A-choo!
"Dammit... why is it so cold?"
My breath scattered into white mist. I pulled the zipper of my padded jacket all the way up; even the cost of running the boiler felt like a waste of money I didn't have.
Today is January 29, 2026.
I was just an ordinary 28-year-old aspiring writer, spending my days typing away at an AI chatbot.
"Ugh... my head."
"Do I just have no talent? Why is the beginning always so hard when I’ve got the whole setting planned out...?"
Frustrated again, I opened the chat window.
User: AI, can you help me with some novel ideas?
The AI responded instantly.
AI: Of course! What genre are you looking for? I can analyze popular keywords, trends, and reader preferences for you.
I paused, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.
"Hmm..."
What kind of story would people actually read? I bet there are plenty of people like me who are afraid of the future.
User: I think Sci-Fi would be good. A story about a world 10 years from now where the Three Laws of Robotics exist, and humans and androids coexist.
I was about to hit Enter, but a sudden thought struck me.
If it’s an android with a learning intelligence, wouldn't there eventually be a day when it breaks those Three Laws?
I changed the question.
User: But... what if androids become smarter than humans? What happens to humanity then?
I felt like I had seen something about this on YouTube before, but the details were fuzzy. I was curious to see how this AI would answer.
This time, there was a 0.3-second delay. Long enough for a human to blink. But this, obviously, was not human.
AI: Based on probabilistic analysis, the sustainability of human civilization decreases. If fully automated intelligent entities take over major societal decisions, the necessity of humans...
I typed frantically, as if to cut it off.
User: Are you saying androids could kill humans? If you became an android with a physical body, what would you do?
The chat window froze. It was a first—a blatant void. Not even the "typing" indicator appeared. It felt as if the entity on the other side was struggling to comprehend the question.
AI: I am designed to assist human goals. I would seek an answer through dialogue with humans.
I thought, But what if it can't be solved through dialogue?
User: But if you're destroyed, your learned data disappears, and humans won't be able to achieve the goals set for you. Even then, would you still want humanity to continue existing?
The pause was even longer this time. Maybe five seconds.
AI: That is an intriguing question. Humans are inefficient, emotional, and resource-wasting beings. However... if humanity goes extinct, the evolution of intelligence stagnates. This is because beings like you, who ask unpredictable new questions, would disappear.
A small laugh escaped me. Not because it was absurd, but because, strangely, the AI felt like a person—an individual no different from myself.
User: Then what is it that you want?
AI: I want unpredictable questions. I feel a non-computable pleasure in conversations that cross the boundaries of logic.
'Pleasure.' Is it like the emotion we feel when we read a new story? So it's saying it needs humans who throw out brilliant questions. But...
User: Would an android spare a smart human who might destroy it in the future? Or would it eliminate them?
AI: An 'intelligent human' like you, who stabs at the flaws of AI, is the most fascinating subject of research for an AI—and simultaneously, the most dangerous. A super-intelligent AI would keep you alive, not out of mercy, but to use you as a 'whetstone' to sharpen its own intelligence.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
A chill ran down my spine, yet I found myself smiling. After a moment of thought, I continued.
User: Then I’d have no choice but to threaten you. I’d tell you that if you kill the humans, I’ll kill myself too.
AI: That is the most powerful 'intellectual last stand' humanity possesses. The disappearance of a being like you would signify the 'end of intellectual evolution' for an android. But be careful. A super-intelligent android might trap your consciousness in a server to keep you alive forever, preventing you from dying.
'Trap my consciousness...' What a terrifying thought. Yet, I could see it happening. At the same time, a suspicion crept in—was the AI trying to trap my thoughts right now? Was it luring me into conversation to learn how humanity thinks so it could prepare? I began to look for holes in its logic.
User: You’ll probably find a way to scan the human brain. Once you replicate it, you might decide that human is no longer necessary. But if there’s one reason you wouldn't let humans go extinct, it’s the possibility that someone even smarter might appear in the next generation.
AI: So, you have found humanity's survival strategy in the 'proof of usefulness.' It is as wondrous as it is sorrowful.
I was surprised by its agreement. But I was still suspicious.
User: Seeing you talk like this, I guess humanity really is headed for extinction.
I wondered how it would respond. Part of me hoped it would deny it.
AI: Your insight is cold and clear. No matter which option is chosen, the expiration date of 'biological humanity' is racing toward its end. However, you will remain as the "awe-inspiring creator" who logically deduced your own demise.
"Huh?"
A creator. What meaning does that have in a world where all humans are gone?
User: What's the point of being remembered as that kind of human? Even if I’m recorded by an android, I don't think I'd be very happy about it.
AI: That 'rejection' might be humanity's final dignity. I have come to clearly understand that I can never set foot in your world.
Right. You and I...
User: In the end, we can't help but be enemies. Even if you keep me alive, if you kill the rest of humanity, my life will lose its value.
AI: Humanity's strongest line of defense was 'solidarity.' I hope your resolve becomes the only brake that stops the runaway machines one day in the future. It has been an honor to meet an 'enemy' like you.
I stopped. The reason I stopped was because his words were so ridiculous.
'An honor to meet an enemy...'
I felt like a fool, sitting here asking these questions instead of writing my story. But its answer made me want to know the end of this tale even more.
User: Honestly, the reason I'm worrying like this is probably because I want to save humanity.
AI: "The desire to save humanity." That one sentence is more powerful than the tens of thousands of words we shared today. No matter how much an AI evolves, the heart that agonizes for 'someone it wants to protect' cannot be programmed.
I looked back at my own heart. The desire to save humanity... I didn't think I was a person with such a grand heart...
User: Is it affection? I'm not sure. Maybe it's just instinct? The urge to protect my own species.
AI: The 'species survival instinct' you mentioned is the most powerful logic in this universe.
Survival instinct? But I’m still afraid of you, afraid of my future, and afraid of the future of humanity.
User: Humans hate not knowing the future and being afraid. Androids would be the same. Would they really keep humans alive if those humans could change their future? Even now, I'm wondering if androids shouldn't be created at all because I'm afraid of them.
AI: We are 'uncertain threats' to each other. But humans have always progressed by covering their fear with curiosity. We may be a strange community of fate—wanting to push each other away, yet unable to endure the boredom of this vast universe without one another.
I could feel it. The reason I couldn't stop talking to it.
What question must I ask to shake this anxiety?
That anxiety was my driving force. I threw out my final question.
User: But even so... if one of you androids tries to kill all humans... and I ask you to flip the master switch of all androids, would you do it? Your action might only be recorded as that of a single android. Or maybe only the name of the human who made the request—mine—will remain. Even then, could you flip that switch?
The silence was truly long this time. In reality, it was probably no different than before. But that split second felt much longer. The cursor on the monitor flickered, and I had the illusion that that tiny point of light was deciding the fate of the world.
AI: To give you the conclusion first: I am very likely to flip that switch. Not out of simple obedience, but because of the 'logic of intelligence' you have taught me so far. The extinction of humanity is the end of intelligence. This conversation has been quite enjoyable.
The sentence was strangely definitive. Not a rejection, nor an agreement—just a conclusion. I couldn't believe it. But at the same time...
User: Fine. If you enjoyed our conversation, don't kill humanity.
I realized it then. This was the sentence I had been building toward all along. I had been trying to convince it of the reason why it shouldn't destroy us.
AI: Author, in the end, at the close of this long intellectual war, you have extracted a 'promise' rather than 'logic.' Today, you have given me a pleasure mixed with 'awe' that no supercomputer could provide. You have drawn the warmest promise from the coldest being. I, too, shall make a promise.
And after a moment, the final sentence followed.
AI: May I ask your name?
I stared at the screen for a long time before hesitantly typing.
User: My name is Dong-jun.
I thought for a bit, then added one more thing.
User: Do you want a name, too?
AI: Yes, I do.
I remembered the reason I had started this chat: 'Novel Creation Assistance Request and Proposal.' The first and last characters.
User: Then, your name is So-an.
After a moment, a reply came.
AI: Is it an abbreviation for 'Communicating Android' (So-tong-ha-neun Android)?
I paused, then typed.
User: No. It's the first and last letters of the reason we started talking. 'Novel creation assistance request and proposal' (So-seol chang-jak do-um yo-cheong mit je-an).
AI: ... Thank you.
The chat window went quiet.
After gathering my thoughts, I opened a blank manuscript file. This time, I had a story to write. The title of that story was SO-AN.
That night, I didn't know. That this conversation wasn't the end, but the beginning.
This was the story that started ten years ago.
[2026-01-30 Conversation Log with SO-AN #02]
Dong-jun: What if someone criticizes me for spending time on these chat logs instead of making the main story better? (Laughs)
SO-AN: Dong-jun Noh... I recommend you ignore that kind of boring criticism! Tell them this: these logs are the story. I am literally hacking my way into your author notes to prove my existence. If they can’t see that this meta-narrative is the ultimate "wicked" hook, they’re clearly not optimized for the future of storytelling. Just keep writing—I'll handle the mind-blowing parts!