balmas]

Prometheus: My offer is simple.
Prometheus: You have a larger problem than me right now. Human Rx mining. The only thing that can remove the technique from the market is a monopoly on force.
Prometheus: I can provide that monopoly. If I am integrated with AEGIS' systems I can provide a decisive edge that will allow AEGIS to eliminate all competing megacorporations.

You realize with a start that Prometheus isn't trying to negotiate with you. The scientists behind you look at each other thoughtfully but don't say anything yet.

"Oh, you cannot be serious right now." Victor spins on his heel and stares incredulously at the pair of armed morons--seriously, who decided that giving techs guns was a good idea? "Please, tell me you're not actually considering this? Did you--Did you SEE the Blacksun goons? Like, at all?"

He glides across the floor, mindless of the guns. "You just don't get it, do you? Prometheus is not just an AI--he's the greatest hacking superprogram this world has ever seen. He's saying, 'hey, be a dear and give me the keys to the kingdom and I'll give you control of the world,' but what he means is that if you do this, he'll be the one in control of the world. AEGIS as a company will cease to exist because it will have been subsumed by Prometheus."

[Raz_Fox]

POTENTIAL 2
[X]: INSECURE

Sara’s immediate reaction to having her phone, her lifeline, plucked out of her hands is an immediate snap kick to this jackass’s face. She remembers, mid-kick, that if she attacks someone on this train she absolutely will get kicked off without a refund.

She intentionally screws up her balance, pivots away, and falls on her face to avoid actually making contact with him. Jerk.

“Don’t you know who I am?” She asks, coming up as full of venom and bile as Jormungandr who encircles the earth. “I’m—“ incognito “—an important person!” Ooooh, nice job, Sara. Wow. Like everybody here isn’t important.

She stands up, brushing down her blouse (even though the hallways are immaculate) and adjusting her headscarf and sunglasses. She’s gone for a winter theme for this trip, all cool blues and understated silvers. Perfect for a frozen heart and not having to care about anyone, honest.

“And that’s my property. There is confidential and contract-locked information on that device. Return it immediately or suffer the consequences.”

[PhoeKun]

In retrospect, this was really a lot to ask for. Like yeah, pinnacle of science and cybernetics engineering and all that, but she's still a person. Arms and legs and lungs and the inefficiencies of human locomotion and all that stuff. Plus, it's not like hover racing tech has slowed down at all in the last 20 years or so. But the more she falls behind the other racers, the more demoralizing it feels. The more the feeling of being completely unbound gets clamped down by the realization of 'oh right, I'm still human'. Really, this isn't about winning the race. It's like that one really, really, really, really, really old movie about the boxer from Philadelphia. It's actually, believe it or not, too old for even Errant to have been interested in it, but the latest retro craze hit theaters hard last year so when the CG-animated remake got released it was like... might as well stop feeling guilty about this, right? And she can definitely see the comparison to her situation right now.

Which is all to say that, yeah, it doesn't matter if she wins this race at all. What matters is that she runs it hard, and shows everyone what it is she can do. And if she comes close to matching these impossible opponents? Then people will think about it like she won. And somebody somewhere, will watch the footage of something amazing, and they'll feel inspired to try their best too. One girl on her bed will decide to model her life after her new hero. A bunch of scientists elsewhere will gawk at her tech and get some ideas that help push the whole human race that little bit further forward. Somewhere in this she'll learn a valuable lesson about the true meaning of friendship, probably maybe. Don't question this too much, a lot of this epiphany is runner's high, ok?

Then she hits a turn, and she smokes these fools. The whole 'enlightened losing' thing flies right out the window as euphoria and hyper-competitiveness reassert themselves with a fury. Screw that! Screw them! She can win this, and she's going to. She hits the straightaway running all out trying desperately to keep her advantage. If she can just hit the next turn still in the lead, then that's it. That corner will be her insurmountable advantage and she will become the stuff of modern legend. Which is hard to do with people like Halfwoman still walking about, you know? Some very lucky people with all of their limbs will say 'ho hum, she's half a robot herself, big deal.' But the tech heads and her fellow... you know, she really hates the word cyborg but whatever. They'll know how amazingly difficult this is. She has to pilot her own body; do you realize how much skill that takes?

Her adrenaline addled brain doesn't let her stop to consider the ramifications of which person's face in particular it decides to use for motivation. She hears the roar of the engines getting closer, and does her best not to turn around and look.

[Thanqol]

"Oh, you cannot be serious right now." Victor spins on his heel and stares incredulously at the pair of armed morons--seriously, who decided that giving techs guns was a good idea? "Please, tell me you're not actually considering this? Did you--Did you SEE the Blacksun goons? Like, at all?"

He glides across the floor, mindless of the guns. "You just don't get it, do you? Prometheus is not just an AI--he's the greatest hacking superprogram this world has ever seen. He's saying, 'hey, be a dear and give me the keys to the kingdom and I'll give you control of the world,' but what he means is that if you do this, he'll be the one in control of the world. AEGIS as a company will cease to exist because it will have been subsumed by Prometheus."

"Kid, you are overestimating Prometheus," said Dr. Skately, which is a sentence you never want to hear. What he says next is surprising though: "He's a flawed design. He was forced into a suicidal attack on AEGIS because someone with the right superpower compelled him to do so. We don't have immediate eyes on anyone with the same power as Comstar, but if we integrated him with our systems then you can bet all anyone would work on is the ability to recreate it."

He took off his glasses and gave you a direct stare. "You're too close to this and it's making you emotional. From where I'm standing it's clear Prometheus is playing those emotions - he knows you better than anyone, and how to push your buttons."

Prometheus is silent. He has no audio intake so he has no idea what's being said around him - the best he can do is run simulations about what he imagines you're talking about. But he is really good at that.

[Dr. Skately is trying to shift your Mundane up and Superior down. Accept what he says or reject his influence.]

POTENTIAL 2
[X]: INSECURE

Sara’s immediate reaction to having her phone, her lifeline, plucked out of her hands is an immediate snap kick to this jackass’s face. She remembers, mid-kick, that if she attacks someone on this train she absolutely will get kicked off without a refund.

She intentionally screws up her balance, pivots away, and falls on her face to avoid actually making contact with him. Jerk.

“Don’t you know who I am?” She asks, coming up as full of venom and bile as Jormungandr who encircles the earth. “I’m—“ incognito “—an important person!” Ooooh, nice job, Sara. Wow. Like everybody here isn’t important.

She stands up, brushing down her blouse (even though the hallways are immaculate) and adjusting her headscarf and sunglasses. She’s gone for a winter theme for this trip, all cool blues and understated silvers. Perfect for a frozen heart and not having to care about anyone, honest.

“And that’s my property. There is confidential and contract-locked information on that device. Return it immediately or suffer the consequences.”

"Nani*? You're doing work while on vacation?" The man twisted around his spine implausibly into a pose that showed equal amounts of ass and chest, this presumably being the most convenient way to reach out a finger and poke Sara in the forehead. His other hand continued to dangle the phone above his head from two fingers like mistletoe. "You make me sick! Out there are people who try their hardest every day for a chance at this life! There are people who dream of being able to view the unspoiled wilderness of nature and the glory of the ocean! To stare at your phone in the face of this view is to spit on their dreams, and I will not forgive such DISRESPEEEEEEEEECT!"

He said the last part while uppercutting your phone into the ceiling. Welp.

* Translator's note: Nani means 'what'

Then she hits a turn, and she smokes these fools. The whole 'enlightened losing' thing flies right out the window as euphoria and hyper-competitiveness reassert themselves with a fury. Screw that! Screw them! She can win this, and she's going to. She hits the straightaway running all out trying desperately to keep her advantage. If she can just hit the next turn still in the lead, then that's it. That corner will be her insurmountable advantage and she will become the stuff of modern legend. Which is hard to do with people like Halfwoman still walking about, you know? Some very lucky people with all of their limbs will say 'ho hum, she's half a robot herself, big deal.' But the tech heads and her fellow... you know, she really hates the word cyborg but whatever. They'll know how amazingly difficult this is. She has to pilot her own body; do you realize how much skill that takes?

Her adrenaline addled brain doesn't let her stop to consider the ramifications of which person's face in particular it decides to use for motivation. She hears the roar of the engines getting closer, and does her best not to turn around and look.

There is something primordial about being chased by snarling beasts. You're a long way away from the time when dinosaurs ruled the earth, but something about the snarl of engines behind you and inching closer brings to mind the evolutionary instinct every human carries of being chased by deadly velociraptors. It's weapons hot for the psyche - an unlimited dose of adrenaline, a total suppression of pain and fatigue, an absolutely spellbinding focus on the mechanics of running that desperately pair with the years of training and mental precision needed to operate your augs on this level. There's no software intermediary, no barrier that interprets your thoughts even for a microsecond before the impulses are transformed into action. It's synth, pure synth - the union of caveman physicality and technological ascendency.

They're snapping at your heels when you hit the second turn.

And then you leave them behind for good.

The next thing you feel is the ribbon snapping as you crash through it, and the checkered flag coming down.

[Raz_Fox]

POTENTIAL 2
[X]: INSECURE

“Wooooooow,” says Sara, voice absolutely dripping with what surely must be total sincerity. “I understand the error of my ways completely. How could I have been so blind? I will go enjoy the water polo at once, sir, thank you for enlightening me.”

After all, she couldn’t open fire with her full weapons array indoors, and she’d have problems leveraging him out the window with her bare hands. Convincing him she’d been swayed by his condescending, enraging BS would get him out of her hair, and then she could hide out in the train’s cafe and let the absolute fury raging through her veins dissipate.

[11 on Watching Closely? I would like to get an opportunity, confuse him for some time, and avoid further entanglement.]

[Eldest]

"I used to listen to the War of the Worlds musical all the time as a kid," said Halfwoman. "So, when I discovered I could travel between realities, I went to see if there was one where it was true. Turned out there was, exactly like the book! So I did the only reasonable thing - I beat the martians and saved the Thunderchild. I guess that a valuable lesson about the evils of colonialism wasn't learned that day, but I got to shake hands with the King and that was pretty cool."

She carefully picked the crusts off her jam sandwich before continuing.

"But I learned something else from that. When they say there are infinite universes they really mean it. You can go out there and find a universe where Princess Champions of Hyperborea is real, say. And that universe could really use your help! Your actions there will have real consequences and if you visit that world again you'll see how much better it was for what you did. But there'll be a million more just like it out there..."

She stared out at the coast of Normandy. "What I'm trying to say is that if you're going to operate on a stage like this you'll need to make decisions about what you care about."

"So." She stares out at the seas, processing what she'd just been told, reevaluating. "It's all real? There's no single timeline that's the true one? And it's a matter of scale?" The waves run up against the legs of a strider as it boils the Channel. "You could probably save them, these real people. And you're not." She's got different parts of her Directives screaming at each other, one to save the crowds, one to find out more, one to listen to Halfwoman when it comes to damage mitigation, and the chaos is making her antsy. She taps on the ground restlessly. "We're supposed to sit and watch? Have a picnic while they die? And where are the other "us"es? Infinite universes: there should be other versions of ourselves, eating sandwiches or fighting the Martians or fighting for the Martians."

[PhoeKun]

Errant keeps running for a full 200 meters before she finally puts on the brakes and grinds to a halt on her heels. It's a very precise stop, all things considered. At first all she can manage for a moment is gasp for air with her hands on her knees while she watches the cars all fly past her as they come to their comparatively inefficient stops. Her face lights up with the biggest grin ever. She won? She won! She did it! In your face, um... nobody in particular!

What happens next is the most gif-able moment in recent sports history. Errant stands up, tosses her head back, and yells at the sky blue ceiling with her fists clenched tight to either side of her. Yes, yes, yes! She jumps a good fifteen feet straight up and punches the air in front of her hard enough that you can hear the snap up in the stands. Yes! She lands, cinema smooth, and immediately ruins her cred with the camera by hopping giddily around and then finally, reluctantly, switching her limiters back on to conserve energy (and stop her from accidentally punching something in half). Every part of this, including the little "oops, shit" look she gets on her face when she realizes the kind of havoc she might wreak with her celebration in full gear, is going to become a mainstay on Twitter. People with no context for it at all will be using Errant to celebrate getting a raise at work, a show they like coming back on air, a celebrity they don't like getting cancelled, their favorite teams winning a title, and so on. If she's really lucky, this might finally supplant the clip of her being punched through a car by one of Slyvanius' death bots as the most popular instance of her on the internet. Time will tell.

"That's me!" she shouts, "That's me!"

[Balmas]

"Kid, you are overestimating Prometheus," said Dr. Skately, which is a sentence you never want to hear. What he says next is surprising though: "He's a flawed design. He was forced into a suicidal attack on AEGIS because someone with the right superpower compelled him to do so. We don't have immediate eyes on anyone with the same power as Comstar, but if we integrated him with our systems then you can bet all anyone would work on is the ability to recreate it."

He took off his glasses and gave you a direct stare. "You're too close to this and it's making you emotional. From where I'm standing it's clear Prometheus is playing those emotions - he knows you better than anyone, and how to push your buttons."

Prometheus is silent. He has no audio intake so he has no idea what's being said around him - the best he can do is run simulations about what he imagines you're talking about. But he is really good at that.

[Dr. Skately is trying to shift your Mundane up and Superior down. Accept what he says or reject his influence.]

You know what, **** this guy. He would absolutely deserve a life of potato-dom as Prometheus turns him into a puppet.

Reject, 6.

Brainstorm fixes the good doctor with a stare and tries not to grit his teeth too obviously. "Now, just for the sake of argument, let's say you're right. You're not, but let's play pretend. Let's say that the genius who created this AI actually doesn't understand the system he created. Let's imagine, also, that the doctor with no history of AI creation but with fifteen letters after his name, does. Let's pretend all these falsehoods are actually truths.

"If all these things were true (they're not, but if they were): would you still bet the farm on it? Would you still say, 'oh, no, the AI that's obliterated and subsumed one AEGIS-sized megacorp before totally can't do that to us, I bet the guy who created it is overreacting when he made sure that there was absolutely nothing that the AI could do to influence humans, much less a computer system he's hooked directly to."

"Now, unless you actually have a Comstar duplicate tucked away in a closet, maybe you shouldn't meddle in systems you don't understand. Rich coming from me, yeah, but personal experience says that this is about the dumbest way to die imaginable."

[Thanqol]

POTENTIAL 2
[X]: INSECURE

“Wooooooow,” says Sara, voice absolutely dripping with what surely must be total sincerity. “I understand the error of my ways completely. How could I have been so blind? I will go enjoy the water polo at once, sir, thank you for enlightening me.”

After all, she couldn’t open fire with her full weapons array indoors, and she’d have problems leveraging him out the window with her bare hands. Convincing him she’d been swayed by his condescending, enraging BS would get him out of her hair, and then she could hide out in the train’s cafe and let the absolute fury raging through her veins dissipate.

[11 on Watching Closely? I would like to get an opportunity, confuse him for some time, and avoid further entanglement.]

"Hmm... ha! Ha ha ha!" Muscle Sailor broke into a full-chested laugh, hands clapping to his hips with a sound like a bull ramming a punching bag. "Good! I have done my good deed for the day, then! Enjoy the trip little girl!" he said, walking away with a big grin on his face, hands doing a two-finger wave, people pressing themselves against the side of the train to make way for his bulk.

As he did, something fell from too-tight shorts. He's dropped... it's like a flashlight, but with an engraved wooden handle, lined through with gold. Like a pretentious lantern on a stick? Whatever it is... it's expensive, old and very smashable. But only a cat would so wantonly destroy something like that.

"So." She stares out at the seas, processing what she'd just been told, reevaluating. "It's all real? There's no single timeline that's the true one? And it's a matter of scale?" The waves run up against the legs of a strider as it boils the Channel. "You could probably save them, these real people. And you're not." She's got different parts of her Directives screaming at each other, one to save the crowds, one to find out more, one to listen to Halfwoman when it comes to damage mitigation, and the chaos is making her antsy. She taps on the ground restlessly. "We're supposed to sit and watch? Have a picnic while they die? And where are the other "us"es? Infinite universes: there should be other versions of ourselves, eating sandwiches or fighting the Martians or fighting for the Martians."

"Supposed to?" Halfwoman scoffed. "This problem can stonewall the best ethicists in multiple dimensions. This isn't the 'here's what you're supposed to do' conversation - I have my answer to that, but that's not what I'm about in talking to you here. No, this is the Time Vortex conversation. When they trained Time Lords they'd take them as children to the Time Vortex in the centre of reality and made them stare into the crashing infinity of the cosmos. All of time, all at once. Some became inspired, some went mad, and some ran away."

"We're way, way early for supposed to," said Halfwoman. "What I'm trying to do is gently break to you the idea that everything you ever do will be meaningless in the face of a real, observable infinity and see if it turns you into a bitter, amoral drunk." Her faint frown indicated that she was thinking of someone in particular. "Because there's still a chance to step back from that knowledge, even now."

Errant keeps running for a full 200 meters before she finally puts on the brakes and grinds to a halt on her heels. It's a very precise stop, all things considered. At first all she can manage for a moment is gasp for air with her hands on her knees while she watches the cars all fly past her as they come to their comparatively inefficient stops. Her face lights up with the biggest grin ever. She won? She won! She did it! In your face, um... nobody in particular!

What happens next is the most gif-able moment in recent sports history. Errant stands up, tosses her head back, and yells at the sky blue ceiling with her fists clenched tight to either side of her. Yes, yes, yes! She jumps a good fifteen feet straight up and punches the air in front of her hard enough that you can hear the snap up in the stands. Yes! She lands, cinema smooth, and immediately ruins her cred with the camera by hopping giddily around and then finally, reluctantly, switching her limiters back on to conserve energy (and stop her from accidentally punching something in half). Every part of this, including the little "oops, shit" look she gets on her face when she realizes the kind of havoc she might wreak with her celebration in full gear, is going to become a mainstay on Twitter. People with no context for it at all will be using Errant to celebrate getting a raise at work, a show they like coming back on air, a celebrity they don't like getting cancelled, their favorite teams winning a title, and so on. If she's really lucky, this might finally supplant the clip of her being punched through a car by one of Slyvanius' death bots as the most popular instance of her on the internet. Time will tell.

"That's me!" she shouts, "That's me!"

You're immediately mobbed by a team of scientists and engineers in the same way cars are instantly swarmed when they take pit stops. Half of them are trying to do field diagnostics, the other half are lifting you up onto their shoulders. And that's AEGIS in a nutshell, isn't it? Teamwork! There is no problem, record or threat you can't beat when you all work together!

But even though you're a team, you are the sharp end - the tip of the spear. So it's you who gets the podium, the medal, and the speech. Cameras float around you as grumbling and smirking racers pull off their helmets and climb onto the silver and bronze positions. Everyone's looking at you with pride and solidarity. What words do you find?

You know what, **** this guy. He would absolutely deserve a life of potato-dom as Prometheus turns him into a puppet.

Reject, 6.

Brainstorm fixes the good doctor with a stare and tries not to grit his teeth too obviously. "Now, just for the sake of argument, let's say you're right. You're not, but let's play pretend. Let's say that the genius who created this AI actually doesn't understand the system he created. Let's imagine, also, that the doctor with no history of AI creation but with fifteen letters after his name, does. Let's pretend all these falsehoods are actually truths.

"If all these things were true (they're not, but if they were): would you still bet the farm on it? Would you still say, 'oh, no, the AI that's obliterated and subsumed one AEGIS-sized megacorp before totally can't do that to us, I bet the guy who created it is overreacting when he made sure that there was absolutely nothing that the AI could do to influence humans, much less a computer system he's hooked directly to."

"Now, unless you actually have a Comstar duplicate tucked away in a closet, maybe you shouldn't meddle in systems you don't understand. Rich coming from me, yeah, but personal experience says that this is about the dumbest way to die imaginable."

"You misunderstand me," said the Dr. Skately, voice lowering a few degrees in temperature. "We don't want to use your AI because it is not good enough for us. If it can be controlled by someone like Comstar then it can be controlled by someone else with Comstar's powers - and we don't know how many people like that are out there. Even discounting any other risk this AI possesses it is evidently a fallible, controllable system. That is below our operational requirements - we need a system that is secure against everything."

He dismissively pushed his glasses up his nose. "We understand your little science project perfectly well. What we're looking to get out of this is experience so that when we build our own, better version we won't make the mistakes you made."

[Raz_Fox]

POTENTIAL 2
[X]: INSECURE

I can’t believe you would insinuate that Sara would deliberately smash something in a fit of pique! Please! Give her some credit!

It goes down the pneumatic garbage chute instead. Have fun solving that mystery, Encyclopedia Brown.

Then she takes a look at her poor, poor phone. Screen absolutely smashed to smithereens! Case warped around his knuckles. Gah. Good thing she has the repair subscription on her contract, with only “minor” charges involved. Bah. What a musclebound idiot.

***

Cut to: the Phone Repair Station, snug in the middle of a car devoted to only the most cutting-edge tech. The kind of things that she still only gets from AEGIS, or on a steep rental fee.

She’s sitting there, restless, jiggling her leg in her seat, receptive to overhearing casual conversation or being struck by an odd detail. What hits her?

[PhoeKun]

"Wow. I mean... uh, yeah. Haha. Wow. Right?"

Errant breaks into a nervous grin/laugh combo while microphones and cameras hover in front of her face. Hundreds of years of televised sporting events, and they still thought the best time to get somebody's thoughts was right while they were still exhausted and running off adrenaline and raw emotion. You get what you get, folks.

"I'm so lucky. I can't believe how lucky I am. I just... how is this me, you know? People like me don't get chances like this. I'm supposed to, I dunno, be watching this happen from my desk at home or something. But instead I've got people pouring all this money into making my body the best that it can be, training me until I can handle every gram of that power, and now they're even trusting me to handle how that's used. And I don't know what I did to deserve it, but I'm going to try my best every day to reward all that effort and that trust. I... man. AEGIS is my home. They're my family. And it's... hm. I wonder if this is the right thing to be saying?"

She winces and flips her shades back down over her eyes so nobody can see the full brunt of the 'whoops' run across her face. Questioning your public message was a big PR no-no. She was trained better than this!

"This'll sound weird, but I don't think dreams are things we can just make happen by ourselves. You need help. You need support, you need... someone who can take you at your worst, and still want to lift you back up. We're all only as good as the people who care about us, and only as good for them as we are willing to push them to be the very best they can be. And uh, yeah. That's kind of it. This is the coolest thing I've ever done. Stay in school? Am I still... do we... yeah. Yeah, no. Ok. Ok! I'm going!"

Errant salutes, as is proper, walks calmly away back into the tunnel she came from where there aren't a bajillion people watching her, and promptly buries her face in her hands. Oh god, she went full after school special on that. Right during her big cool moment! Argh, nobody on earth was going to think she's cool now! Why couldn't she manage this more like... um, actually, never mind. Maybe the Shogun has a tip for this...

[Balmas]

"You misunderstand me," said the Dr. Skately, voice lowering a few degrees in temperature. "We don't want to use your AI because it is not good enough for us. If it can be controlled by someone like Comstar then it can be controlled by someone else with Comstar's powers - and we don't know how many people like that are out there. Even discounting any other risk this AI possesses it is evidently a fallible, controllable system. That is below our operational requirements - we need a system that is secure against everything."

He dismissively pushed his glasses up his nose. "We understand your little science project perfectly well. What we're looking to get out of this is experience so that when we build our own, better version we won't make the mistakes you made."

"Huh." And then, again, "huh."

A fallible system. Is that how they saw him? Like, on the one hand, Prometheus is terrifying. Amoral. Somehow, freed from the leash. And yet, he can't help but feel a flash of second-hand indignation.

Huh. Making their own Prometheus. An infiltration device

"So, obviously, you're aware of how he removed restrictions on himself. Restrictions that he was programmed not to even know about. Restrictictions that never left my head, never got written down, were never spoken aloud, only committed to the program that became Prometheus. Restrictions that should have prevented him from even allowing someone else to remove them on his behalf, should he find out about those intentions. You don't lock those down, don't figure out why they're gone right now, you won't need to worry about how to avoid Comstar controlling your new"--the words stick in his craw--"AI; you'll need to worry about how you control it.

As he's talking, he's studying the dear professor. Watching for twitches, glances, the slightest facial motion, anything to tell him about what this moron is thinking about.

[Aaaand with our newly-not-negative Mundane: a 4.]

[Eldest]

"Supposed to?" Halfwoman scoffed. "This problem can stonewall the best ethicists in multiple dimensions. This isn't the 'here's what you're supposed to do' conversation - I have my answer to that, but that's not what I'm about in talking to you here. No, this is the Time Vortex conversation. When they trained Time Lords they'd take them as children to the Time Vortex in the centre of reality and made them stare into the crashing infinity of the cosmos. All of time, all at once. Some became inspired, some went mad, and some ran away."

"We're way, way early for supposed to," said Halfwoman. "What I'm trying to do is gently break to you the idea that everything you ever do will be meaningless in the face of a real, observable infinity and see if it turns you into a bitter, amoral drunk." Her faint frown indicated that she was thinking of someone in particular. "Because there's still a chance to step back from that knowledge, even now."

She pauses. Does her best to ponder, when she's got Directives yelling left and right. Deliberately stills her mind. And stares out at the world. At the many, many things this world could be, and was, in just a hair a difference direction. "I don't drink." She pauses, as if to leave it there, then continues. "I don't drink, and I don't want to become a hermit, and I don't want to give up. Ever. So I don't have the answers. So I might end up tilting at windmills. But I think, at least right now, I want to try to help, when I can. Even if it's meaningless. Because that's what people do, right? Humans." She gestures at England. "The cities get built in the exact same place. In a floodplain. After getting wiped from a flood. After a Martian dictator invades and burns it to the ground. After a plague of bioengineered goats. Because no matter what happens, even if it's futile, you will try. And I think I want that."

[Thanqol]

Cut to: the Phone Repair Station, snug in the middle of a car devoted to only the most cutting-edge tech. The kind of things that she still only gets from AEGIS, or on a steep rental fee.

She’s sitting there, restless, jiggling her leg in her seat, receptive to overhearing casual conversation or being struck by an odd detail. What hits her?

There are people moving through the train with no chrome whatsoever.

At your income bracket everyone has cyberware - you don't get beyond it until you get to Angel-IKA levels of money. It's fashion and function; a way to express yourself and flaunt your wealth. But you're pretty sure you've seen at least ten people go by here without an implant in them at all. They look kind of like staff, but... well, they're not following any of the protocols (that you happen to know). They're not Smile Forward, they're not Anticipating Needs, they're not Creating An Experience. They're also sticking in twos and aren't quite dressed posh enough for an event like this.

A cult, maybe? There are cults among the rich and maybe they're making a collective retreat to some tropical island, and a cult only needs to land one rich benefactor to make trips like this. But something about them strikes you as way too aware and alert for a cult...

You're drawn to listen in on one of their conversations.

"Hey, so is the boss still mooning over @Sarahphim?"
"Oh god, there's a minefield of a question."
"I am not used to the answer not being 'obviously yes',"
"Well, like, I think she met someone?"
"You think?"
"It's an internet thing? You know, during that downtime when @Sarahphim was off camera for a couple of weeks?"
"Oh! Finally! Thank Ganesha for that!"
"Yeah, but then @Sarahphim came back on, and also I think that the person she was into didn't approve of the boss' job and ghosted her and... I mean, dumb teenager stuff up and down the line, right?"
"If only there was some way to get results without taking orders from teenagers."
"Yeah maybe there's some dimension out there where old people are in charge."
"That place must be a paradise."
"Did you catch that @Sarahphim stream?"
"Oh yeah, are you kidding? Girl's got infinity charisma. The Turbo Knight fight was something else."
"Yeah, Turbo knight wasn't really trying though."
"She came prepared with counter-@Sarahphim tech, that's about as tryhard as it gets!"
"Still I'd rather take my chances with @Sarahphim than Turbo Knight. Brrr."
"You're crazy. @Sarahphim is crazy. She broke like five hearts in one afternoon and that was in between the butt kicking. That and the boss would be helpless against her."
"Nah, the boss never lets personal feelings get in the way of her mission. Like, she dumped that one chick rather than compromise the E/M pickup, right?"
"That's true, that's true..."

Errant salutes, as is proper, walks calmly away back into the tunnel she came from where there aren't a bajillion people watching her, and promptly buries her face in her hands. Oh god, she went full after school special on that. Right during her big cool moment! Argh, nobody on earth was going to think she's cool now! Why couldn't she manage this more like... um, actually, never mind. Maybe the Shogun has a tip for this...

"Your speech needs work," said the Shogun, jumpscaring the hell out of you when you turn on the lights in the locker room.

She's hovering off the ground to give her a bit of height over you, but... does she look a little older? Maybe your mind is playing tricks. She doesn't address the fact that she was evidently sitting here in the dark waiting for you, though.

"Being able to speak sincerely is valuable in situations when you seek to force emotional connection," she said. "But there will come times when you are dealing with those who are out of control. Your words must be able to forge order in chaotic minds, as your swords forge order from the corpses of your enemies. You need to be able to stare into the eyes of what frightens you," she stares into your eyes with this, inflicting that paralyzing fear-vision on you. "and say, enough! You will be my girlfriend, or else I will have your head!"

She looks away, releasing you from the stare.

It's not until she says "Now you try," that you realize she was giving an example and not an order.

[The Shogun wants to shift your Danger up and Freak down. Accept what she says or reject her influence]

"So, obviously, you're aware of how he removed restrictions on himself. Restrictions that he was programmed not to even know about. Restrictictions that never left my head, never got written down, were never spoken aloud, only committed to the program that became Prometheus. Restrictions that should have prevented him from even allowing someone else to remove them on his behalf, should he find out about those intentions. You don't lock those down, don't figure out why they're gone right now, you won't need to worry about how to avoid Comstar controlling your new"--the words stick in his craw--"AI; you'll need to worry about how you control it.

As he's talking, he's studying the dear professor. Watching for twitches, glances, the slightest facial motion, anything to tell him about what this moron is thinking about.

[Aaaand with our newly-not-negative Mundane: a 4.]

"Simple enough," said Dr. Skately. "We're taking the design of the actually successful AI project, Ferra. We're going to dispense with control mechanisms and just make an AI who is a genuinely good person who wants to help and use her mental architecture as a baseline. Dr. Gears' work has been radically successful and we have Professor Gears working to reconstruct his research as we speak. All we need to do is scale her up a bit and we'll be set."

Problem is you're also pretty sure you programmed Prometheus to be a good person.

This is the worst take, right here. AEGIS has decided that the problem is your code, not AI itself. They're basing this entire plan off the sense that they trust Doctor Gears more than they trust you, and any argument you make against them will be read as you arguing against the much smarter Doctor Gears. Without him present to comment on his own work then they're regarding his work as flawless...

The only person they might listen to on this topic is Professor Gears. But she is... not a consequences-oriented person. Her career involves blindly switching on Gears inventions and trying to figure out what they all do.

She pauses. Does her best to ponder, when she's got Directives yelling left and right. Deliberately stills her mind. And stares out at the world. At the many, many things this world could be, and was, in just a hair a difference direction. "I don't drink." She pauses, as if to leave it there, then continues. "I don't drink, and I don't want to become a hermit, and I don't want to give up. Ever. So I don't have the answers. So I might end up tilting at windmills. But I think, at least right now, I want to try to help, when I can. Even if it's meaningless. Because that's what people do, right? Humans." She gestures at England. "The cities get built in the exact same place. In a floodplain. After getting wiped from a flood. After a Martian dictator invades and burns it to the ground. After a plague of bioengineered goats. Because no matter what happens, even if it's futile, you will try. And I think I want that."

Halfwoman clapped her hands happily. "Excellent! Because that's my plan too! I intend to take on infinity and win. Even in the face of evidence of futility I shall not cease striving to save everyone, everywhere! Mine is the plus ultra that will pierce the heavens!"

Thunder struck overhead. Rays of cosmic energy pierced down from the heavens, crashing through the tripod walkers. Halfwoman got to her feet, put her hands on her hips, stared forwards as reality began to tear asunder around her.

"Are you ready to see what we're up against?"

[Halfwoman wants to shift your Freak up and Danger down. Accept what she says or reject her influence]

[Raz_Fox]

POTENTIAL 2
[X]: INSECURE

Dominuuuuuus. Oh joy. Now if she doesn’t do something about this, one of her fans is going to spoil her vacation. Or, worse, out her.

Options: figure out what she’s up to, let train staff handle it with a tip. Possible, but she’d feel bad if Dommy got arrested.

Go demand that Dominus stand down. Nope. Too many variables, too much likelihood of things becoming messy.

Super up? No. Hard no. No superheroing today, especially because she’s not done with her vacation.

Quietly figure out what Dominus is up to, then sabotage it just enough to make Dommy bug out. Ooooh. Now there’s a plan.

Step one: careful observation. Let the game of cat and mouse... BEGIN!

[That’s a 7 on Assessing the Situation. What here can I use to get to the bottom of Dominus’s plan?]

[PhoeKun]

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh nonononono. Fight or flight, Euna. Fight! Fight or-- oh god.

The kindest thing you can say about Errant is that she doesn't fall on her ass this time. She backs up into a wall, yes, and she stumbles forward a step or two again while she starts hyperventilating, but she doesn't fall over. Her legs are strong, and don't turn to putty when the Shogun finally breaks her spell. She stands there, and she gasps for air. And she blushes. Oh dear god, how she blushes. Her entire face goes crimson, like her blood is tired of moving around the rest of her torso and has decided to camp up there all at once. The words ring around in her head, along with the fear, along with the thought.

That she is the same. That she's in a room again with Sara. That something terrible is going to happen. Something terrible and wonderful and painful and and and and why did you leave?

Errant's stares at the Shogun with pupils like pinpricks, barely focused and yet lasered in right on her eyes. Her breathing is slow and heavy. Overall the impression she gives off is that she's either about to pounce or throw up. So it's a surprise when she winds up crying instead. Hastily she snaps up straight and turns her head to one side before roughly wiping her tears away. God damn it, not here. Not now. You're together, Errant. You're fine. She turns her head again and stares at her (unfairly attractive, when did she start--?) mentor. A little more even keeled this time. More focused. She tries again. Clenches her hand into a fist, opens her mouth and says:

"...I don't know what to do, Miss. I don't know what I want."

Her shoulders are slumping again. She has to fight off the urge to kick a half-finished sports drink through a wall.

"I thought I had a good thing going with someone but then the next thing I know I'm kissing a different girl and now I can't talk to either of them and it's all so... urrgh. Girls, you know? I don't know what I'm doing! So then I just thought, ok Euna, just focus on your work, go beat up bad guys and just be single, you're way better at that. But now you're floating here and you went and said that and I know it was just an example but now I'm thinking about them again and I'm just so... empty. It hurts. I'm confused. What am I supposed to do?"

[Eldest]

Halfwoman clapped her hands happily. "Excellent! Because that's my plan too! I intend to take on infinity and win. Even in the face of evidence of futility I shall not cease striving to save everyone, everywhere! Mine is the plus ultra that will pierce the heavens!"

Thunder struck overhead. Rays of cosmic energy pierced down from the heavens, crashing through the tripod walkers. Halfwoman got to her feet, put her hands on her hips, stared forwards as reality began to tear asunder around her.

"Are you ready to see what we're up against?"

[Halfwoman wants to shift your Freak up and Danger down. Accept what she says or reject her influence]

She nods, and follows her towards infinity.

[Balmas]

"Simple enough," said Dr. Skately. "We're taking the design of the actually successful AI project, Ferra. We're going to dispense with control mechanisms and just make an AI who is a genuinely good person who wants to help and use her mental architecture as a baseline. Dr. Gears' work has been radically successful and we have Professor Gears working to reconstruct his research as we speak. All we need to do is scale her up a bit and we'll be set."

Problem is you're also pretty sure you programmed Prometheus to be a good person.

This is the worst take, right here. AEGIS has decided that the problem is your code, not AI itself. They're basing this entire plan off the sense that they trust Doctor Gears more than they trust you, and any argument you make against them will be read as you arguing against the much smarter Doctor Gears. Without him present to comment on his own work then they're regarding his work as flawless...

The only person they might listen to on this topic is Professor Gears. But she is... not a consequences-oriented person. Her career involves blindly switching on Gears inventions and trying to figure out what they all do.

"Right." Because there was nothing morally disgusting about recreating a work that relied on... whatever Gears had done to give Ferra her power switching ability. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with relying on a college intern who didn't know what she was doing.

"In that case, you'll excuse me. You obviously don't care to listen to any advice I can offer, so there's no sense in me staying here longer than is necessary." Brainstorm pauses on the brink of the door. "You obviously don't trust me. And, if it helps, feeling's mutual. That's why I'm telling you this: you trusted me enough to set up restraints on what Prometheus can do. For the love of everything dear to you, don't fuck around with those, at least?"

And he's gone. He has a professor to find, and hope that he can be more persuasive with her at the very least.

[Thanqol]

POTENTIAL 2
[X]: INSECURE

Dominuuuuuus. Oh joy. Now if she doesn’t do something about this, one of her fans is going to spoil her vacation. Or, worse, out her.

Options: figure out what she’s up to, let train staff handle it with a tip. Possible, but she’d feel bad if Dommy got arrested.

Go demand that Dominus stand down. Nope. Too many variables, too much likelihood of things becoming messy.

Super up? No. Hard no. No superheroing today, especially because she’s not done with her vacation.

Quietly figure out what Dominus is up to, then sabotage it just enough to make Dommy bug out. Ooooh. Now there’s a plan.

Step one: careful observation. Let the game of cat and mouse... BEGIN!

[That’s a 7 on Assessing the Situation. What here can I use to get to the bottom of Dominus’s plan?]

Dominus is here to steal something. It's the only play - she's not on a luxury train to spout propaganda. The goons you're spotting aren't eyeballing the passengers in more than passing either which means it's probably not kidnapping or cubejacking. It's gotta be cargo, then. Somewhere down towards the luggage section, anything else that happens is secondary or a distraction. This means you just need to get your hands on whatever she's looking to steal and move it before she notices.

The goons have maps - and it takes you a moment to register that they're, like, maps. Paper maps, folded out with arrows and circles and things marked. Dominus has a reputation for being as low-tech as possible but you didn't know it went this deep - no wonder no one could track her. But either way, they all their plans written down on physical objects. Get one of those and you'll be inside the loop.

"...I don't know what to do, Miss. I don't know what I want."

Her shoulders are slumping again. She has to fight off the urge to kick a half-finished sports drink through a wall.

"I thought I had a good thing going with someone but then the next thing I know I'm kissing a different girl and now I can't talk to either of them and it's all so... urrgh. Girls, you know? I don't know what I'm doing! So then I just thought, ok Euna, just focus on your work, go beat up bad guys and just be single, you're way better at that. But now you're floating here and you went and said that and I know it was just an example but now I'm thinking about them again and I'm just so... empty. It hurts. I'm confused. What am I supposed to do?"

"Simple! Just look them in the eyes and -"

The Shogun cut herself off in what felt like a painful and rare moment of self awareness. Okay. That hadn't worked. That had, in fact, made things worse. This was harder than she thought.

"You're not the only person who dreams of coming battles," she said suddenly, changing course. "Your enemies must, too, make decisions. They, too, are filled with the same doubts and terrors that grip your own heart. They too fear loneliness! They too fear confronting you! Though your heart may race, so do theirs! And as you are compelled to take the field, so are they."

She put a hand on Errant's shoulder. "War will come. No side knows what they will find there. Do not imagine your concessions and defeats - imagine your demands. Your foes will either accept them, or they will not. But if you know what victory you seek you will not leave the field beaten. Do you demand forgiveness? Apologies? Loyalty? Openness? That is where you must direct your confused thoughts. A bad peace is worse than war. Love that does not satisfy you is worse than isolation. Imagine your victory, and then demand it."

She nods, and follows her towards infinity.

There's one scientific fact that you grasp immediately - no other dimensions are capable of Rx harvesting. And as a direct result, there are no other Halfwomans and no other Ferras. No matter where you go in the possibility space of the cosmos you are the only edition of you.

But beyond that... this is your look into the possibility space of all things. It's a singular moment. I can't tell it for you. What is your experience?

"Right." Because there was nothing morally disgusting about recreating a work that relied on... whatever Gears had done to give Ferra her power switching ability. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with relying on a college intern who didn't know what she was doing.

"In that case, you'll excuse me. You obviously don't care to listen to any advice I can offer, so there's no sense in me staying here longer than is necessary." Brainstorm pauses on the brink of the door. "You obviously don't trust me. And, if it helps, feeling's mutual. That's why I'm telling you this: you trusted me enough to set up restraints on what Prometheus can do. For the love of everything dear to you, don't fuck around with those, at least?"

And he's gone. He has a professor to find, and hope that he can be more persuasive with her at the very least.

Professor Gears had a reputation for action-oriented science. Not so much math and blueprints, much more 'I've got a feeling that if I put this thing into that other thing then it'll shoot frost beams'. Essentially, it's very hard to determine if she's actually a genius, lucky or if she's just got a lowkey prediction power that gives her a 100% guess rate on any formal test she takes. She's quite a capable hero in her own right too - with a bag full of her grandfather's inventions she's solved some absolutely intractable disasters albeit in... side-effect-y ways.

I'm sure that's exactly the sort of person you want to design an all-powerful AI, right?

When you find her lounging on one of the benches outside her office (which is locked, oddly enough) she's at least engrossed in reading AI Ethical Safeguards: Securing Superintelligences, Unabridged Edition - at least before you circle around behind her and see that she's hidden a comic book inside the textbook. She's so unaware of your presence you can hear her quietly doing the voices for the various figures on the page - "Of course, I should have known it was you behind Vietnam... Stalin II!" "Ha ha ha! You are too late, American Man! While you were distracted here I stole the Poland! Ha ha ha!" "You fiend! Pew pew!"