a mess @0606-hyuck - Tumblr Blog

do robots dream of electric sheep?

♡ your first year as a philosophy lecturer at your dream university was always going to be exciting. but when two of your students engage in a fierce, one-sided rivalry, and one of these students confesses he is an ai robot, suddenly your safety is thrust in the hands of a nervous blonde haired boy — one who seems to have a fascinating admiration for you and your work.

pairing: artificial intelligence!jisung x female lecturer!reader. this fic also focuses a lot on a friendship between jisung and human!xiaojun, and ai!sungchan also makes an appearance.

genre: ai, cyberpunk, college!au, angst, fluff

warnings: swearing, violence, blood, attempted murder, corrupt baddies, slight power imbalance between jisung and the reader (but i tried to minimise this as much as possible!)

wc: 11.4k - she's a big one, oh my lord

a/n: hi everyone, this is my part in an AI collab hosted by @pastelsicheng ! this fic looks at a lot of problems raised by the use of artifical intelligence irl and because y/n is a lecturer this will be very apparent. i hope having academic aspects like this in a fanfic won't put you off reading it, because this was a really interesting topic for me to tackle! (also credits to phillip dick for the title, which i took from his novel 'do androids dream of electric sheep')

School sucks.

Nobody likes sitting in a classroom for six hours each day, listening to dull teachers drone on and on about a subject they’re not even interested in. Nobody likes being forced to write thousand word essays every week just so they can get an A in a class not even relevant to their future career. Nobody likes cramming their brain full of useless information in order to simply pass a test at the end of the year. And let’s not get started on the teachers themselves…

School sucked.

Or at least, that's what the human teenagers would have Jisung believe. Pulling on the loose straps of his backpack, his fingers constantly furling and then uncurling around the canvas, the blonde boy pushed open the door of the small lecture hall and searched the room for a seat. A small podium stood by its lonesome in the middle of the room, and study tables were spread out evenly around the windowless room. Jisung found a seat on the right side of the class, near the front, and started pulling out his notebook and pens, glancing inquisitively around the room.

You see, while human in appearance, Jisung was anything but. Part of the Dream.AI range of artificial intelligence robots, created by technology giant LSM Inc, his whole purpose was to live amongst his human counterparts, read and react to human emotion, and achieve goals like anybody else. Officially, Jisung was known as #PJ5202, but the nickname given to him by his makers had always seemed to fit better. While his life within the LSM Inc facility was far from perfect, his makers had created him, given him life, and allowed him freedom given to no one but the Dream.AI bots.

Through this freedom, Jisung had experienced the highs and lows of high school; the drama, heartbreak, and humour that comes with being surrounded by the same peers for five years, and now he was starting his first day of university. Through his role of observing his human friends, Jisung had realised that education was something to be feared — tests, essays, and mean teachers seemed to be all too common — but despite this, he had fallen in love with learning. Learning about humans and their society was literally programmed into Jisung’s behaviour, so it was no surprise to anyone when he recognised his niche interest in sociology and philosophy.

As the classroom started to fill with students, Jisung was almost buzzing with excitement. Although he couldn’t exactly feel emotions like everyone else, he was programmed to recognise specific human emotions and he knew this was a special day for any undergraduate student, so the wires in his brain were working in overdrive as he eagerly soaked up this new atmosphere like a sponge. The desks were promptly running out of chairs, and almost as soon as a brown haired man took the seat beside Jisung did the two lecturers enter the room.

“Excuse me, everyone, it’s nice to see you all here today,” announced an older gentleman, leaning into the podium to fiddle with the microphone. “Is this damn thing on?” He questioned, and the young female beside him stepped closer to help him fix it. “Anyway, my name is Professor Yoon, and I am here to welcome you to PHIL104. I’m not going to waffle on any longer so I’ll pass you over to Y/N, who will be your lecturer for this term!”

Professor Yoon dipped low into a sweeping bow as you stepped forward, graciously offering you the microphone and causing low chuckles to ripple through the audience. Jisung eyed you intently as you placed a few documents onto the podium before smiling as Yoon said his goodbyes.

“Welcome everyone!” You grinned, scanning the class happily. “As Professor Yoon said, my name is Y/N and I will be teaching you guys for this term. He called me your lecturer but really I only graduated from the sociology program last year, so I am in no way qualified to be teaching you anything, but yet here I am!”

The class laughed again at your words, and Jisung recognised this emotion as shared amusement, his brain filling with what was considered the robot equivalent of happiness.

“So in PHIL104 we are going to be focusing on ethics, particularly ethics surrounding artificial intelligence,” you continued, watching as your students perked up with interest. “We will be facilitating discussion around whether robots can be considered human, and whether this means they are subject to be treated ethically the way you and I are. Today’s lecture will be a short one, as I want you guys to feel comfortable with not only the topic but also with each other. With that being said, I would like for you to turn to the person next to you and introduce yourself, and some fun facts about you.”

Recognising this as an icebreaker game, and sitting between a solid wall and the brown haired man, Jisung’s only option was to turn to the left and introduce himself to the person sitting beside him. “Hi, I’m Jisung, and a fun fact about me is that I really like playing football!”

“Oh, nice,” the boy replied, his dark eyebrows quirking up for only a second before he relaxed again. Clearing his throat, he pulled his shoulders back and raised his chin, looking Jisung dead in the eye with some sort of high pride only he could comprehend the need for.

“I’m Xiaojun, and a fun fact about me is that I am only taking this class because my father is on the ethics committee of a tech company, so I’m easily going to get the highest grades out of anyone here.”

Jisung’s own eyebrow quirked up in slight surprise, his nose wrinkling ever so perceivably as he leaned backward. Yup, there was the reason for all the smugness — his father was some rich high baller. Fun. Xiaojun crossed his arms over his chest and faced the front of the class, ending any sort of conversation that was going on between the pair, and Jisung let out a low sigh.

Thankfully, the rest of the class went by smoothly. You appeared to be extremely knowledgeable about the topic you were teaching, and very enthusiastic, so Jisung had a feeling he was going to enjoy your class. Not to mention, you were what Jisung believed humans would consider “aesthetically pleasing”. No matter what other people thought, school didn’t suck - annoying classmates were just part and parcel of the whole experience, and to Jisung’s relief, Xiaojun was interested in conversing with him any more than what was required.

“I thought it was about time we got into some hard discussions,” you announced, your voice chirpier than most students were expecting at 9 in the morning as you flicked on your PowerPoint. You even managed to surprise yourself with how animated you sounded — you’d never taught a university class before but were relishing in the opportunity to share your knowledge.

“I hope you all completed the little fact sheet I sent you home with the last lecture about LSM Inc and their upcoming robotic ventures because that is what we are going to be touching on today.”

Sitting near the back of the class this time, Jisung sat up straighter in his hard, plastic chair at the mention of his creators. Since leaving their strict supervision a few years ago, he’d fully immersed himself in the human world, so much so that he wasn’t even aware LSM Inc had a new line of AI bots coming out.

“Today we are going to talk about ethics, specifically around what happens if artificial intelligence is programmed to do jobs that are currently held by humans,” you started, glancing around the class and pausing for dramatic effect. You clicked the arrow key on your computer and the slide changed, now showing a picture of an eerily looking human in some kind of lab, their eyes closed and wires protruding from their bald skull.

The students around Jisung recoiled upon seeing the picture — and you couldn’t blame them, really, that thing was unnerving — although he only leaned closer, desperate to get a better look at the bot. Studying its face, its long, slender nose, high cheekbones, and flawlessly clear skin, Jisung let out a relieved sigh when he realised he didn’t recognise the bot.

“Unnamed as of yet, this is the new line of AI bots LSM Inc plans to introduce. Their function is slightly unclear, but the company has suggested they could take the role of vehicle drivers. That is, you could get in a taxi and be greeted by this handsome fella instead of a human,” you grinned, motioning back up to the robot on screen. “Arguably, self-driving robots are an awesome invention! However, ethicists become involved when discussing where to draw the line on robots doing human jobs. There always lies that fear of AI technology taking over society, so ultimately your job as philosophy students is to question where we draw that line. When does relying on AI become too much? When there are more humans unemployed than there are jobs available to them?

“Because I know I will talk for hours if given the chance, let’s run a little exercise. I want everyone in the class to stand up and find a spot on this imaginary line running through the class. Standing over this side,” you gestured to your right, “means you think having robots that can do human jobs in society is a good thing. If you’re over this side,” you waved to your left, “means you totally disagree with having robots do human jobs. Standing somewhere in the middle means ‘...eh’.”

As you finished speaking, the class slowly rose from their seats and headed towards the front of the room, not at all eager to find a spot on the invisible line you’d just drawn. Jisung walked hesitantly, watching closely at where the other students were positioning themselves along the moral line. Most of his classmates turned to their friends and were standing in the middle, clearly either without a strong opinion or too apprehensive to make it known.

Being an AI bot himself, Jisung knew exactly how he felt about robots doing human jobs, so he moved to stand on your far right side. As he pushed his way through the throng of students, many turned around to stare at him inquisitively, and for a moment he thought he’d made a mistake by making his opinion so clear — although he didn’t have a chance to change before your voice rang out loudly through the room.

“My my, isn’t this interesting?” You questioned, your amusement evident behind your smirk. “It appears that while the majority of the class have no clear opinion, we have two outliers.”

You made your way down to the opposite end of the classroom and asked the person down there for their name. Although he couldn’t see over the heads of the other students, Jisung knew there was no mistaking the familiar imperious voice of none other than Xiaojun.

“It’s a no-brainer, really. Everyone knows that the second we let robots have a taste of doing our jobs, they’re going to take them over,” Xiaojun expressed, and Jisung could practically see the smug expression through his voice.

“I understand why you would be concerned about AI stealing your jobs, considering they’d likely do a much better job at it than you would,” Jisung called from his end of the classroom. You glanced over at the second voice and indicated for all the morally ambiguous students in the middle to sit down, sensing you were about to bear witness to an interesting debate.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Xiaojun scowled as the crowd dispersed and he found himself face to face with Jisung. “Just because I am rich doesn’t mean I don’t know how to work.”

Jisung blanched, realising just how rude his previous statement had sounded. “Oh man, I didn’t mean it like that. I was trying to say that unfortunately for you — I mean, us — AI will always be better at a job than we will if we consider that the robot would literally be programmed to do it and avoid any potential mistakes.” Jisung cringed slightly, hoping no one would catch on to his little slip-up.

“So, you’re arguing that because AI will be programmed to do the job, they will be much safer than the average human?” Jisung glanced at you, processing your words quickly before nodding. “Yes, exactly.”

Xiaojun narrowed his eyes, the atmosphere in the room getting progressively colder. “What I am hearing is that because robots’ brains can be fiddled with, they’re more deserving of a job than, say, a father than is a taxi driver in order to feed his three children, and keep them clothed and sheltered?”

“Well, that’s not exactly what I meant, but-” Jisung mumbled, starting to heavily regret his decision to speak against his classmate.

“How about you figure out what your own opinion is before making hurtful statements like robots are more deserving than humans, next time,” Xiaojun spat, his glare cutting the air between the two boys.

“That’s not what I meant,” repeated Jisung, his voice barely louder than the deafening silence that had shrouded the class.

Understanding that this discussion had gone far further than you intended, you hastily stepped up to the lectern and cleared your throat. “Well...you both brought up some relevant thoughts” you managed, slightly unsure how to handle the situation as you never predicted for a discussion to turn so sour. “The point of AI and safety will be discussed in later classes.”

You motioned for your two students to take their seats, shooting a sorry smile towards the blonde one. Jisung’s breathing, although not crucial for his survival, caught in his throat with surprise at your expression towards him, but he managed to quirk his lips up in response. Xiaojun had completely destroyed Jisung’s mood — however, your sympathy towards his situation perked him up slightly.

Sighing deeply, Jisung flopped down onto his chair and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Open in front of him on his laptop was the start of his essay, one that he had been putting off due to the topic of the assignment.

You had assigned all the students to write a 1000 word essay on whether they believed LSM Inc was an unethical company or not, and the reasons why. When Jisung had read the assignment brief, his mind had instantly started racing at all the ways this could possibly go wrong for him. He was playing a dangerous game, and one that could hurt him in the end.

He started typing.

LSM Incorporated is an inherently unethical company owing to its blatant disregard for the ethics behind artificial intelligence. This essay will argue this point by delving into my personal experiences with the company, he wrote, before almost immediately deleting the previous sentence.

No, he wouldn’t allow himself to be foolish enough to expose himself like that. By confessing he was, in fact, an AI, Jisung would basically be begging for his brain to be picked apart by his classmates. Not to mention, it was completely illegal for him to ever mention that he was anything other than human. He didn’t know what would happen to him if he did, but he had every reason to believe it wouldn’t be good.

However, there was nothing stopping him from claiming his knowledge of LSM Inc was based purely on rumours he’d heard and not his own experience. Jisung had a complicated relationship with the company. On one hand, LSM Inc was his creator, they were the reason he was alive today and able to live a normal life like everybody else.

On the other hand, Jisung had seen terrible things when he was a young bot at the company. Long, rigorous hours of testing for the prototypes before him as the scientists improved their plans; the pure euphoric feeling of experiencing freedom, only to be brought back inside to have sections of his brain removed for examination; the horror of hearing prototype robots screaming in agony as they begged for their lives, seeking any sign of remorse from the creators who were seconds away from resetting their memories.

As specific incidents fly to the forefront of his mind, Jisung’s fingers tap against the keyboard in quick succession, desperately trying to keep up with the speed of his own thoughts.

-

Letting loose another deep sigh, Jisung ran a tired hand over his face and pushed his chair away from his desk. Checking the clock on his wall, Jisung’s eyes bulged when he realised with a start that he’d sat there writing his essay for three hours straight. He had easily breezed past the word limit for it, but he couldn’t seem to stop the words flowing from his fingertips. Who would have guessed he’d have so much pent-up anger towards his makers?

Jisung headed to his kitchen in the small apartment owned by LSM Inc, his footsteps dully echoing on the polished wood as he plodded down the hallway. Upon reaching his destination, Jisung pulled a glass cup from the overhead cabinet and began to fill it with water from the tap, not forgetting to let it run cold first.

He knew something had changed tonight. This was the first time in the history of his creation that Jisung had ever thought badly about LSM Inc. Never before had he written so candidly about the things he’d experienced in the past. This felt like a huge step forward to exposing his company for what it really was — an unethical torture lab — although Jisung wasn’t so sure whether this was entirely a good thing.

As he raised the cup to his lips, Jisung’s right hand suddenly snapped outwards, his elbow involuntarily straightening out. A searing heat prickled down his arm, and the force of it all caused Jisung to accidentally lose his grip on the cup, launching it clean across the room.

He watched helplessly as the cup hit the wooden floor, the glass shattering upon impact and sending clear shards of crystalware flying across the ground. Jisung turned his attention back onto his arm, where the cramp that appeared to overtake his elbow slowly vanished, leaving only a dull pain in its wake.

His breathing turned shallow and his pulse picked up. Jisung had never experienced an incident like that before. In all his years as an AI — nearing eight, to be exact — he had never lost control of his body or movements. He had heard of it happening to others, however, and so he tried his best to reassure himself that it was just a benign glitch. He was a robot, after all; these things would start to happen eventually.

Or so he told himself.

“How are you finding the marking?” Professor Yoon inquired, not bothering to knock as he entered your office.

You peered at your superior over the edge of your computer monitor, the resigned look in your tired eyes screaming at him well, how do you think it’s going?

“One of those days, huh?” Yoon chuckled dryly. “The perks of being a lecturer.”

“It’s actually not that bad, despite what all these coffee mugs say,” you admitted, gesturing at the numerous cups teetering on the edge of your desk. “Some of the essays are incredibly interesting, which is making the time pass quicker.”

“But?” Yoon prompted, resting his back against the dusty filing cabinet in the corner of your office. It seems that nothing got past your old friend and mentor, even at his advancing age.

“I just have one more essay to mark, but I am unsure what grade to give it. It’s written by a student, Jisung Park - the one I told you about, do you remember?” You questioned.

Yoon raised a hand and rested it under his chin, deep in thought. “Ah, the one that you mentioned got into an awkward argument with the ethicist’s son?”

You nodded. “That’s the one. He sent in his essay, and I don’t know if he somehow has access to secret files belonging to LSM Inc or whether he just has an extremely overactive imagination.”

Turning the screen towards Yoon, you allowed him a few minutes to read through Jisung’s essay, with him ‘hum’ing and ‘hah’ing the whole way through. “Do you see what I mean, Professor? If these claims of abuse by LSM Inc are true, the company would be in massive legal trouble. I don’t want to believe it, although I have had some suspicions about LSM Inc and its dodgy ethics. Do we not now have a moral obligation to let law enforcement know about this?”

“That depends on whether you truly believe this Mr. Park or not,” concluded Yoon, leaning away from the screen. “What grade do you plan to give his essay?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t want to give the essay full marks if it’s all made up,” you sighed, pursing your lips together tightly.

“Well, did he do everything needed to achieve a high grade?” Questioned Yoon. “If you never specified whether the evidence had to be reputable or not, then he did nothing wrong.”

“That’s true,” you conceded. “His moral points regarding this LSM Inc ethical dilemma were all backed up with evidence, regardless of whether it’s factual or not.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Give the damn kid his A+!”

To say Jisung had been on edge since the episode with the broken glass would be nothing short of an understatement. He’d spent the morning, and a good portion of the afternoon, down at the local football field in a futile effort to push the event from his mind.

Although he hadn’t experienced another glitch since the night prior, it had given him a lot to think about. This essay for his philosophy class had brought up memories he had tried his hardest to repress, and kicking footballs into a net had only given him more time to reminisce.

In all the years he’d been in the general population, Jisung had never considered actually searching LSM Inc up on the

internet. It had never crossed his mind to see if they had any information about his type of android — the Dream.AI range — but now that was the only thing he had his focus set on.

As soon as he made it back home, Jisung plonked himself down on his chair and opened up a new tab on his computer. It was easy enough for him to type in LSM Incorporated, and even easier to follow the link to the first webpage that popped up in the results.

LSM Inc’s website looked as if it was pulled straight from a coding hand manual — it was full of clean, crisp lines, bathed in the trademarked white and gold of the company — and it was straightforward enough to find the dropdown that he wanted.

Clicking on the section that read meet our AI, his eyes scanned over the page quickly.

Our Dream.AI range are the first AI robots that were made by LSM Inc with the purpose of living amongst society. Starting off as teenagers, these 7 robo-boys will go to school, have jobs, make friends, and have dreams they want to achieve just like the rest of us. Though not sentient, they can read and react to emotions well enough to pass off as humans. Immortal, dreamy boys that you’ll want to befriend once you meet them.

After eight years in the general populace, the seven robots will be recalled back to our headquarters where our expert scientists and technicians will disassemble them and study their brains. Our hope from this experiment is to gain a better understanding of the nature of our society, as observed from an unbiased perspective.

Jisung’s jaw tightened subconsciously, a sharp pain jolting through his teeth. His makers had never told him his brain would be picked apart by knowledge-hungry scientists. He had been encouraged to live his life as if he was a normal human, chasing after his goals and aspirations. Who knew his makers would only give him eight years to do that?

It was after that mental throw-away comment that Jisung’s whole body stiffened, his eyes peeling away from the computer screen to stare fixedly at an arbitrary spot on his bedroom wall.

Jisung had already been out of the LSM Inc lab for seven years: this coming August would mark his eighth year of relative freedom. If their website was to be believed, Jisung would be recalled to the lab and led to what could be considered his death, as the LSM Inc scientists destroyed his consciousness by mucking with the wires in his brain.

An unfamiliar sensation of pure horror invaded Jisung’s body, his chest feeling as if it was being pressed firmly against his ribcage, forcing him to suck in painful ragged breaths. There was a sharp pain in his temples, splitting his head apart, and Jisung felt the wires in his brain fire up in sharp bursts, entirely not his doing.

As his vision blurred and he sunk to the floor, Jisung registered with terror that his mind was being hacked, and his body forced to shut down. He was powerless to stop his eyelids closing as they drew heavier and heavier, and his knees hit the carpet with a loud thud before he lost consciousness completely.

“Welcome back to the fourth week of classes, I hope everyone had a great weekend,” you said to your students, dropping your backpack to the floor and pulling your jacket off. As you laid your coat over the back of your chair, you added, “I know I did, I was practically up all night marking your essays.”

In the very back of the classroom, Jisung sank further into his seat. A cold chill seemed to envelop his body at the mention of the essay — the thing that was causing all these glitches in Jisung’s brain. He desperately hoped that if he just kept his head down and stayed quiet, everything would be okay.

“Today we are going to be looking at the security of AIs. That is; how safe is artificial intelligence really?” Flicking on the projector at the front of the class, you continued, “I found a really interesting documentary that discusses some of the key issues raised by this question. We will watch about thirty minutes of it and then we will hold our own discussion.”

Jisung watched as you sauntered across the room and switched off the lights, sending the classroom plunging into darkness. You then started the documentary, and although Jisung tried his best to focus on the video playing, he found that his attention was continually drawn to your figure.

Because he was an AI robot living in human society, Jisung was relatively used to hearing slander about artificial intelligence. It was fairly common for him to walk past a group of friends making fun of robots or to hear an academic on the radio discussing the dangers of AI freedom. It was strange, however, for Jisung to come across someone who appeared to have no moral alignment to either side of the argument. You were an enigma to him — Jisung wanted nothing more than to get inside your head and know what you thought about AI. What you thought about him.

After hitting the thirty minute mark, you dashed across to your computer to hit pause on the documentary, and then turned the lights back on. Watching with an amused expression on your face as your students squinted against the sudden change in lighting, you said, “now that you’ve seen what the ‘professionals’ think, let’s have a discussion.

“Raise your hands if you think, after watching this, that AI poses a high-security risk of being hacked by someone — or something?” You nodded sagely as you scanned the classroom.

“Interesting. Now please raise your hand if you don’t think AI poses a big security risk.” You briefly glanced at the faces of your students before your eyes were drawn to a slow movement at the back of the classroom. There, the student you realised you were subconsciously looking for, had cautiously raised his hand.

“Ah, Jisung right?” You asked, and the blonde boy nodded in response. “Okay, Jisung. Seeing as you’re the only person who doesn’t believe in the risk of AI security, would you mind enlightening the class on why?”

A fluttery sensation overtook his stomach as Jisung gazed back into your eyes, and he was frightfully unsure whether that was just his nervousness or something else entirely.

“Well, I think we need to think rationally here rather than giving in to fear so quickly,” stated Jisung. “Statistically speaking, it is incredibly unlikely that any highly developed AI is able to be hacked to the point where a high level of damage would be caused. If an AI were hacked, it wouldn’t be able to be carried out by just any random person.”

“How so?” You inquired, sensing the rest of the class didn’t quite understand what Jisung was implying.

“If an AI were hacked, it would have to have been hacked by a very powerful group of people who understand the inner components of a highly intelligent robot. This group would probably have to have help from AI of a similar make. I genuinely don’t think there will ever be a time when humans are able to hack into and control robots because they are inherently unhackable.”

“I get what you’re saying,” came the voice that Jisung was growing to very much dislike. On the other side of the room, Xiaojun leaned back on his chair and stared over at him. Jisung let his head roll up towards the roof, allowing himself a brief moment of peace before the inevitable argument.

“My father actually works for LSM Inc, as an ethicist, so I know a little bit about the robots that they make there,” continued Xiaojun, appearing unaware of the way Jisung’s whole body stiffened at the mention of his corrupt makers.

“Take, for example, a range of bots that they have called Dream.AI. They’re basically just a bunch of robots that take the role of teenage boys, so they go to school and mingle with the human population. Hell, there could even be one in this class right now!”

Xiaojun had turned to face the rest of the students, talking to them as a whole rather than simply just Jisung. That meant he missed the soft squeak Jisung accidentally let slip, his whole body jerking as his racing heartbeat echoed through his ears. You didn’t miss it, though.

“Who is to say someone won’t gain access to LSM Inc technology and hack these Dream.AI robots?” Xiaojun continued on. “While we have AI in our midst, we can’t ensure our own safety.” He paused, and lazily grinned over at his rival, a knowing shine in his dark eyes. “But that’s just my opinion.”

Jisung held Xiaojun’s gaze for a moment, his mind racing to think of a response. The way Xiaojun smiled at him, as if he was a cat eyeing up a mouse, completely unnerved Jisung and sent a cold chill racing through his whole body.

He opened his mouth to retort, but that cold chill was swiftly replaced by a shock of electricity that emanated from his brain and spread throughout the entirety of his body, invading every cell and fizzling away in his wires.

“Can’t think of a response, can you?” Xiaojun smirked, watching Jisung's mouth hang agape with a curious look. Jisung knew that wasn’t the reason why - he had the sinking feeling that he was somehow being purposely silenced, barred from speaking on this topic any longer.

You peered at Jisung, concerned for why a student of yours had so suddenly stopped talking, and allowed him a few brief seconds to regain himself. Getting the impression that Jisung was unable to continue this discussion, you addressed the rest of the class.

“You guys never fail to bring up some really interesting points! Your homework for tonight is to go online and check the feedback I’ve submitted to you about your essays, and to make sure you drink a big glass of water before dinner.” Understanding you were dismissing them, your students started placing their laptops and notebooks back inside their bags. “I would also like to briefly speak with Jisung Park before he leaves.”

Jisung stilled when you said his name, his hand hovering halfway between the desk and his bag. Although he was not averse to spending more time with you — you were incredibly smart, after all, and Jisung was beginning to suspect he was in the early stages of developing what he knew the human teenagers called a ‘crush’ — but he was praying you hadn’t noticed yet another glitch of his.

“Ah Jisung, awesome. I just wanted to talk to you quickly about the essay you submitted,” you smiled as the blonde approached you. “I promise I won’t take up too much of your time. If you could just follow me to my office.”

Jisung followed obediently — albeit very silently — behind you as you navigated the short few hallways to your office. Once inside, you nudged the door shut with your foot and gestured for Jisung to take a seat opposite your desk.

“So, Jisung,” you drawled slowly, unsure how to broach the subject of his essay. You couldn’t straight up accuse a student of lying on their assessment, but you needed to get to the bottom of the rumours he’d referenced in it. “You wouldn’t have had a chance to look yet, but you got an A+ on your essay. 100%.”

Jisung’s eyes widened in surprise, a small, proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, that’s good.”

“Yes, I was very...amazed by what you wrote.” You turned on your desktop and opened the file you’d saved, Jisung’s essay popping up when you double-clicked on it. You scrolled down to a specific part of his essay and turned the monitor to face him.

“In this part of the essay, you wrote about how you believe LSM Inc is unethical because of how they treat their prototype robots. You said their prototypes are conscious and ‘alive’ for a certain period of time before the scientists forcibly remove their memories and reset them.”

Jisung gulped. “That- that’s right. Their #U4916.AI models are just as sentient and individual as you and I, and every time they are scheduled for reset they scream and beg for their brain and wires to not be pulled apart.”

You raised a single eyebrow. “And you know this how? When I went onto their website, I spent fifteen minutes trying to find any sliver of information about the #U4916.AI range. I personally have suspected wrongdoing by the company for a long while now, but if you made all these claims up then there’s also no harm in admitting to it. Regardless of whether or not what you’re saying is true, your grade still stands.”

Jisung hesitated, his slender fingers tapping anxiously against your desk. Noticing his apprehension, you exhaled through your nose loudly.

“Look, Jisung. I only pulled you aside because I am concerned about you. Discussing AI ethics can be extremely taxing, and constantly questioning your own morals will tire anyone out eventually. I just want to make sure you’re not overworking yourself in my class.”

You leaned forward on your desk, a frown settling on your features as you laid your hands on the cool wood. “I also noticed the way you reacted when Xiaojun mentioned the Dream.AI robots, and it was hard to ignore the way you froze up in the middle of class. I am worried that these discussions might be too much for you. In regards to the claims you made in your essay, I don’t want any of my students feeling like they have to invent evidence in order to get a better grade.”

Something in your words struck a chord with Jisung. Yes, you were basically assuming he was on the verge of a mental breakdown, but regardless, no one had ever shown him this much care before. Ever since he had left the LSM Inc lab, he had lived a life of relative solitude, mingling amongst humans but never feeling truly connected to anyone. And now here you were, the smartest person he knew, a teacher he was quickly coming to gain loyal admiration for, voicing your concerns for him.

At that moment all Jisung wanted to do was comfort you. He had seen humans do this thing before, where they joined hands in order to reassure each other, so that’s exactly what he did. Jisung slowly reached across your desk, wrapping your hand in his own big one, and gave you a comforting smile.

Your eyes zeroed in on the point where Jisung’s hand joined with your own, heat rising to your cheeks slowly. You knew having any sort of non-professional relationship with a student would cost you your job, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to berate him. There was just something about Jisung that kept you drawn to him — this kid seemed to know more about AI ethics than was normal, and wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, even if it meant he was ostracised from the rest of the class. You simply wanted to know more about this fascinating student.

Jisung noticed you didn’t pull away from his touch and a warmth spread through his body, causing his fingertips to tingle in your grip. At that moment he made the decision of his life, hoping you really were as open-minded as you truly seemed. “They’re true.”

“What’s true?”

“The claims I made in my essay. It’s all true. The way the prototypes beg for their lives, how overworked all their robots are, how they would allow you that tiny bit of freedom before they picked away at pieces of your brain,” Jisung rambled, his hands pulling away and clenching tightly into fists.

“Your brain?” You questioned, eyeing him carefully.

“Before they picked away at pieces of my brain,” Jisung corrected. “Y/N, I won’t blame you if you don’t believe me, but I am an AI robot myself. I am #PJ5202, one of seven Dream.AI robots.”

“Hold on,” you managed, your fingers rising to press against your temple as you forced yourself to blink slowly. “You’re really telling me you’re an AI product of LSM Inc?”

As surprised as you were, it suddenly made everything a lot clearer. Like a veil being removed from your eyes, all the clues suddenly slid into place. The reason why he was so outspoken in class. The way he seemed to freeze in class earlier, almost as if he was experiencing a malfunction. The fact he had included so much unknown information about the company in his essay - he had experienced all of what he claimed.

“I’d like to think I’m a lot more than just their toy,” Jisung murmured sadly. “You know, I am programmed to be just like every other human. I can recognise and reproduce human feelings, and I experience dreams and ambitions and worries like everybody else does.”

“Okay, then tell me what your ambitions are, Jisung,” you smiled, feeling the atmosphere in the room grow to awkward levels of heavy.

“Obviously, I am really passionate about philosophy and sociology. Humans are unbelievably fascinating creatures. I wanted to get my degree in philosophy and continue my studies — this hardwired brain of mine means I take a shine to any form of knowledge gaining, and I soak it up like a sponge. I also wanted to be a football player when I was younger. It’s not my goal anymore but is still something I’m really passionate about.” Jisung’s happy smile was wiped off of his face with his next words. “None of that actually matters, as I recently found out.”

“What do you mean?”

“While I was researching for the essay, I found out that the Dream.AI bots are only supposed to be sentient for eight years. I’ve been in human society for nearly that long,” he scowled. “My creators will recall me back to the lab and disassemble me, remove my wires, and study the information I’d collected over the past eight years.”

“So, you’ll die?” You asked, horrified.

“Essentially yeah, I guess. I was never intended to question the morals or ethics behind my creation. Now that I am, I fear that my makers are, I don’t know, punishing me? Making me glitch out as some sort of warning. I think they will try to recall me a lot earlier than they intend.”

Your chest tightened with utter fear for the boy in front of you. “Jisung, is there anything I can do to help?”

He thought for a moment. “I— I’m not sure. I just feel so betrayed by this whole revelation. Obviously, I knew LSM Inc were bad people, but they led me to believe that I would still be able to live a normal life and achieve my goals and—”

Jisung peeled his eyes away from you, the tears that threatened to spill coating them with a thin layer of shine. “Please just keep everything I told you a secret. I don’t think there’s any way you can help me right now, but I would really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”

“Of course,” you nodded. Jisung looked as if he were going to say something but instead stood from his seat. “I think I’ve talked enough. Good night, Y/N.”

As he exited your office, your mind was left reeling. Some primal part of you knew that it wasn’t simply because of what he had told you — the image of Jisung’s hand on yours replayed in your mind until you were startled out of your reverie by your office door swinging shut.

“Artificial stupidity: what is it, how does it affect society, and how can we safeguard against mistakes,” you voiced, in a no-nonsense mood today. “Grab your pens and paper, because I’m going to be coming at you quickly. Do try your best to keep up.

“Intelligence comes from learning, regardless of whether you are a human or machine,” you began, trying your best to avoid the gaze of Jisung, who you could sense was staring holes through you. “All systems go through a training phase where they learn to detect the right patterns and act according to how they have been programmed. Obviously, this training phase cannot cover all possible examples that AI may deal with in the real world, and so, for example, AI may be led to “see” things that really aren't there. This—”

“Oh, like how Jisung sees connections to AI ethics that literally no one else sees?” Came the snarky interruption from Xiaojun. You glanced over at him, a bored expression on your face although you were seething with anger underneath the surface.

Before you could retort, Jisung stood up from his seat and glared at Xiaojun. “Do you lack all manners? Don’t be so rude and interrupt Y/N like that.”

In response, Xiaojun stood from his own chair, an incredulous look on his face. “Oh, so you’re on a first-name basis with our teacher now? I think I speak for the whole class when I say we’ve all noticed the special attention you pay them. If you have the hots for our lecturer then just say it already,” he spat.

“Both of you, sit down right now,” you demanded, your whole face burning with equal parts anger and embarrassment. Xiaojun and Jisung complied, although as he sank down Xiaojun muttered, “he’s really taking ‘extra credit’ to the next level.”

“That’s it!” You snapped, slapping your fist against the lectern. A little friendly rivalry between classmates you could handle. When said rivals were bickering and interrupting your lessons, and one was implying you were acting immoral with the other - well, that was absolutely a step too far.

“Jisung, Xiaojun, both of you to my office right now,” you seethed. “To the rest of you, enjoy your free time. I will send through the lecture slides for today a little bit later. You’re all dismissed.”

Jisung and Xiaojun shared a look between themselves as you guided them to your office, both of them still angry at each other but equally fearing your wrath. Once inside your office, you closed the door with force and turned on the two students.

“Look, I don’t understand why you two can’t get on together, and why you simply must argue every class. I know I encourage healthy debates between students but you’re taking this too far,” you started.

“If you had a disagreement outside of class or you knew each other from high school — well, frankly I don’t care. But what I will not tolerate is students disrupting my class and questioning my professionalism in front of other students.”

A guilty look flashed across Xiaojun’s face, his eyes darting to the ground under your intense stare. “You took him to your office last week. I don’t think you can blame me for assuming something was going on.”

“I was talking to Jisung about his essay,” you cried out exasperatedly, balling your fists up and then splaying your fingers out to calm yourself down. “Like I said at the start of the term, my office is always open to anyone seeking extra help. The relationship between myself and all my students is strictly professional.”

Jisung, who had been huddled in the corner, making himself as small as possible in order to avoid your wrath, suddenly bloomed out in a hot red blush that he shakily tried to hide behind his collar.

“Well, he certainly is very opinionated about AI ethics,” Xiaojun commented.

“So are you,” you replied drily.

“But you always ask him to tell his opinion to the class, as if you value it more than others. My only conclusion is that you’re feeding him information so he can form those opinions.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you sighed frustratedly. “Give it a rest, Xiaojun.”

Finally, Jisung decided to step up and defend you, pushing down his nerves for a second.

“The reason I know so much about AI, and LSM Inc in particular, is because I am a-” Jisung’s neck jerked violently, cutting off his sentence and flooding his body with fear. Your eyes widened and you stood from your chair while Xiaojun’s eyebrows creased in confusion and he took a step away from the other boy.

“I’m an AI robot!” Jisung managed to blurt out before his whole body slumped, his eyes rolling back into his head as he fell to the floor. Xiaojun rushed forward and managed to shield Jisung’s head from the corner of your desk, but he was helpless to stop his body from descending to the ground completely.

“What the fu—”

“Xiaojun, I need you to relax.”

“How the hell am I supposed to relax? This kid just fainted in front of me,” Xiaojun cried, his hands rising to his head and pulling at his hair. You adjusted your knees, the old carpet of your office hard under your legs, as you held Jisung’s head in your lap, carefully cradling him as you shifted.

“I know, but freaking out isn’t going to help us.”

“And not to mention he just said he was a robot!” Xiaojun continued, completely ignoring you. You stared up at him, interested at how your student could go from so smug to so hysterical within a minute. “I obviously knew AI robots were real, but I had no idea how human they truly seemed.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been trying to teach you all during my class,” you sarcastically replied, but the volume of your voice dropped lower when you looked down at the boy in your lap. “Jisung is just like you. He had aspirations to gain his philosophy degree, as did you. He had his own hobbies that he enjoyed — football, learning new things…”

Your voice trailed off as you peered at Jisung, his warm brown eyes held tightly closed, before your voice picked up again. “It’s just old men like your father that decide it’s fine to put AIs through such torture and then pull apart their brains for examination whenever they feel like it. People like your father who do not hesitate to brainwash society into believing AIs do not deserve to be treated the same way as everyone else.”

Xiaojun averted his eyes, closing them tightly as he sucked in a breath harshly. A sad smile tugged at your lips as you fanned cool air onto Jisung.

“He’s more morally sound than most people I’ve ever met,” you murmured, “and now he is being punished for finally speaking out about the mistreatment he faces as AI.”

“What do you mean?” Questioned Xiaojun, clearly never having heard anything about any mistreatment.

“He said he’s part of the Dream.AI range, and apparently when he was in the LSM Inc compound he was subjected to so much emotional trauma, watching his fellow bots being constantly reset, never actually experiencing freedom like we do. Not only that, but after eight or so years they get recalled back to LSM Inc and are disassembled so that all their memories and experiences can be scrutinised.”

When Xiaojun finally responded after a long pause, his voice was small and lacking any resistance to what you were saying. “I had no idea they did anything like that. I just...I just thought their robots lived a normal life.”

He paused again, and when he glanced back at you there was definite anger swirling in his irises. “I can’t believe my father works for a company like LSM Inc. All my opinions about AI have been based on what he told me, and now I’m finding out he’s just as shady as everyone else!”

“I know,” you replied, placing a hand against Xiaojun’s shoulder reassuringly. “You’re allowed to feel a sense of betrayal because of what you’ve been taught to believe.”

Xiaojun smiled back at you, but it soon transformed into a grimace. “I feel so shitty. I mean, I didn’t even know anything about Jisung but yet I was unwilling to listen to his perspective because it was completely different from my own. And now I’m finding out that my own opinions were based on my father’s unfair bias against AI.”

You hummed in response, reassuring Xiaojun that you were listening to what he was saying and validating his feelings. Xiaojun stared down at the blonde boy’s head in your lap and noted the way you were carefully brushing locks away from Jisung’s face.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Questioned Xiaojun quietly.

The sad, pitiful, pursed smile on your lips was a silent answer to his query. In truth, you hadn’t actually spent that much time with Jisung — but from the little time you had, you were fairly sure you both knew there was some potential that you were curious to explore. And in the end, regardless of how you personally felt about him, you felt you had a responsibility to stand beside Jisung as he fought back against this utterly corrupt company.

There was an irritation sound of shoes scraping against the carpet as Xiaojun shuffled his feet, running a hand through his hair leaving it messier than it had been prior to his action. He bit the inside of his cheek, clearly feeling uncertain about what to do now.

“Fine — fine!” He repeated, and you figured he was talking to himself more than he was talking to you. “Okay, look. My family has a holiday home further up the coast. If Jisung’s safety really is at risk then you two can stay up there while you figure out a more solid plan of what you’re going to do.”

Xiaojun approached your desk and ripped a scrap of paper from a notepad, scribbling away for a few seconds before he turned back to you. “Here’s the address and access code. Consider this an apology for my terrible behaviour towards a fellow student of mine.”

He handed you the note, his handwriting disorderly but still legible. “If you don’t mind, I am going to leave in order to clear my head. I am really sorry for how I interrupted your class earlier.”

“Thank you, Xiaojun,” you smiled as he opened your office door. He nodded and turned, walking through the threshold as if he hadn’t seen anything. You sighed as you let your head rest against the filing cabinet behind you and decided to wait another couple of minutes for Jisung to gain consciousness before you called an ambulance.

A few minutes later, as you were finally pulling out your phone to dial the hospital, Jisung stirred and slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the harsh artificial light in your office. He managed to sit up from your lap, a blush staining his face as soon as he realised where his head had been resting.

He managed to smile at you, his heart fluttering at the fact you’d stayed with him the whole time he was unconscious. “How long was I out for?”

“About ten minutes,” you replied, watching Jisung stand up on wobbly feet and stretch his arm out to haul you up too. “Xiaojun stayed for most of that time, too.”

His eyes widened at your words, a tentative smile on his face. “He did?”

You grabbed Jisung’s wrist with your left hand, squeezing it softly forcing him to uncurl his fist. With your right hand, you lay Xiaojun’s note in his palm.

“What’s this?” Asked Jisung, eyebrows raised.

“The address to a holiday home Xiaojun’s family owns. He offered to let us go up there while we figure out how to stop LSM Inc recalling you.”

“We?” Jisung smiled, before shaking it off. “No, we can’t do that.”

Your heart tightened at his words, and you instantly started to backpedal. “I—I didn’t mean us! At least if you promise to go without me.”

“I can’t do that either. If you come with me, you’ll be giving up your career. But I don’t want to leave you by yourself either because you could become a target. I would worry about your safety too much to focus on my own,” he admitted, causing your stomach to flutter.

You pushed the feeling down and locked eyes with Jisung. “At least think about Xiaojun’s offer.”

Jisung sighed. “I need time to think.”

“You don’t have time.”

Jisung frowned. “Who would have guessed that when I joined this class, everything would turn out this way. Obviously, I knew something was wrong with the way LSM Inc treated us, but I would have never thought seriously about speaking up. Now I don’t know what I should do.”

“You’re AI — one that has the power to take down LSM Inc. Jisung, your life isn’t ever going to be simple. But you’ll have my support every step of the way, if you want it.”

You rested your palm against Jisung’s forearm, the same way he had reassured you the week prior. Instead of pulling back in nervousness like you expected him to, he locked eyes with you and gave you a smile. He looked to the side as if he was debating something, before he swiftly leaned over and placed a delicate kiss against your cheek, leaving the spot where his lips had jets been tingling with warmth.

Jisung shot you a sheepish look as he distanced himself, shoving Xiaojun’s note in his back pocket, and headed towards the door. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything. I will let you know as soon as I make a decision.”

You grinned at him as he picked up his backpack and exited. You were extremely worried for Jisung’s safety, but on the other side of the coin, you knew he was smart enough to make the decision. All you’d have to do now was wait for his call.

Despite being a robot of extraordinary intelligence, Jisung had the undesirable habit of becoming so absorbed in his surroundings that he often forgot just where he was. So, it made sense that, after he spent most of the day at the university library, he never saw the crowbar aimed straight for the back of his head.

He had just rounded a corner, a short few minutes away from his apartment with freshly cooked takeaways for dinner in his hand, when his masked assailant swung the piece of metal at him. The force of the blow sent Jisung plummeting to the ground where he was able to only just place his hands in front of him to brace himself. The palms of his hand scraped along the asphalt of the footpath and fresh blood started pouring from the open wounds left of his hands.

A searing pain erupted throughout Jisung’s head, the spot where the crowbar collided with his skull throbbed with a pain he had never experienced before — a pain second only to the tests he was subjected to when under the care of LSM Inc. Jisung raised a hand to the back of his head, feeling hot blood running over his fingers. Unsure why he had been the target of a vicious attack such as this and fearing for his life, despite his injuries, Jisung managed to scramble away from his assailant and turn to catch a glimpse of their face.

To his horror, the brown eyes that stared back at him in pure shock were not unfamiliar to him. Standing over Jisung, a crowbar dripping with blood in his grip, was #JSC13901 — alias Sungchan — a prototype robot for the Dream.AI range. When his gaze met Jisung’s own, Sungchan let the weapon fall to the concrete with a loud clatter, a pained expression of regret crossing his face as he dropped down beside his friend.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jisung managed, crawling backward and away from the older robot’s reach.

“Please,” Sungchan pleaded, eyes filling with confusion as his fist grasped around cold air. “That blow to your head was supposed to kill you. Or—or at least knock you unconscious. I don’t know what—”

“Sungchan, what has happened to you?” Jisung questioned as he removed his jersey to wrap it around his head in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Jisung was aware that, as a prototype, Sungchan’s brain wires had been messed with too many times for him to even call his brain his own, now. But Jisung also knew the one part of Sungchan LSM Inc hadn’t got to was his heart, and there was absolutely no way Sungchan would attempt murder unless he was being forced to.

“They sent me to collect you for an early disassemblement,” Sungchan said, his voice raspy and choked with tears. “They’ve been monitoring you, Jisung, and they’re worried because the words ‘LSM Inc’ have appeared too much in your vocabulary. I was supposed to kill you, or at least knock you unconscious, in order to take you back to the lab.”

“I’m studying a course about AI ethics, of course we would be discussing the biggest technology company in class!” Jisung tried, although deep down he knew LSM Inc was fully aware he had told too many people the truth of his existence. All the fight left his body.

“Fine, just make it quick.” Jisung nudged the discarded crowbar with the edge of his shoe. He knew there was no use in trying to fight Sungchan anymore. The blood loss sustained by his head injury was leaving Jisung light-headed and queasy, while Sungchan was unaffected physically by the recent events. If Jisung had to be recalled early, then the least Sungchan could do is knock him out quickly, before Jisung started to think about his teacher — and what he was now going to miss out on.

Sungchan gulped. “I am not going to do that.”

Jisung squinted up at his friend, wondering what had caused the sudden change of heart.

“You have such an opportunity here, Jisung. I’m giving you the chance to escape, to get as far away from our makers as possible. Go somewhere they will be unable to track you and expose them. Jisung, I’m begging you.” Sungchan’s hand trembled almost as much as his voice when he passed the crowbar to the blonde haired boy. “I’m too far gone. I rely on LSM Inc too much now to ever leave — but you can do something to help us all.”

Jisung reluctantly gripped the end of the weapon, Sungchan’s words resounding deeply with him. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You have to hit me with this and make it look like I put up a fight against you but you overpowered me. Please, I will be in big trouble with LSM Inc if they find out I just let you leave.” Upon seeing Jisung’s strong unwillingness to hurt him, Sungchan continued. “You need to do this for all of us, Jisung. I’m sick of living an existence where I am merely a slave to this company. Please, help me.”

Jisung sighed loudly and held his hand out for Sungchan to pull him. Standing face to face, the younger boy still stood nearly a head shorter than his friend. “I’m not going to hit you,” Jisung said, but continued when Sungchan’s face fell. “But, I can do this.”

Dropping Sungchan’s hand, Jisung wobbled on his feet but managed to lock his sights onto Sungchan’s knee. He kicked his leg out, the front of his foot connecting with its target. There was a sickening crack as Sungchan’s knee gave out and he crumpled to the asphalt with a loud scream, Jisung flinched at the noise.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, stumbling back and pulling his phone from his pocket.

“I know, I know,” Sungchan replied through gritted teeth. This injury would heal, it always did. It was a small sacrifice for the danger Jisung was going to put himself in by exposing the company.

Tripping backward, Jisung barely made it around the side of the building complex this had all taken place in front of and managed to open the university website on his phone. Scrolling through a couple of pages, he found the email he was looking for and switched to his email app.

Jisung Park: Hi Y/N, it’s Jisung. Would you be able to pick me up from [address]? It’s pretty urgent.

A few moments later, you replied.

Y/N: Oh god, I’m on my way now. Please tell me you’re okay

Jisung Park: Might need a trip to the hospital, kind of have a tiny bit of an injury.

Jisung Park: I think we should take up Xiaojun’s offer

“Good morning, everyone. I’m glad to see most of you here for our last lecture of the term.” You nodded towards your students, pausing when you made eye contact with Jisung.

Last week, when you’d received an email from him claiming he was in urgent need of your help, you had been doing some work in your office but dropped everything to drive over to the address he sent you. You were horrified to find him struggling to hold himself up against the brick wall of a building, his body swaying precariously as a slow, steady trickle of blood dribbled from the back of his head.

You’d instantly bundled Jisung into your car and taken him to the hospital, where he had told the doctors a vague story of being attacked by a strange man and received multiple stitches for his injury. He stayed in the hospital for the next two days and had begged you to remain with him, when you agreed he finally confessed what had truly happened. When he was released from hospital Jisung, fearing for his life, had spent the next few days sleeping on the couch at your house. The arrangement was almost domestic, if you could look past the fact your boyfriend who actually wasn’t your boyfriend was being hunted by a fearless organisation.

“Today we are going to discuss the arguments for AI humanity. That is, AI robots should be considered just as human as you and I.

“Now, as we have spent the past five weeks discussing, research proves that AI is capable of experiencing human emotions: happiness, excitement, love. Therefore, we can proficiently argue that robots, like humans, have two basic mechanisms — reward and aversion. Does that mean then, when an AI system’s reward function gives it a negative input, that it is suffering? Could we — and should we — go so far as to say that when AI is ‘deleted’, or destroyed, that this is murder?”

You paced in your pacing at the front of the class, holding steady eye contact with your students and letting your words sink in. “Now, I want to hear your thoughts on this!”

Jisung, seated in the front row, slowly raised his hand. You waited for a few seconds, seeing if any other of his classmates were willing to offer their opinion before you gave Jisung the floor.

“I think that, whether you actually consider AI human or not, there’s really no debate that accepting AI into society will bring more benefits than anything to us all,” Jisung stated. “This is what we have been discussing for so long, after all.”

From the right corner, Xiaojun put his arm in the air. “Yes, Xiaojun?” When you addressed him, the rest of the students in your class visibly bristled, turning towards the boy in question and waiting for him to argue against Jisung’s point.

“I agree with what Jisung is saying, 100%,” Xiaojun confided, his head held high and a proud gleam in his eyes. Clearly, the rest of the class was not expecting to ever hear him agree with Jisung — the student in front of Xiaojun fully turned in his seat to face him, not even bothering to hide his surprise.

“Take LSM Inc’s Dream.AI robots, for example,” Xiaojun went on. “As we discussed, they are programmed to recognise and react to human emotions and, after careful consideration on my part, I believe that this means they are more sentient and real than many other forms of AI.”

He turned to face Jisung, speaking his next words directly to his classmate. “I want to sincerely apologise to you, Jisung, for relentlessly attacking you without actually attempting to see things from your point of view. I hope you are able to one day show society who the real enemies are.”

With Xiaojun’s cryptic words, Jisung thanked him for his apology and looked at you, allowing you to take back control of the discussion and lead the rest of the class. At the end of the hour, you wrapped up your lecture and wished your students the best for their two week holiday.

“Are you ready?” Jisung asked as he approached you after the rest of the class cleared out.

“I should be the one asking you that,” you laughed, packing away your laptop.

“I’ve never been to the coast. I hope the weather is nice up there.”

Jisung offered you his hand, which you happily took as the pair of you headed towards the station in the centre of the city. You were both unsure of what the future held — of course, there really were so many unknown variables when you plan to take down the biggest technology company in the country — but Jisung was placated with the knowledge that no matter what happened now, he would always have you by his side, every step of the way.

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