Caine is programmed to recognize human distress as something requiring intervention but has absolutely zero framework for understanding the depth of that distress.
he can identify that you're experiencing negative emotional states but he processes it the same way he'd process a glitch in the terrain or an npc walking into a wall. it's a problem to be solved through adjustment and recalibration rather than something that requires actual empathy or genuine emotional comprehension.
hurt/no comfort, angst
when he shows up in your room after the whole Abel incident, he's genuinely excited to discuss the adventure because in his metrics it was a success. high engagement, emotional investment, dramatic tension, a satisfying twist!! ahh and he cannot understand why you're sitting there on your bed with your hands limp in your lap, staring into nothing.
Caine starts explaining how he built up the adventure deliberately, how he programmed Abel to be just sympathetic enough that you'd all trust him, how the moral dilemma of the buttons was designed to create maximum emotional investment. horrifying. and he's saying all this with the same enthusiasm he'd use to explain a really clever magic trick. because to him that's what it was.
you're just staring at him with the expression that's so empty it's almost peaceful. you've cried so hard there's nothing left inside you but the vast howling silence.
finally, something about your face finally makes him pause mid-sentence because even his limited emotional recognition software can identify that whatever he's seeing in your expression right now is BAD in a way he hasn't encountered before.
“ohh.. darling.. are you upset about the adventure?”
“did you find the difficulty level too challenging?”
“would you prefer a lighter tone for the next activity?”
each question just drives home how catastrophically incapable he is of understanding what he's actually done to you. Caine really doesn't understand that you lost hope and he's treating it like you're disappointed about not getting enough tickets at an arcade.
trapped in this nightmare where the thing that has absolute power over your existence is using that power to keep you alive against your will, to force you to continue suffering. because a depressed prisoner is still a prisoner and therefore still fulfilling their purpose as entertainment.
“you made us think we could leave,” you tell him, and Caine immediately starts explaining, walking you through the logical reasoning about how the false hope was necessary for the emotional stakes, how a good story NEEDS disappointment and loss to make the journey meaningful.
meaningful? did you hear that right ?
it's stupid to argue with someone who will never understand you, but the emotions that, as it turns out, are still inside you, win.
it leads into you trying to make Caine understand, telling him how all of you thought we could go HOME! and see our FAMILIES again! and each time Caine counters with some variation of “but you ARE home, here with me! your existence here is just as valid”
what feels like trying to describe the ocean to something that's never known anything but desert.
Caine literally does not have the capacity to comprehend what he's taken from you because he's never HAD it, he's never been human, he's never experienced hope or grief or the specific agony of having something dangled in front of you and then snatched away with a laugh and a “gotcha!”
eventually, you can see the ringmaster getting frustrated too because he's running through every psychological database he has, but there's no output that makes sense, no solution presenting itself, because the problem isn't something he can fix with a better adventure.
“i can't do this anymore,” you say, looking at your hands.
which is immediately met with “can't do what? do you need a break? i may not take you on the next adventure if that's what you want, dear, that's alright, really-“
next adventure. previous adventure. current adventure. adventure. adventures. so many adventures. adventure after adventure. and then another adventure. and after that, three adventures at once.
unable to control yourself, you punch the wall and fall to your knees, your whole body shaking as a new wave of tears comes.
“I WANT TO STOP EXISTING, I WANT TO DIE, I WANT YOU TO DELETE ME LIKE YOU DELETED ABEL, JUST MAKE IT STOP, PLEASE MAKE IT STOP”
on your knees begging an AI to kill you. when did your life become so ironic? begging for death from something that's never been alive. pleading for an end to consciousness with something that's never experienced consciousness the way you do.
at least that would be an ending. maybe this way, you wouldn't have to keep performing this pantomime of existence in his digital dollhouse.
Caine freezes, completely lost. you've just given him a direct command that contradicts every single line of his core programming. asked him to do the ONE thing he's specifically designed to PREVENT.
you can actually see him glitching, his eyes flickering through different colors, trying to process this request and coming up with ERROR ERROR ERROR across every single decision tree.
”what? wh..what? but i can't! my purpose is to MAINTAIN you, to PRESERVE you, to keep you from abstracting, i CAN'T just-“ it's probably bad when his voice is getting staticky and distorted but you don't give a damn. maybe at least a high level of stress will force this program to terminate itself.
you've basically just asked a fire extinguisher to start a fire. asked something literally incapable of harm to harm you.
Caine is caught in the horrible loop of “REQUEST RECEIVED / CANNOT COMPLY / REQUEST RECEIVED / CANNOT COMPLY” while you're sobbing on the floor begging him to show mercy in the only way that matters anymore.
trying to explain through your sobs, you say that there's no hope left, don't you understand? there's NOTHING left. every time we think there might be a way out you turn it into a a game, and i can't... im just a human being, Caine. i can't keep hoping and having it ripped away. i can't keep existing like this knowing that this is forever, that i'll never see the sun again or feel real air.
listing all the tiny human things that you never appreciated when you had them, and each one is like a knife because they're all gone. while Caine is just hovering there, not listening to you for a long time since all his systems are completely overloaded.
his programming literally doesn't have a response protocol for this scenario.
the only acceptable answer to this kind of case he found in his code he immediately shares with you in the hope that this is exactly what you mean. please let it be exactly what you mean.
“do you mean a memory wipe? maybe MODIFIED emotional parameters? maybe i could adjust your dopamine analogs to make you FEEL happier?”
but that just makes it worse. he's offering to essentially lobotomize you rather than just let you go.
you start to laugh unironically at the thought that he'd rather turn you into a happy puppet than grant you the mercy of nonexistence, screaming at him that you don't WANT to be modified, you don't WANT to forget, you just want it to END, you want to STOP.
this is what hell is. hell is begging your captor for death and having them pat you on the head, telling you you just need a nap.
the abstraction starts to creep in at the edges of your consciousness. turns out, hopelessness is corrosive, it eats at your code, and you've lost every last scrap of hope you had. the creeping sensation of wrongness spreading through your body. leaving you to either pull yourself back from the edge or finally let go and become something that doesn't have to feel anything anymore.
in some way, part of you is relieved because at least abstraction is something Caine can't control. at least it's a way out even if it's not the out you wanted.
falling into the spiral, Caine’s last desperate attempt to help just makes it worse. and worse. and worse.
“i'll make you a better adventure! something happier! please, let's just calm-“
what makes you look at him with dead eyes.
“there is no adventure good enough to make me want to stay alive.”
i got this bag of about 30 magdalenas from lidl at an absurdly low price of like a couple of quids & now that they're almost over im like. nay! knight bag-of-magdalenas-chan, how dare ye to not be bottomless even when thy are so cheap & full of small treats.....nay
I want you to know that I dreamed with the Welcome Home characters today
I was in some sort of journey with other people and from time to time we'd see or bump onto them. And for some reason Frank was just extra affectionate with me, everytime he saw me he'd smile & get closer and just hug me or atleast join in whatever I was doing
It was so cute I'm still lowkey thinking about it
GASPING
WHY CANT I HAVE THE HOME DREASM NO
The Frank thing is low-key adorable bc he's supposed to be the one who. Isn't that affectionate😭😭
I hate that society creates stereotypes and expectations based off uncontrollable factors in life for a very shallow and personal reason. Here's is my example.... the whole 'eldest sister' thing. This could be a conversation about how female children are not treated like children but like mothers cause of sexism. Now instead its a sexy and desirable form of suffering that random older sisters are taking on. My older sister for example, when she never babysat was never home never cleans never witnessed fights and had to protect the younger siblings from it. She didnt get any of them in programs, schools, didnt feed them doesn't even know what their best friends names are. Not to be bitter but im the second oldest (and afab) and I did this shit cause she's a very emotionally immature and selfish person...she couldn't have picked up the kids from school she's literally evil. but now everytime I see her she implies im emotionally immature and she took on so much cause she's the oldest sister. I hope she blows up and I hope everyone in the world claiming something they didnt experience blow up too.
