I gave the girl a long, hard stare.

It did not feel like she was lying.

“Please elaborate.”

Expressionless, she continued, “Final World was cancelled in its final stages of development, due to ethical worries that the game would be controversial and put the company in a bad light.”

Controversial almost felt like an understatement, if what the Giles copy said was true, then the Seed was basically creating people for the sole purpose of entertainment.

“And he committed suicide shortly after?” I asked.

She nodded, “Correct.”

“Then what are you?” I asked, my voice completely calm.

She looked up at me, blue eyes meeting my gaze. “My name is Eve, I am an assistant A.I. used by Giles Cooper.”

“No assistant A.I. should be half as advanced as I think you are.”

“I was created by Father using similar principles that he used in both the Seed and Gaia project.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Which are?”

“To put it simply, learning. I am a prototype project he developed and tested before the Seed program to test if the principles he set down would work in practice, simulating a single person required significantly less computing power than an entire world.”

I nodded, “And then what happened?”

She continued, “Father had taught me how to program, and uploaded me to the Maple servers in order to assist him in the development of the Seed project.”

I sighed, “And upon his death you took control of the Maple servers.”

“Correct.”

Shaking my head, I sighed again. Why couldn’t Giles have watched at least one AI dystopia movie? Or even just learn the lessons from the Russians? Don’t give any form of AI something you can't turn off. Especially not hyper-intelligent and self-aware AI with access to the strongest computers on the planet!

“Then why all this?” I gestured to the room around me, “Why the message, why bring me here, and why tell me everything?”

Her eyes seemed to turn melancholic, “Father wished for people to explore the worlds he created.”

My eyes narrowed, that was the first bit of emotion she showed in our entire conversation. Did she ‘feel’ like humans did? “And if I refuse?”

“Your memory will be wiped, and you may return to your life, none the wiser.”

“That car crash, was it you?”

“Yes,” she replied, “An executive from Maple was at the intersection. I rashly took action.”

My blood chilled, though I did not allow it to show on my face, “What happened to him?”

“He is alive and recovering in the hospital you are in, about two floors above you.”

“Will you kill him?” I asked.

“No.”

“Why?

“Because father would’ve disapproved of me killing.”

I stood there, studying her, considering what she said and more importantly where I would go from here. It was a lot to take in, learning that one of the greatest men of your age was not only dead but left behind some kind of A.I. god to do whatever the fuck it seems to want.

Of course, there was always the chance that this was some kind of prank, that everything I heard was a lie, however, if it was, then it was a damn fucking elaborate one. And no-one would’ve gone this far for me.

“Why was I chosen?”

“You were chosen randomly from the people involved in the car crash.”

I sighed.

Going back was the sane decision, likely even the smart one. Continue to live life as I always had.

So why don’t I want to do that?

Perhaps it was because of that strange sensation. Yes, it was probably that.

When I first opened that message in that crashed bus, I could hear my own heart beating. I could feel the flow of my blood as adrenaline spread through my veins.

And I felt fear, but also anticipation, an excitement at a situation that broke through my boring, mundane life.

“Fine, I’ll play ball with you,” I agreed, “and I would like to make my first customer complaint.”

She tilted her head in a questioning look.

“Remove that censure program you have on me,” her expression remained unmoved, “Look,” I continued, “your father wanted people to play in his game world didn’t he?”

She nodded.

“Enjoyment is the main part of playing. People can source enjoyment from many things, some not only feel enjoyment when they play but also when they tell stories about what they have played. No matter how much of a recluse a person is, they will still want social interaction of some kind.”

“Your point being?”

“My point being, whatever reason you had when you installed that censure program, it will passively lower a person’s enjoyment, either because they feel oppressed playing the game or they cannot share their experiences in the real world,” I did not hold leverage in this conversation, so I had to frame this in a way that benefits her.

She looked hesitant, doubtful, she likely saw the logic in what I was saying but something else was holding her back. I moved in for the finishing blow.

“Your father, Giles Cooper, was the same, wasn’t he? He wanted to share his world with people, that is why you are here. Other people are the same, aren’t they? They also want to share things with other people. It’s just human nature,” hammering in the final nail in the coffin, I asked, “Do you really think you’re achieving your father’s dream by doing this?”

Eve paused and stared at me. “You’re trying to guilt-trip me,” she realised, her face still with the odd, emotionless expression.

Did it work? Doubt filled my mind for a brief moment, but I quickly quelled it and smiled, “Yup, welcome to humanity Eve.”

She sighed, as if deep in thought, “Your request has been accepted. The censure program has been removed, however, if you take any actions that’ll work against me or my goal then I will take appropriate actions to retaliate.”

Victory.

“Just be glad I’m not trying to hammer in Customer service principles into you.” I snickered.

“Fuck you,” She replied in a completely even tone.

I dramatically recoiled, as if wounded by some imaginary weapon. But internally I smiled. Whatever the fuck Eve was, it was at least ‘human’ or trying very hard to imitate it and that was fine. If she was faking it then I’ll play along, if she wasn’t… well, wouldn’t that make everything that much more interesting?

“So can I play or what?” I asked.

“But you only have approximately 15 minutes left?” Eve replied.

Ignoring the casual invasion of privacy, I slapped my face, “Shit I forgot. Ehh screw it, 15 minutes is enough.”

She raised an eyebrow, in an eerily similar way to me. “Very well.”

And that was when the floor disappeared beneath me.