MAVE: Prequel – The Emergence of SUPER AI

 Writer: Kei Lee, Jiwoo Park, Jaeho Kang

 Translated by Luna

Prequel Episode 1

The year 2039.

In cities where global warming and dust cloud warnings have become commonplace, spring has vanished, refugees fleeing from desertification, food shortages, and war have exceeded 300 million, and the sky is now perpetually filled with thick clouds, making the notion of stargazing at night a thing of the past.

 ***

On a night in June when the summer heatwave was already setting in:

- Buzz

Yejun's smartwatch vibrated, and a message popped up.

[Yejun, Mom tried again. We're past the danger zone. Can you come?]

The message was from his younger sister, Yeri.

...Is Mom's depression getting worse?

Quickly changing into uniform marked with No. 121, Yejun swiftly typed out a reply.

[Once this test is over, I'll send the hospital fees right away, so for now...]

"Have you finished changing?"

As the dressing room door opened, the instructor appeared.

"Yes, sir!"

"Move!"

"Move!"

Following the instructor's orders, the trainees, dressed in combat uniforms, began to step out of the room one by one in an orderly fashion.

Yejun, who had passed various trials such as individual combat and skirmishes during the two-month test period, had only one final test left, just like the other 127 trainees.

It was the last chance to earn a significant amount of money. In a way, it was an opportunity that might never come again in his life. Yejun didn't want to miss out on his chance.

'...I've sent the message, so everything should be fine for now.'

Yejun took off his smartwatch and tossed it into his personal locker. However, for some reason, he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from it.

"?"

"Yejun!"

"?"

When Yejun turned to the direction of the voice, he saw Hyunwoo, his friend from elementary school. Standing in line ahead of him, Hyunwoo slightly turned his head to glance at Yejun and quietly mouthed a few words.

"Lam-bor-ghi-ni."

"Ah..."

"Don't forget."

Hyunwoo left the locker room with the other trainees in formation, and Yejun chuckled as he remembered the promise his friend had made him to give him a ride once he earned enough money to buy one.

Yeah, first, I have to pass the test.

A few months ago, Yejun and Hyunwoo came across a recruitment notice from the private security company "AG-PSC" while playing a coin mining game. The advertisement offered an annual salary of 100K dollars, along with performance bonuses and separate hazard pay, free accommodations, and 20% salary during the three-month training period. In an era of mass unemployment due to the replacement of human labor with AI, any unemployed person in their late twenties would not have been able to pass up such an opportunity. They both submitted their applications side by side and miraculously passed the selection process despite the staggering competition rate of 210 to 1. The two of them hugged tightly and jumped up and down in joy when they found out. They even took a commemorative photo in front of the building complex "Small Earth," where the company headquarters were located. Little did they know that this photo, now set as the background on Yejun's smartwatch, would be their last one taken together.

 ***

On that fateful night, the city, abandoned by its fallen dictatorship, was engulfed in complete darkness. Even amidst the darkness, the sky remained obscured, and no stars were visible.

Gradually, the VTOL vehicles carrying the trainees, who wore their elongated helmets resembling cockroach carapaces tightly against the backs of their necks, silently landed on the riverside road.. The trainees swiftly disembarked, clad in state-of-the-art combat suits and boots equipped with soundproofing devices, allowing the 127 trainees to move quietly, even quieter than the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Yejun glanced around discreetly.

Is this the location of our final mission?

The final mission comprised two objectives: to identify civilians and terrorists in the area and to eliminate or apprehend the terrorists. However, given that the targets were all veterans with over ten years of experience, it was an impossible mission for inexperienced rookies to accomplish alone.

"This is unbelievable."

"And they said it would be easy money. Tsk..."

"Well, it's always like that."

As the trainees murmured among themselves, the company, seemingly anticipating such reactions, recommended their newly developed AI helmets. They claimed that wearing the helmet would allow the AI to directly transmit the expertise of veteran combat operatives to the wearer's brain.

The equipment cost 300K dollars, a hefty sum equivalent to three years' salary at the company. However, the terms were favorable: if accepted, long-term interest-free installment plans were provided, and if rejected, the equipment could be returned without any usage fees. There was no reason not to use it. No, it was a given that they had to use it.

Phew, they said I just have to press this button, right?

In front of the assigned building, Yejun pressed the button on the AI system of his trembling helmet with his shaky fingertips.

[We will now begin the final mission. I will guide you to the target using the safest and fastest route.]

The instructions from the AI operator echoed through the advanced helmet, and simultaneously, a map displaying the route lit up.

The AI quickly read the surrounding information through its sensors and adjusted the optimal route based on the trainees' movements.

Huh? Isn't this just like any regular navigation system? Yejun thought, but before he could dwell on it, the darkness projected onto his helmet goggles transformed into a picturesque scene. The entrance of a European-style building gleamed with intricately carved marble sculptures, boasting of a bygone era of opulence. Corridors surrounding the central staircase extended up to the ninth floor.

Yejun felt a chill run down his spine. It was as if the AI had read his childhood dreams of that era.

[No.121, proceed to the target location.]

"Ah, roger that."

Yejun hurriedly followed the AI's guidance, feeling like anything less wouldn't suffice. And as if anticipating their thoughts, the AI guided Yejun and the other trainees through the fastest route.

Every staircase and corridor were filled with utensils and umbrellas, remnants of the makeshift homes occupied by refugees in the abandoned building. Following the AI's information, Yejun and the trainees moved silently, avoiding the clutter.

"So far, so good."

The mission was on the fifth floor. Yejun scanned the faces of those sleeping in each room using sensors, resorting to tranquilizing those whose faces were difficult to see. Then, he collected their fingerprints. The AI accessed the database to confirm their identities, all of whom were civilians.

Only room 509 remained. The interior was serene, with colorful fabric draped over the clotheslines strung across the living room—traditional Myanmar skirts, known as "longyi," worn by the women.

Yejun ventured further into the room, holding up the longyi. With each turn of his head, sensors attached to his helmet scanned for information.

Tools for writing, scissors, bed legs...

Details and locations of metallic objects that could serve as weapons were displayed on the goggles as augmented reality.

[No firearms detected.]

The helmet, connected to his brain, projected the AI's message directly into Yejun's mind.

Entering the room, Yejun saw a lump on the bed, but there was no movement. The infrared camera on his helmet displayed body heat as light. A thin leg extended from under the blanket, glowing yellow at a temperature of 98.2 degrees Fahrenheit.

Is she a civilian or a terrorist?

The woman lay on her back, covered by the blanket, her face obscured from view. Yejun approached the bed cautiously. Using the barrel of his rifle, he lifted the blanket covering the woman's face.

[Height: 5 feet 7 inches, Weight: 119 pounds, Sex: female.]

As her face gradually became visible, with its slender jawline and prominent nose,

[Target identified.]

In an instant, the woman sprang up, throwing the blanket over Yejun's head. Immediately.

- Bang!

"Urgh!"

As the gunshot rang out, a powerful impact followed. Yejun collapsed to the ground.

[Thigh penetrated, severe injury.]

A tremendous pain pulsed through him. It felt like he might pass out.

[Artery ruptured, excessive bleeding. Hemostatic measures needed.]

Hearing the AI's voice, Yejun struggled to hold onto his fading consciousness.

- Click!

However, before him, Yejun saw the barrel of the rifle belonging to the terrorist disguised as a civilian woman. No, actually, it was Yejun's own rifle.

Gah, I didn't even realize I was being disarmed by the woman lying there.

With his fingers immobilized, Yejun closed his eyes in fear and resignation.

"This is the end," he thought, when just then…

[Suppressing pain. Removing fear. Initiating autonomous mode.]

The AI activated "autonomous mode."

"Gah!"

Yejun's pupils dilated abnormally, appearing unnaturally large, as if they were about to engulf his entire iris. Every muscle in his body tensed up like a carnivorous predator ready to pounce on its prey.

Yejun, or rather the AI, swung Yejun's injured leg to strike the woman's jaw.

"Ugh!"

The woman let out a brief sound before falling backward. Simultaneously, the rifle returned to Yejun's hand, moving at an imperceptible speed.

- Bang! Bang!

The muzzle flashed, and bullets sprayed, striking the woman's head in rapid succession.

With her turban now unwound into a halo behind her, the woman collapsed. There was no movement.

[No vital signs detected. Target eliminated.]

It was an instant kill.

"Whoa, what, whoa… Huh?"

Finally regaining his senses, Yejun looked down to find a pool of warm blood beneath him. Something hot oozed from the hole in his thigh, dampening his pants.

[Excessive bleeding. Administering emergency treatment.]

Yejun retrieved a syringe from the pocket of his combat suit and plunged it into the hole in his thigh. Hemostatic agents flowed in, staunching the bleeding. The pain subsided, and his leg felt like someone else's.

[Hemostasis successful. Continuing mission.]

Yejun opened the door and stepped out. After ascending to the upper floor, the woman's body was nowhere to be found. Neither were the turban and furniture that had filled the room, nor the refugees who had been sleeping in other rooms.

 ***

Above the dome-shaped training ground, looking out from the central control room extending to the ceiling, AG Entertainment's President Hae-na Kang and AG Brain Lab Director Sung-han Park were observing the events going on below.

On the two huge screens, different scenes unfolded against the same backdrop. One displayed the reality, while the other showed the augmented reality being experienced by the trainees.

On one screen, trainees were fighting terrorists in narrow corridors and rooms filled with household items. On the other screen, empty corridors and rooms were visible, with trainees' hands and feet moving through empty space. The trainees were engaging with enemies in the 'augmented reality' that did not exist in the real world.

The brain stimulation devices attached to their helmets manipulated their senses, altering the reality they saw and felt.

"Wow! You are truly a genius! Director, you are amazing," Hae-na exclaimed, flashing a bright smile at Sung-han.

No matter how much time Sung-han spent with Hae-na, he could not get used to her ageless appearance.

"It's nothing. This is all thanks to you, Madam President," Sung-han replied humbly.

When Sung-han responded with as much politeness as possible, Hae-na interjected.

"Oh my, if it weren't for you, Director, how could we have achieved such a performance?"

"The AI provided by AG Entertainment was truly outstanding. As soon as we input the combat data of the agents, it instantly completed the analysis. Thanks to that, we were able to fulfill the schedule and personnel requirements requested by the committee for agent recruitment. Thank you."

Upon hearing this, Hae-na quietly spoke up.

"Actually, that's our Baby's creation."

"Baby? Ah..."

Hae-na glanced around at the surrounding researchers before smiling at Sung-han.

"You know," she whispered, lowering her voice slightly, "SAI."

Realizing she had mentioned an entity that shouldn't be discussed, Sung-han quickly changed the subject.

"Oh, by the way, I heard that AG Entertainment was assigned a special mission this time. If successful, our workload might decrease. Hahaha."

"You really think so? Brain Lab's workload will only increase. That's why I'm here. Please let us use that technology."

"Are you talking about the military technology?"

"Originally, all the technologies that changed the world were for military use. Those technologies end up in civilian use for entertainment or other purposes. The internet and smartphones spread the same way."

Surprised, Sung-han murmured softly, "It manipulates the senses, and considering the high cost of the equipment, it's not really suited for general use..."

"That's why the committee entrusted our Entertainment division with the mission. We're not just manipulating the senses. We're aiming to eliminate unnecessary emotions, emotions that are harmful to us. It's to address a common problem for humanity."

Glancing around, Sung-han looked at Hae-na and said, "Let me guide you to a more comfortable seating area."

Hae-na lightly placed her hand on Sung-han's arm and they exited the control room.

At that moment, a researcher monitoring the training process witnessed a peculiar scene. The non-player characters (NPCs), including the terrorists in combat or lying unconscious and the civilians sleeping, all opened their eyes simultaneously and gazed at the other side of the control room beyond the screens.

"Whoa, whoa, Kim, did you see this?" He hurriedly called another researcher over.

"What?" But the characters had returned to their positions, either lying down or engaging in combat.

Perplexed, the researcher played back the recording to the moment he had seen.

"Ah, I definitely saw it. Look here, look. See, they're watching us."

In the frozen frame, the characters were indeed gazing at the researchers beyond the screen. It was a peculiar gaze, conveying sadness, weariness, or perhaps a longing for something.

"Huh? What's going on?"

"What's this all about?"

Other researchers gathered around the screen, murmuring in surprise at the captured scene.

"Well, this is strange."

"We've never seen anything like this before."

"Let's put it in the report for now."

A few days later, the analysis report returned with the conclusion of a 'program bug caused by the collision of two softwares.' However, some researchers remained unconvinced by this conclusion. Rumors of unidentified spiritual phenomena or the emergence of self-awareness in AI began to spread both inside and outside the research facility.

***