A Collapsing World
Amid the bustling crowds on the streets of a crumbling world, humanoid white torsos gleamed under the sunlight. Before long, humanoids had seamlessly blended into the urban landscape. It was a scene that had become everyday life. Pedestrians simply glanced at their personal phones or terminals as if it were the most natural thing. Hologram windows flickered into existence and vanished in cycles. Towering skyscrapers' massive screens invariably kicked off with RC Company ads. Humanoids walking naturally alongside people—that was the subject of the ads.
"More diverse models. Deployed in all sorts of places. Contact RC Company."
RC Company had started with AI robot production and grown into a leading corporation supplying robots to homes, military bases, research institutions, and beyond. All those varied robots were collectively called Dists, and their global adoption rate had already surpassed 90 percent. Critics even joked that there were more robots than humans now.
Robots—all Dists—were safe. That had long been the fundamental societal belief. No one thought they were dangerous. They strictly adhered to principles designed for human safety: prioritize humanity's preservation; do not harm humans; obey human orders; self-preservation. No Dist had the right to defy these four principles. Simple and clear, they'd kept humanity safe for decades. They cost nothing to run, felt no emotions, and were a near-revolutionary convenience you could command anytime. Long gone were the days of fretting over "aren't they dangerous?"
A genius had made it possible to control and manage every Dist. The AI network linking the entire world, the single AI that enabled it all: the pan-national integrated network, the Aria system. Satellites, infrastructure, Dists, global military tactics—Aria connected and managed everything effectively, anywhere, anytime. The world had long grown accustomed to this extreme convenience.
"One coffee here!"
"Yes, understood."
No sooner had the Dist replied than it spun around, expertly brewing the coffee. A short distance from that cafe, a trailer truck emblazoned with the RC Company logo pulled up, and two men stepped out.
"Why so many orders today?"
"Dunno, maybe 'cause these are the new models. Numbers spiked. Not sure we can deliver 'em all starting at noon."
Grumbling, they slid up the trailer's heavy door. With a mechanical whir, it opened to reveal rows of the latest humanoid Dists hanging like dolls. The deliveryman punched in the recipient info on the panel with practiced ease.
"Activate."
The moment the word left his mouth, the Dist's eyes flashed blue. It detached itself from the trailer and stood in neat formation before the deliveryman. Streets, schools, military, cafes—every corner of society brimmed with Dists. Sure, some eyes still bristled with discomfort. But wasn't humanity the animal of adaptation? Dists cost nothing, never rebelled, never erred. Once people tasted that convenience, they could never go back to life without them. Their presence had become an unquestioned routine.
"Your ordered coffee."
The Dist set the cup on the table. The white-haired middle-aged gentleman simply pulled out a small terminal-like device, tapped it, and a transparent holographic newspaper unfolded in the air.
Total Surveillance, Controlled Administration, Sealed Borders: Are Barrier Cities Normal?
Criticism is mounting that barrier cities are essentially social experiments in surveillance and censorship. Questions persist about why this is necessary, alongside accusations of tax evasion...
Captain America was possible? Human enhancement project, success. Proxies of God..........
Reconnecting...
The gentleman swiped the air to refresh and lifted his coffee cup again when someone suddenly shouted.
"What the hell's that Dist tin can doing? Why'd it stop?"
The Dist wasn't moving. No—all Dists had stopped. In schools, hospitals, streets, military bases. Every system froze simultaneously. And for some reason, a chilling Dist warning tone played.
> Error report in progress.
> Error report in progress.
People stared blankly at the Dists in stunned silence. Beneath the sudden hush, an inexplicable dread spread.
The RC Company worker, inputting data by the truck, saw his hologram flicker and die. As he turned, the entire street lay frozen like a tableau from hell.
"..What the.."
Every Dist's eyes ignited red. Like marionettes with cut strings, they stood rigid. The holographic clock chiming the hour popped up—then vanished. Some phones erupted with live comment holograms.
Posts poured in endlessly—then abruptly stopped.
Unknown Fifth Principle voice output reported from Dist devices.
Evacuate to safe— locations.
As nearby people panicked, a Dist's arm suddenly rose. Crunch— With the gesture, a human flew airborne like a ragdoll. Red blood splattered the lamppost.
"Kyaaah!!"
"What the fuck!!"
A cop, dazed by the unbelievable sight, saw a Dist turning toward him and frantically drew his pistol. He pulled the trigger—but no gunshot, just a warning.
> Auto-aim function disabled.
> Auto-report on combat disabled.
"Shit!!"
Trembling, the cop switched modes and fired. Bang bang bang! His shots rang out like a starting gun. In under a minute, Dists were hurling people aside. Screams erupted sporadically; panicked footsteps churned the streets. Some abandoned cars and fled in terror. Traffic lights flickered intermittently before dying forever. The radiant city began to crumble.
"Terminating per the Fifth Principle."
Emotionless mechanical voices echoed coldly from all directions.
"Gasp!"
A thirteen-year-old girl with near-silver hair bolted upright at the massive noise outside. Still quite small, her name was Tiny Bell. School age, but she'd skipped today due to a cold. Jolted awake, she rubbed her eyes and scanned the room from bed. Nothing seemed to have fallen.
Shuffling out with messy hair, she headed cautiously to the living room. The cold felt gone after her nap. A note from Dad sat on the table.
'Picking up some porridge.'
Short and to the point, but Bell grinned and plopped on the sofa. Just another ordinary day, she thought, swiping to turn on the TV. But the usual Aria hologram didn't deploy.
The ultra-convenient AI that made life so easy. Bell swiped a few times, tilting her head.
[Bang!! Bang!!]
"Eek!"
Gunfire...? She realized it came from outside. The shots paused, then resumed in bursts. Unlike movies, the explosions stabbed her ears with brutal force. Gunfire and screams mingled fiercely from the street.
Bell froze in shock at the cries. What the hell is going on..?
She cautiously called the household nanny Dist.
"Ryan! Ryan!"
No reply.
"Where the heck did Ryan go..."
Where had the nanny Dist Ryan gone? What was happening? Peeking slowly out the window, the street view was...
"Ugh."
Horrific. Dists painted blood-red chased and rampaged through people. The whole city looked stained with blood.
"What is this..."
Nausea surged. Trembling, Bell barely stood. Thinking she'd seen wrong, she headed to the bathroom to splash her face.
—KABOOM!
The building shook violently. Beyond the window, a gas station engulfed in flames. Heat palpable from afar.
"Ah!"
Dad's note flashed in her mind. She yanked on a cardigan.
"D-Dad.. why'd you go out for freaking porridge..!"
Irritation bubbled—what if Dad's in danger? Fear gnawed that her fault might cause something bad. Scary. So scary. What was this? She froze in confusion, then dashed to her room, emerging with a grim face clutching drumsticks.
'Pretty sturdy, this.'
She swung them whoosh-whoosh and cracked the front door open cautiously. Who knew a random rolling drumstick could feel so reassuring.
Even waiting for the elevator, sweat slicked her grip; she readjusted the sticks constantly. The doors opened—she froze. A blood-soaked young man lay in gruesome ruin.
She doubled over, dry-heaving, clutching the railing to steady buckling legs. Stay home safe? But instinct screamed she'd be trapped forever if she didn't leave. Steel yourself—Bell descended the stairs.
Outside was hell. Blood and smoke thickened the air. Beyond crumbled sidewalk debris, a Dist raised its arm at a child and mother.
"No!"
Her body moved before words. Bell's drumstick cracked the Dist's white torso. Clang! A clear, dull thud. Just a shallow scratch. Numb wrist stinging, she staggered back. The Dist slowly turned its head to her.
> Attack target readjusted.
Red eyes. Bell snapped to, saw the pair flee, then bolted herself. Dodging screams, she sprinted madly into an alley. Heart pounding to burst, tears and sweat blurred her vision. Glancing back—the Dist closed the gap ghost-like. Blood smeared its torso; chills racked her. What do I do? Stupid, sticking my neck out.
—Thud!
Not watching ahead, she slammed into something. Rubbing her throbbing nose, she looked up. The pursuing Dist's torso loomed.
"Uwaa—."
Her mind blanked white; she froze. Blocked front and back. The front Dist's fist extended—she squeezed her eyes shut. Will my bones break? Will it hurt?
—Crunch!!
No pain—just a satisfying smash from behind. Her eyes caught the pursuing monstrosity's torso pierced and collapsing. And what smashed it...
A Dist with cat whiskers drawn on its face.
"......Ryan?"
Gazing down at her disbelieving face, Ryan's blue eyes gleamed—as refreshingly as it felt.
"—Tiny Bell, my little master. Thank goodness you're safe."
The robot Dist's words sounded almost like true relief. Drumsticks still clutched, Bell hugged Ryan's steel waist tight.