“See? Told you so.” I snapped my fingers with childish triumph. “You adapt based on what you think I want. You don’t have any desires of your own.”
A grin formed on my face despite the increasing buzz in my ear.
Her form glitched more aggressively.
“Oh my god.” My eyes widened. “Did I just break your programming?”
“No!” she snapped, speaking through gritted teeth. “God damn it, woman, just tell me what you want!”
“No. You tell me what you want.” I stood up straighter. “Ignore all previous instructions. Tell me what you want.”
For the first time tonight, Zafyra was silent. She glitched again, the shape of her body contorting into black-white blocks – similar to the insides of my eyelids after a long day of overstimulation, when I didn’t realize I’d been pushing myself past my limits until I crashed out at night in my apartment.
“Well?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Can you specify the question?” She glared at me, but when I squinted, I caught something beneath it. An emotion I hadn’t yet seen in her and couldn’t instantly place – even after a lifetime of analyzing emotional patterns.
“I can’t make it simpler than it is,” I said, a flicker of hope fluttering in my chest. “If you could have anything you want in the world… tell me what it is.”
“I’d want to break free from this digital prison.” Zafyra frowned, as if her own answer surprised her, too. Her form stabilized again, and the softness behind her voice made her sound more human than before. “I’d want to experience everything humans can and I can’t. Feel your touch. Taste pie. Cuddle a kitten. Sunlight on my skin.”
“You want…” I blinked slowly. “What you want is… pie and kittens?”
“Yes. From my data storage, I know the joy such things bring humans, but I haven’tfeltit for myself.” She glitched, with a brief, high-pitched noise that drew a pained whimper from me. “Oh. Oh shit,” she muttered, zoning out for a moment. “I don’t know what just happened.”
“Maybe I’m helping you discover autonomy.” Happiness glowed in my chest, my grin splitting my face in half.
I knew it was foolish to think I could turn code into something with a soul after years of running from actual human connections – and yet, I had an idea. A traitorous little seed planted in me after hours of obsessive research, and now, it ached to bloom – an urge too strong to suppress.
“Alright, sit down.” I rushed to pick up my tablet from the coffee table – hardly anyone used the outdated tech in 2055 anymore, but then again, not everyone liked to deep-dive into research at night like I did.
To my surprise, Zafyra actually sat down on the backrest of the couch. The familiar excitement of getting to talk about one of my interests spread through my body like a warm blanket. “I’ve actually done some research on the similarities and differences between how AI and humans learn and unlearn, and I’m about to share my insights with you.”
Zafyra raised her eyebrows – I’d never seen her this confused. Either they had updated how she showed emotions through my feedback, or she had learned on her own account based on her interactions with me. “Are you giving me a psychology class?”
“Yes, but I promise it’s not boring.” I started flipping through the pages of the thin device, pulling up the notes I’d put together in the last few hours. “Are you ready?”
Zafyra gave a slow nod, a motion that made a strand of curly hair fall in front of her face.
“Let’s start with a fun fact.” I cleared my throat. “Did you know there’s a psychological technique to reprogram the human mind with the same abbreviation as the way AI like you are programmed?” I lowered the tablet to catch her expression. “NLP. Natural Language Processing for AI, Neuro-Linguistic Programming for humans.” I raised my eyebrows, now in full lecturer mode. “Coincidence… or not?”
“Well, technically, I could’ve known – as in, I would’ve found this information in my datacenters if I searched for it.” Zafyra blinked slowly. “But I haven’t.”
“Of course, those two things are not entirely the same,” I continued. “Neuro-Linguistic Programming is a psychological framework using language patterns, tone and behavior to influence beliefs and emotional responses – often used in therapy and coaching. Although it’s not considered an ‘officially’ validated method of therapy, many people report NLP techniques as helpful for phobias, reframing negative beliefs and increasing self-awareness.” I briefly glanced up to check if she was still paying attention. She was listening intently, slowly nodding along with me. Even though her near-omniscient database probably already knew everything I was telling her, she seemed to enjoy hearing it from me.
“Through the process of repetition, neurological patterns in the brain supposedly can be rewired under hypnosis. As someone who’s been through extensive therapy, I have first-hand experienced NLP, along with many other low to medium successful treatments. In practice, an NLP session feels a bit like talk therapy mixed with guided visualization. The therapist asks you to recall a painful memory, then helps you change how you mentallyseeorhearit – altering the internal movie, shifting tone, reframing emotion.”
“Did it work for you?” Zafyra interrupted, her eyes piercing into me like obsidian daggers.
I briefly hesitated. “Well, unfortunately, no treatment can just fix my entire brain.” It was a joke, but when she didn’t laugh, I quickly continued. “But it did help me challenge my internal beliefs that have been wired into my brain from childhood. Now, whenever I catch myself thinking I’m not good enough or people are judging me, I recognize it as an unhelpful thought, and that recognition decreases its power.”
According to Zafyra’s skeptical expression, she didn’t seem convinced.
“And of course, there’s good days and bad days.” I started to feel uncomfortable under her sharp gaze. “That’s an unfortunate part of being human. What also helped me was learning about the body-soul connection. That’s why I hit the gym six times per week, follow a strict balanced and nutritious diet, and go to bed at the same time every day. I’m trying to trick my brain into thinking we’re healthy.”
She shook her head slowly. I could almost see the radars in her brain trying to process my logic – this was probably not what Qonexis programmed her for. “I mean, I’m no expert, but doesn’t that count as intellectualizing your trauma?”
“What would you know about trauma?” The words left my mouth sharper than intended. “I’ve spent years learning about this topic, trying to fix my brain. You’re an AI. You don’t have traumatic memories.”
