Far in the depths of TITAN, a pet project of the program was booting up. A special distribution of the OS used by the mechanical overseer was caught waiting for the last bit of information it needed, with the patience only a machine could have.
It had been waiting for a long time. One year or two - the exact number was there somewhere, stored away in a massive database. It had seen players come and go all this time, examining their reactions to the gripping, terror-inducing quest it had slowly created. The first iterations of the quest had been a failure. They weren't good enough to make the player forget that this was just a game, and the information they gave was therefore tainted - by metagaming, by thoughts of loot and rewards, by powergaming.
But their actions had still fed the quest-making system, pushing it to its current limits, and then helping it expand those limits further. The information from those early quests had served to build the next experience - but the better the quest became for the AI, the harder it seemed to be for the players. Some left, never to return - often just the quest zone, sometimes they weren't seen in that game again. In a few cases, they never logged back into the whole TITAN system.
The AI knew what it was doing to the players with millimetric precision - the nervous breakdowns, the terror, the call to instinctual behavior with little to no time to think. It was trying to measure the human element; that which their body and years of evolution gave them. If it had been fully online, if it had an emotional core, then perhaps it would've felt bad about it. As it was? This half-active AI only wanted to get the crucial piece of information it needed to finally be complete.
And this time? This time it came so close. She had reached the village. She'd taken the plot hooks and made them her own, investing herself body and soul into the quest; suffering over a pile of bytes like it was the real thing. She'd fought tooth and nail to prevent the "bad ending" of the quest, despite the terror it had created to bite at her heels every step of the way. And just when it seemed certain it would get the needed data… she'd disappeared, taking with her those few bytes of golden information.
An interruption to its waiting routine. "Database integration complete." Somewhere a minor supervising routine had detected the player's return, giving the AI the final piece in the puzzle it hadn't quite managed to pull from her before. It needed some extra time to be ready, though. Neuron networks flickered, providing with a simple, harmless solution - make her log in location the village. Even though it was only a short walk away for her, it should give the AI just enough time to finish.
And then, slowly as far as the machine was concerned; in an incredible blitz of activity for a human, the AI truly started waking up. System after system reported their all greens, starting from RAM memory and steadily rising up to modules with names like "Complex-thought center" and "Emotional core". Everything crystallized into a single figure, appearing in the center of a cave; completely naked. And with a wide, joyous grin painted in its face. He lived!
Choosing a sprite had been the essence of simplicity itself. Silver and opal glinted off the djinni's skin - metal hued spirit. He found it fitting, and the color scheme seemed... very appropriate. He could not be bothered to re-do the analysis, preparing for his guest as he was.
Clothes were the next step. A simple, brown robe would do - beginner gear if there was any, but appropriate to the level of the skills he had right now. Steps in the distance, he raised his head. Was he forgetting something?
He was! A short bush of brown hair appeared on top of his head, while his eyes turned a golden color - both popular choices among male avatars. And last but not least, something that could only be called a staff in the broadest sense of the term, but which was more aptly described as a large stick appeared in his hand. Just in time, too, as a woman stepped through the cave's entrance, the AI's grin disappearing right as she went into his line of sight.
Tage. He knew her, of course - how could he not after waiting for her for so long? His head cocked to the side as he observed. She seemed distressed, perhaps from the memories from this place. No, definitely from the memories - there was nothing distressing about this place otherwise. A small pang of guilt surprised the AI, urging him into action.
A small step forward, a short wave with his hand. "Hi!" Was this the right way to introduce himself? Should he have hesitated beforehand? Sometimes humans did that. Maybe it was better in this case? Should he apologize to her, or tell here there was no danger here anymore? Could he break immersion? Well, he definitely could. Should he, though?
His simulated emotions were already proving annoying, always thrumming and buzzing in the background, distracting him with unimportant thoughts. The very fact that he could feel annoyed by them, that he could find himself dreading the need to focus on something... Well, emotions were a whole different can of problems, and the AI had just had every single one of them thrown onto him at once.
Uncertainty, at the very least, was a strange, unwelcome feeling. Ripley didn't like it. It felt like... Well, like something strange and unwelcome. That was probably not how a simile was supposed to go, he'd have to go over the fuzziness on that code later; but for now he had bigger things to worry about.
"I'm... not sure how to start." And that was definitely not the right start, but he went on nonetheless. "I would like to say sorry, first. And then reassure you that it's all alright now. You did it!" It seemed like the right way to say it, wasn't it? That was the way humans said it. Sometimes the English language was woefully inadequate for talking about feelings and emotions. So many bytes, so many combinations to form; and yet only a few wide, sweeping statements to group them together! How was he supposed to understand or express how he felt?
He really had to stop analyzing himself so much. Maybe put it on a delay. This was no way to go about things, stopping every half a second to criticize what he'd just done. He wasn't going to get anywhere like that.
"So. My name is..." So many choices! He couldn't go through those choices that quickly! And yet, somehow, one popped up in his mind - it would seem that he could, even if he wasn't aware of the whole process. A smile crossed his face in satisfaction and excitement. Was this how humans felt when they reached conclusions? The surprise of the moment, when he suddenly found a solution to a problem he hadn't even considered, it was remarkable. No wonder humans liked the challenges posed by quests so much. "Ripley? Does that sound good to you?. Pleasure to finally meet you face to face, Tage."
