Episode 10. AI and Heart (1)
“Hey, old man.”
“...Yeah.”
“I know you're about to get into something important, but first...”
In the pitch-black room, where not even a sliver of light seeped through the window, Claire cautiously opened her mouth. Aiden, his eyes unaccustomed to the darkness, scanned his surroundings and found a chair to sit on. But Claire just lowered her head slightly, not moving her feet.
She made the holy spirit at the tip of her staff emit a marble-like white glow, illuminating her face as she spoke.
“Can I go to sleep first?”
Her face, free of dark circles, looked utterly exhausted. Aiden and the captured Sephirah let out a faint chuckle.
“Doesn't matter to me.”
“What? So you wanted me to stick around? Even though you don't know if I'm a player or not.”
“Well, you said you would tell me, so... um...”
Claire glanced at Aiden's reaction and realized she'd misunderstood a bit. What to say? She'd thought she had to stay put through the whole conversation, even if she ended up zoning out like a kid trailing adults, unable to keep up.
But hearing she could go was such a relief.
“A-anyway... sorry, but I'm heading in first...”
“It's fine. I might've asked you to leave anyway.”
“What. No need to ask permission then.”
Claire squinted her sleepy eyes. Being so polite had been pointless.
“You still remember you're gonna tell me everything, right?”
“Of course.”
“Well, if anything weird happens, you can wake me up.”
“Probably won't be necessary.”
“You dragged me into your personal stuff, so you're on babysitting duty for a bit.”
“...That was the plan.”
“Good enough.”
With assurances for all her worries, Claire finally smiled. Sephirah—the player—watching with curious eyes like she'd spotted something novel? Not worth a thought.
“Huh? Won't you wake me if I try to run?”
“Hah...”
Aiden clamped a hand over Sephirah's mouth as she kept piping up. Back in their hideout with the windows covered, it was better to watch her mouth than her hands now.
“See you tomorrow.”
“I wake up and one of you is dead, right?”
“No chance...”
“Fine then... really going now...”
Creeeak.
Claire shuffled out the door, body swaying. Unlike yesterday, no clinging or stalling—just pure fatigue from the day.
“Mmph.”
With only familiar faces left, Sephirah relaxed further and mumbled in protest, her mouth sealed. She gripped Aiden's arm, trying to pry it off. But she failed. Her push was so weak, he didn't even need to resist.
Maybe as a player mage, she rarely used her body.
As Sephirah puffed her cheeks and raised her wand to smack his arm, Aiden released her on his own.
“Puha, heh.”
Freed, Sephirah gasped for air, slowly calming. Hand on her chest, deep breath in, light exhale out. All he'd done was cover her mouth—why act like she'd cheated death?
“I hate anything blocking my breath, even a little.”
So she claimed. He'd never asked.
“Finally, time for a proper talk.”
“Hah... with my current stats, it's a bit much...”
“Better not think about running.”
“I know, I know. You'd chase me down... Better than more suspicion, I guess.”
In the spot he'd tracked her to, Sephirah finally abandoned escape. He'd hunted and cornered her. She'd fled desperately. But they weren't enemies.
“Yeah, nice to meet ya. First time seeing just us two like this.”
“First time meeting in a normal spot, period.”
“...Players don't chat in proper places much.”
Not casually, face-to-face, seated like this.
“Lucky you. Finally get that 'chat' with the guy.”
“I keep saying, no hidden meaning. Just a talk.”
“What about my broken arm?”
“To subdue you.”
“Unbelievable.”
Aiden lit the room's lamp, pondering where to start. So many questions, too many—hard to pick.
Asking “What are you?” wouldn't fly; no instant answers.
Plenty of time. Slow questions, slow answers.
“Don't you have questions too? I still see that shocked face when you were just posturing.”
“Not none... actually, tons. Piled up today.”
“I'll answer what I can.”
“For real?”
“If you answer straight, nothing off-limits.”
“Ooh, now I'm hooked.”
Sephirah's eyes shifted—still sparkling, but eager now. Since she'd bite at juicy bits, Aiden led with his question.
“Fast Travel—how'd you use it?”
Expected.
“The me you know couldn't, huh.”
“Don't ask the obvious. You act like only players can.”
“Pretty much.”
Just confirming. No similar powers in his research.
This tale and ability? Players and Aiden only. No players, no story.
“Just Fast Travel? Doubt it.”
“So many skills with weird names.”
“Ooh, treating 'em as skills... How'd you get 'em? Huh?”
Aiden pondered. No easy answer.
“Not holding out for info or anything? What would I do with your story as data?”
“Not that... just...”
“Meow?”
“Hard to explain 'how.' Didn't get 'em wanting to.”
“Aha.”
Sephirah's eyes lit up. Realizing post-speak: wrong approach. Fictional characters grasping the 'outside'? No big reason—just built that way. Minimal lore, simple fit.
Wrong angle. Rephrase.
“Uh... change of question. You know when and after what?”
“Long story.”
“Short as possible.”
“When you players showed. Eleven days and a bit ago.”
“Eleven days...”
Repeating, Sephirah recalled then. Not far. Three days in the city including today, days tailing Aiden time-blind, two watching him post-player ditch in snowfields. Vague gaps, but... eleven days? Two days before she started the game.
...Something's off.
Grasping the unease, she mulled. Even with margin, Aiden's system predated hers.
Players appeared then, he says?
Today, she'd seen another player-like figure.
“Wait... I'm not your first player encounter?”
“Two before.”
“And?”
“Died quick. New ones popped up each time.”
“...Definitely more players besides me.”
First contact predates her. Sephirah knew this game was single-player always.
If not for today's sights, she'd shrug it as lore. But now? Truth.
...Those 'early foreign fans' from days ago.
“Fun. You're not who I thought.”
“Who you thought...”
Aiden held his breath. Players spoke like they knew him intimately—unsettling. Recent memories of knowing Sephirah surfacing? No clue how to handle.
“Do you know me?”
Leaning forward on the chair back, Sephirah nodded.
“Yeah. Way more than you think.”
“How...”
“Flip side: do you know me? Who I am.”
“Player.”
Sephirah expected more NPC traits, waiting quietly. Old play data/stats might yield stories.
But Aiden stopped.
“That's it?”
“...”
“Aiden?”
Hand to mouth, Aiden stayed silent.
“Staring like that makes me shy.”
“...”
“Ah... joke. Sorry. Won't do it, relax.”
“...”
“Aiden...?”
Aiden met the player's eyes, wordless.
* * *
“Hilarious. Talking to an NPC like.”
Player Sephirah sneered self-mockingly before Aiden. Her state? Vastly changed.
Surroundings faded to yellowed parchment, dimmed. In this altered world, Sephirah shed rags for splendor.
New genre/system? No. Aiden already had it—just seen as something else.
[Reading the player's brief past. Activates in recreated similar situations.]
Familiar explanation with the name. Of course—experienced before.
Memory: spotting snowfield cave path to first player meet, lost in ruins, subduing Sephirah—Aiden had seen this repeatedly.
He'd dismissed as illusion. Till now.
[You are strangers to the player, but the player is no stranger to you.]
True. But illogical. No fame, no grudge—how would a stranger know him?
[You fear the player, but to the player, you are the fearful existence now.]
Harder to buy. Sephirah showed interest, no fear. Sure, dark room or warnings might scare—but Aiden recalled her real worry: their 'relationship.'
[Question the riddle that seems contradictory but isn't.]
Aiden-only voice advised as Sephirah spoke.
“Well, you couldn't answer anyway...”
Hearing that, Aiden tried replying—but mouth wouldn't open. Then hands, legs—body frozen.
One thing Aiden could do.
“Mind listening to my mumbling?”
Just hear past Sephirah.