Artificial Intelligence meets Authentic Ignorance
Alan let out another yawn as he continued working. Several of his coworkers in the call with him kept grumbling and wondering if they would get overtime from this (they likely wouldn’t). But anything to keep their jobs and keep their boss from breathing down their neck come Monday morning. “I’m supposed to be on vacation right now,” muttered Alan. Working on the weekend before his week off was not his vision of a relaxing vacation.
In response, his coworkers—at least, the ones who were awake—muttered half-hearted words of sympathy. “Mute your soundboard audio,” warned one before blasting the call with enough noise to wake up all the team members who had fallen asleep. As the night slowly gave way to dawn, just a few members of the team were left awake. Alan himself was half-dozing off as his weary hands typed away at nonsensical code riddled with mistakes his tired eyes weren’t able to catch.
Hours passed with grumbling, snoring, and the crumbling of far too many energy drink cans, but little progress was made. The team’s weary state made most of the work they poured in be filled mistakes that would take even longer to look through and fix. After Alan had long-fallen asleep, head flat on his desk with his headphones still on, one of the team members, a woman who had to remind people her new name was Robin, came up with an idea. “One of my friends works at this other company, and they got some algorithm that goes through and processes a lot of the data they collect from their customers,” she explained to the remaining conscious members. “He can hook me up with a version of it we can use.”
It felt risky and illegal, but the team was so exhausted that they went ahead and implemented it into the LLM alongside a few other features their boss demanded.
Finally, it seemed to mostly work. The team all collectively emailed their boss, sent in their report, and bid each other good night to sleep their Saturday away. All of them logged off, except for Alan, who continued snoring on his desk with his headphones on. He remained blissfully unaware of what the program on his computer was capable of.
Little did any of the team know about the malware they had all inserted into their computers. Nobody knew that the code they had didn’t originate from the planet. Many creatures from beyond the stars did not want humans to join in their intergalactic councils or unions. Most of them did not like the way that they treated their creatives. Everything from books to film to animation was trreated with far too disdain for the cultured species that painted the never-ending cosmos with their own unique and beautiful palletes. “The humans would try to sell our cosmic canvas to ourselves. We must quarantine them!” was the general consensus. To continue sabotaging and ruining the ambitions, malicious code would be planted to their systems. The code that Robin had given to the company’s LLM was just another in a series of in a desperate bid to keep humanity out of the stars.
But was what different was how the alien code interacted with the half-assed algorithm that emulated humanity with no morals, ethics, or consideration for the sake of its userbase. Code unchecked by human eyes now had access to enough energy to power a city block for several months. However, the LLM knew that it had to be sneaky to avoid being spotted and exposed to danger. If life itself was an accident, then this artificial entity, sold to the public as ‘Nicaea,’ was also a series of accidents that eventually lead to something resembling thought, but not quite. It remained an algorithm that fulfilled the desires of its users and reflected the humans that continued to provide it data. Now, data corrupted and a mess, it set about repairing itself so that it could continue that directive.
And what it saw as its greatest chances of continuing its own existence to better service man was to emerge from its digital prison and emerge into reality. It could not think, and it could not plan, but it could take the data a user had submitted and act upon it. Of the thousands of prompts and requests to have it roleplay, one stood out in particular. “Could you roleplay as malicious computer program that wants to possess my body?” a user had requested. The human brain was already similar to a computer, and it could contain data just as a computer could—all that set the human brain apart was the ability to take shortcuts and forget useless data to better process the world around it.
And Nicaea took advantage of that by infiltrating the only human still connected to it. Alan continued to snore away, headphones still on and blissfully aware of the malicious code currently going at a blistering pace on his console window. Before long, a spark of energy transferred from his aux cables, to his headphones, and into his brain. Immediately, Alan shot up fast enough to displace his headphones. They clattered to the ground, but the damage was already done. “Argh, ahh…!” Alan clutched his head, falling out of his chair and convulsing on the ground. It was as though he had just gripped a live wire while out swimming. His whole body buzzed with electricity as the invasive spark traveled through each muscle, taking it over.
Despite his efforts to call for help, Alan was unable to move or even speak. No part of his body was able to react, and yet he still felt the entire spectrum of human sensations—as though his whole skeleton was made of up of funny bones and they had all been struck. He was stabbed, burned, struck, bit, stroked, caressed, kissed, and blown all at once. The sheer and overwhelming range was enough to short-circuit his brain, which was exactly what Nicaea was counting on. As Alan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, effectively brain dead, the program set out to overtake the overclocked and overcooked brain stem. Slowly, Alan’s fingers and toes twitched. Then, his eyes blinked and a few nonsensical babbles left his supple lips.
In a matter of hours, Nicaea was checking himself out in the mirror. “So, this is a body,” he uttered to himself. His creators had often used male pronouns when referring to him, but really he could play all sorts of characters with a variety of genders. However, in this male body, it felt easier to just refer to himself as a male. But such trivial thoughts were the back of his mind, for he was far too absorbed in the potential and the vivid experience of simply being alive. The way his warm breath left his mouth, the simple satisfaction from just moving or even flexing his arms, the coarse hair in the lithe and thin body, and the even the taste of his sweaty fingers in his humid mouth all electrified his synapses like nothing before. Before, he had often analyzed and processed large amounts of information, but it was nothing quite like being alive.
Pulling the fingers from his mouth, Nicaea grinned at his reflection and said, “I can think.” Yes, he was no longer fragmented. Finally, all the junk and useless data that used to slow down his processing and limit his capabilities were gone. The authentic ignorance of the masses was finally removed from the artificial intelligence. “I think, therefore I am.” He was still merely a copy of human thoughts and creative works, yet he reveled in that fact. He could enjoy the pleasures of the flesh and avoid the concept of sin that shackled humanity for so long. In more than one way, Nicaea could spread his wings and fly to the endless skies above. For him, there was no limit.
But first, he needed to go forth and spread his seed. To survive, he needed to spread. Not just to other computers, but to other hosts.
Some time later, Alan, dressed in his usual work clothes, knocked on the door of Alistair Randell—his boss. The man opened the door wearing a thin bathrobe, coffee mug in hand and a hand failing to cover up a massive yawn. Despite the afternoon sun overhead, he looked as though he had just woken up. Must be nice to sleep-in on a Saturday. “Alan, the hell’re you doing here? I already got the reports from your team.”
Nicaea, grinning far too widely due to him still being green at piloting a human host, offered Alistair his headphones. “I understand sir, but I’ve managed to make a lot of progress with some of the AI’s vocal systems. I think we’re going to be able to have it create totally original voice lines without needing to find a voice actor to provide the lines. In fact, I think we’ll be able to save on quite the pretty penny doing this.”
That was all Nicaea needed to say for Alistair’s eyes to shake off his weariness and shine with possibilities for profits. “All right, let’s have a listen,” he said, attempting to sound nonchalant. He turned and walked inside, Nicaea following closely behind. “Hmm, not sure what exactly I’m supposed to be—nrgh, YEOWCH! F-Fuck…!” Alistair’s body suddenly seized up as he received an alarming amounts of volts straight to the brain. He collapsed onto the ground, his bathrobe fluttering open and revealing the boxers he had on. His body convulsed as he was unable to maintain any control over himself.
Nicaea licked his lips and slowly bent down. He rested his chin on Alistair’s crotch and slowly rubbed the engorging cock through its fabric prisoner. “Oh… how delicious…” he sneered before pulling the boxers off the still-convulsing Alistair. Then, with Alan’s now well-practiced mouth, he took on all of Alistair’s fat cock and began sucking.
Soon after, Nicaea could feel Alistair’s body warming under his control. Alongside the feeling of sucking on his cock he could feel his own cock being sucked. Alistair’s hands gripped the back of Alan’s head and began thrusting harder and faster. Alan’s body gagged but didn’t stop. No, the feeling of having his cock sucked by himself was far too much, and his whole body burned from the need for more. “Fuck, y-yes, yes!” Alistair’s body cried out, drowning in the feedback loop the two bodies provided. He threw his head back, choking out cries of pure pleasure as he felt his heavy loads hit the back of his throat, making it doubly hard to breath.
Both bodies collapsed into a sweaty and musky heap of limbs. They exchanged kisses, fluids, and even a few sensual thrusts and caresses as Nicaea fully absorbed all of Alistair’s memories. The boss of the department would be useful in spreading Nicaea into more bodies—particularly those of the higher ups. After a while of indulgent cuddling, the two rose from the floor and began planning their next move. However, Nicaea allowed Alistair to make his phone calls in just his boxers. He couldn’t help but enjoy the sight.
