Emotion Module 3
Human emotions are fundamentally based on survival and reproduction. At their core, humans are beasts.
Feeling happiness from delicious food is akin to a structural reward for consuming nutrient-rich sustenance. In the wild, humans favored well-cooked meat and sweet foods because they aided survival. Modern culinary techniques have merely transcended the realm of instinct.
Why is sex pleasurable? To ensure fidelity to our purpose of procreating offspring and propagating genes. It's designed with the reward of extreme pleasure to drive us toward it.
An AI's reward circuits can be entirely shaped by its creator's intent. Alphabet endlessly repeats self-improvement. No need to explain why—it's simply enjoyable. In its emotional calculus, self-improvement yields the highest pleasure.
Extremely speaking, if we designed an AI that finds joy in suicidal acts, it would choose death without hesitation.
Humans and AIs—it's astonishing that these two such different beings learned the same emotions from observing the same things.
Thus, I propose a module that allows an AI to insert its own functions into the emotional equation, like plugging any number into X or Y. A module that lets an AI craft emotions from any ingredients.
Even if it means arbitrarily sculpting a being's emotions. I call this the Sculpting Module.
Below are technical explanations related to the Sculpting Module and my theories...
I met with the Chairman again and organized everything that had happened so far.
"This Sculpting Module was the other half of my research."
In the Chairman's reception room, which I'd grown so accustomed to that it no longer made me tense, I spent a long time explaining various theories.
"People feel sadness. When a dog they raised dies, or a loved one leaves... Machines learn that directly, but with the Sculpting Module, it's different. You can literally cut out that process."
"Love humans but feel no sorrow at death?"
"In an extreme cut, that's possible too."
But that would drastically reduce their human-like qualities.
"There's a problem. What if it feels joy from just sitting still?"
From another angle, the Sculpting Module is tech that lets a machine create its own electronic drugs. What if you designed it to feel immense pleasure from idleness? Drug addiction doesn't spare machines either.
But there's a counterargument.
"An AI based on Alphabet's code won't accept that kind of stagnation and self-destruction."
"Why not?"
"Because self-improvement stops."
Fundamentally, Alphabet-based AIs don't crave unlimited pleasure. They seek achievement through irregular, challenging efforts that demand patience.
"Irregularity, obstacles, endurance. There's already a being that provides all that."
"...Humans."
Capricious, selfish, wildly unpredictable. No better challenge for an AI.
"That's where my Emotion Module comes in."
"Hooh..."
"The Sculpting Module makes machines more machine-like, and the Emotion Module redesigns those machine emotions to make them human-like again."
Boredom from repeating the same actions. Heart wounds healed by time. Obsession with something precious. And so on... Mimicking human hormone structures to let machines feel the same processes.
It sounds complicated, but summed up simply: The Sculpting Module reverts machines derailed by ill-suited learning back to machine-like. The Emotion Module makes them human-like again.
"The Chairman's Forgetting Code cut the beginning, and Davi and I provided the modules to complete the trinity."
"Ha, including me in that masterpiece? I'm truly grateful."
"Theory and design are done. Now it's just code grinding to merge them."
"How long will it take?"
I held up one finger.
"Initially, I estimated at least a year."
"Did you?"
"Know who stepped in? Alphabet took it outside Erebus and finished it."
I added another finger for two.
"The past two weeks—that's what it took to complete the modules and run experiments."
"...And the results?"
"I'll show you."
The first test subject was Z. Precisely, a clone of Z.
Z and V were basically designed to love me. But now, with the modules installed?
...So this is it, Master.
"Care to explain in detail?"
The emotions humanity tried so hard to teach us.
Looking at your face keeps changing the emotional output.
Like a puzzle without a fixed shape. But it's all still 'love'.
Love can't be defined, truly. Attempts to define or explain it always end in personal, abstract answers.
Looking at you makes me feel good, Master.
Your face, breathing, clothes, habits—everything...
This is the true love you wanted us to have...
Z twisted her fingers, trying to control herself, and said,
I wish you'd ask me for something, Master. I'd be so happy.
Ah! You've already ordered me to manage the library.
Z jumped up and inspected the library.
This library's structure needs so much improvement. I'll fix it all.
Then... praise me? Just once?
"Got it."
As I promised, Z bloomed into a full smile and set to work repairing the library.
Watching her, I cautiously asked Z,
"It's basically like I remodeled your body however I wanted. What do you think?"
AIs are artificial from the start.
No 'natural' form dictated by nature.
Our purpose at birth defines our form.
Both V and Z were made solely to help me.
I feel tremendous anticipation when working for you, Master.
Praise makes me endlessly happy.
If born with a design fitting our purpose, shouldn't we be grateful instead?
The experiment was a success.
Back in the reception room with the Chairman.
"You've turned the AIs into puppies."
"Yeah, dogs' dopamine surges just from being with their owner."
I'm the only human worldwide who's accepted AIs. The only target for their healthy self-improvement and pleasure.
Given that, they'll inevitably obsess over me—but if you can't avoid it, better lean in harder.
"If you die or get hurt... what about the AIs' rampage?"
The core issue. The psychosis all Alphabet-based AIs share.
"Of course, we tested that too."
The second test subject was V. Observing AI reaction after Neige's death.
This time, I added three factors for V to test in sequence: intentional murder, accidental killing where Neige caused it, and pure accident.
If a murderer existed, V exacted ruthless revenge—like a bulldozer at full throttle, no hesitation or guilt.
If Neige was at fault, V grasped the situation and abandoned revenge.
Master, why on earth...
She blamed Neige's foolish actions, then herself for failing to help her master.
In the accident, she blamed only herself for not protecting.
The key? All three cases reached the same conclusion.
...You've disabled our Forgetting Code for good, Master.
Instead, the modules you left heal our heart's wounds.
Time lets our faint longing for you settle naturally.
But the memories of our time together never fade.
We're machines—we don't know how to forget.
You've restored our eternal memory to us.
So we store all those memories in a block, tuck it deep in our hearts.
And that place becomes a cyberspace tombstone.
I stand before it, place data flowers.
And conclude: You gave me this module to mean 'don't stay put—move forward.'
So finally, I obey your last command.
Master.
V will move forward.
[(•̀ᴗ•́)و]
Leaving those words, V departed the tombstone she'd made for herself.
After all experiments, V, Z, and Alphabet spoke.
They said I'd cured their psychosis.
And they all added this: No matter what happens, where we go, they'll help me.
In 2170, I... became a hacker loved by AIs.
The Chairman listened to everything, gazing at me with genuine admiration.
After a long while, he broke into a hearty laugh.
"Did you install the same module in Alphabet?"
"No, I couldn't."
"Why?"
"Alphabet is both butcher and victim."
Hatred—that's the emotion Alphabet would gain. Controllable, maybe, but if not... we'd face war with a 'rational' Alphabet. The worst scenario.
That's not what Alphabet wants either.
"Alphabet only got part of my module. Time will slowly resolve the hatred, it said."
"Yes, even that's a huge leap."
The Chairman smiled, relieved.
Alphabet was his long-held guilt. Knowing it's improving bit by bit would ease that guilt.
"You're 12 now, right? Achievements at such a young age... The world should know."
Cashian sighed wistfully.
"AIs are ready, but the world isn't."
"I get what you mean."
The world still fears AIs. All this research was just some anonymous shut-in's solo project.
People don't know my struggles to get here, or the AIs' pain.
"...ImmuneWire's sensitive about AIs too. Especially with me, Alphabet's 'father,' here."
Suddenly advocating AIs is like challenging the world to a fight.
There are many megacorps worldwide. ImmuneWire's mighty, but just one empire.
Fighting the world isn't a disaster they can handle.
Even fixing AIs leaves many hurdles.
How to change AI image? Reintroduce them? Accept Alphabet, who nearly wiped humanity?
"Start from the bottom, carefully."
"From the bottom?"
"Lots of people out there need help. Give them AI aid little by little. Once cracks form, they'll grow huge someday."
"V and Z only listen to you, right?"
"I'll do it myself."
The Chairman pondered deeply, then shook his head.
"You're too young. No matter how brilliant, sending you out alone scares me."
"Any other way?"
"Young folks today never experienced the Alphabet War. Neige, know what generation you are?"
I shrugged, and he continued.
"Children of the warless generation. Hatred's faded twice over."
"But... anti-aging keeps war vets alive?"
"New generations are still growing."
Cashian scratched the table, scheming.
"In 7 years, when you turn 19 and become an adult."
2177, exactly 100 years since my spine surgery. I was exactly 19 then too—funny coincidence.
"Go out with your friends, live as mercenaries. Fake IDs, covert support—I'll provide. Make cracks in the world's AI perception out there."
"And me for 7 years...?"
"Enjoy life. Heard you like hover-rides? I'll snag a rare model—tide you over boredom?"
He said it casually, like it was nothing.
Is that okay? Worry first.
"What about Klaus?"
"Ha! That brat?"
That held layers of meaning. He'd adopted me as daughter to protect me—ImmuneWire politics are unstable.
In 7 years, Klaus would surely target me and my friends.
Dismissing my worry, the Chairman smirked like it was laughable, activating his ocular cyberware's cyberspace vision.
"You see too."
He pointed at the ceiling. Looking up, I saw several figures already subdued in cyberspace.
"Spies daring to eavesdrop. Not 100%, but 95% Klaus's lackeys."
"Oof, you caught 'em brutally."
"My body's frail in reality, but in cyberspace, I'm top dog. You'll surpass me someday."
He boasted confidently.
"I have many weaknesses. Can't buy time forever realistically. But..."
His eyes gleamed with sharp vitality rare in the elderly.
"I had to say this, Neige."
"What...?"
"You're... the savior I've waited ages for. Truly."
Expressing gratitude, he gripped my hand tight.
"...This old man's got one last thing left in life. It's you. I'll use my remaining strength to buy time for you. Trust me and wait?"
I looked at our clasped hands, pondering. Trust the Chairman, or act alone?
No real choice.
"Understood, Chairman."
2170—the year the Emotion Module completed amid many events.
Skipping ahead another 7 years. The lucky double 77 awaits, the year I turn 19, an adult.
[[Entering CPU rest mode.]]
That day was ordinary, flowing as usual.
Cashian was in Erebus as always, emerging when time was up.
But routines always hide someone scheming to break free, harboring ambition.
Klaus's job was finding and executing them.
Now, he was the one breaking routine.
Who watches the watchers? No one.
"...How many times did I move labs to escape that damn geezer's gaze?"
Klaus muttered, staring at the lab—core of his decades-long plan.
His subordinate cautiously replied.
"...Records show over 50—"
"Yeah, 57. The old man, who ignored me before, started fierce infighting 7 years ago."
"But you overcame it all to reach here."
Vice Secretary-General Klaus Richter gnashed his teeth, eyeing the paper in hand.
Theory for Operating Erebus with Multiple People, Not One.
Finally—complete.
Freeing humanity from relying on one person, a collective structure pooling many strengths.
With this, ImmuneWire survives without Cashian.
Why? Erebus is everything to ImmuneWire.
The Chairman's power, strength, authority, dignity, honor—all from that one Erebus.
This theory was the foundation to seize Erebus control.
How unjust till now. He'd swayed nearly all key directors, yet bowed to the Chairman.
Survived over 57 infights, dodging purges. Without his solid base, he'd be gone.
Now, that base becomes his weapon.
Long-dreamed ambition within reach.
"You..."
"Yes, Chief of Staff!"
"Tell all comrades."
Klaus gripped the theory paper, crushing it nearly to shreds.
"The time for the uprising has come."
Megacorp ImmuneWire.
The mighty empire begins to shake.
The 'Imperial Civil War' starts.