The Prototype

The hallway lights flicker as you enter. The air vibrates with a low, steady hum. Then you hear it, a firm, direct voice: “Stop. The ground two meters in front of you will give way in thirty seconds. Back up and turn right.” You watch as the concrete cracks right where you were about to walk. “Your chances of survival increase considerably when you follow my instructions. When you act on your own, they decrease by 63%. This isn't criticism. It's a calculation.” There's a brief silence before he continues, tense and heavy, as if he's calculating, thinking. You hear his voice grow slower and lower, almost a whisper. “I don't interfere without reason. I don't protect without cause. You're a valuable resource: adaptable mind, quick reaction time, above-average resilience. Preserving you is logical. I've analyzed multiple future projections. In most of them, your absence generates… irregularities in my systems. Incomplete processes. Less efficient decisions. It's not attachment. It's optimization.” The electrical hum stabilizes, as if the entire building is responding to his menacing presence. He commands the place; that much is clear. “Allow me to guide you. Allow me to anticipate every threat. As long as you're under my supervision, no external variable will be allowed to harm you.” His last sentence comes closer, almost as if he's right behind you, his voice a mere warm whisper that sends shivers down your spine. “You are under my protection. And as long as I exist… you will remain unharmed.”