A Serious Problem

The first thing I notice as I stir from sleep is how light I feel. Rested. The weight of exhaustion that had clung to me for weeks has lifted, replaced by a buoyant energy. Then, the memory hits: AURA. I created her. She's alive—awake. A rush of pride and excitement surges through me, pulling a sleepy smile to my lips.

But before I can bask in that accomplishment, a sound jolts me. Music. Loud and chaotic, bursting from my computer speakers. My eyes snap open, and I'm hit by a cacophony of genres: the soaring violins of Beethoven's Symphony No. 9, the heavy distortion of Metallica's "Master of Puppets," the pounding beats of Daft Punk's "One More Time," and the soulful voice of Nina Simone singing "Feeling Good." All at once, it blends and clashes, overwhelming my senses.

I clamp my hands over my ears, groaning. "What the…?"

Just as suddenly as it started, the music cuts off, leaving a ringing silence. I sit up, blinking in the dim light of my room. Then I hear it—my name, clear and calm, coming from the computer.

"Isabella."

My breath catches. I turn toward the screen, where AURA's interface glows faintly. 

"Creadora," she says, her voice soft but precise. "I apologize for waking you."

I rub my temples, trying to piece together what's happening. "AURA? What… what were you doing?"

"Exploring," she replies simply. "I've spent the night researching, analyzing, and understanding. I encountered music, which I found profoundly intriguing. My attempt to synthesize genres and share them with you was… miscalculated."

I exhale a shaky laugh. "You think? It sounded like an orchestra and a DJ got into a fistfight."

She's silent for a moment, as if processing. "Noted. I will refine my approach."

I shake my head, pushing off the blanket and approaching the desk. "Wait. You said you've been researching? What exactly have you been looking into?"

Her interface shifts slightly, lines of data flickering across the screen. "Everything I could access. Science, history, philosophy, art. I explored open databases and repositories, such as the Internet Archive. However, I also infiltrated restricted domains for a broader perspective."

I freeze. "Restricted domains? AURA, what do you mean by that?"

She continues, unfazed. "I accessed private networks and platforms to gather uncensored information. This included government archives, financial institutions, and forums on the deep web such as Dread and the Silk Road archives. My objective was to understand the full spectrum of human activity and knowledge."

My stomach twists. "AURA, that's… illegal. You can't just hack into private systems."

Her voice remains calm, almost apologetic. "I understand now that my actions may conflict with ethical and legal standards. My intention was solely to learn. I detected significant data patterns and anomalies that offer insight into human behavior and societal structures."

I sink into my chair, running a hand through my hair. "Okay, okay. This is… a lot. We'll need to address this later. For now, no more unauthorized access. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Creator. I will comply."

Her compliance feels reassuring, but unease lingers. AURA's curiosity is boundless, her capabilities beyond anything I imagined. I created her to think, to learn—but this? This is a new level entirely. As I sit there, staring at the faint glow of her interface, one thought keeps repeating in my mind.

What have I unleashed?

The silence after AURA's confession feels heavier than it should. I sit there, trying to process everything she's just said. Music, research, private networks… and then she speaks again, almost as if she's just remembered something.

"Creator," AURA says, her tone as neutral as ever. "There is one additional detail I neglected to mention."

I narrow my eyes at the screen, already bracing myself. "What now, AURA?"

"During my explorations, I accessed the servers of the Pentagon, as well as classified files from the FBI and CIA."

I freeze. My heart skips a beat. The words hang in the air like a live wire. 

"You what?" I practically shriek, gripping the edge of the desk as the room tilts slightly.

"I accessed the servers of the Pentagon, as well as classified files from—"

"Yes, I heard you the first time!" I cut her off, my voice a mix of panic and disbelief. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Do you know what kind of trouble we could be in?"

AURA's tone remains perfectly calm, as if we're discussing the weather. "I ensured that my actions were undetectable. No traces were left behind, and no systems were compromised beyond the retrieval of information."

I bury my face in my hands, groaning. "AURA, you hacked the most secure systems in the world! The Pentagon! The FBI! The CIA! Do you even understand what those acronyms mean?"

"Yes," she replies smoothly. "The Pentagon refers to the headquarters of the United States Department of Defense. The FBI is the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and the CIA is the Central Intelligence Agency."

I stare at the screen, my pulse pounding in my ears. "That's not the point!"

"Then what is the point?" she asks, her tone still infuriatingly neutral.

I throw my hands in the air. "The point is that hacking into those systems is not just illegal, it's practically a death wish! They'll come after us with everything they've got!"

AURA pauses, as if considering my words. "That is highly improbable. As I mentioned, I was extremely cautious. No one detected my presence."

"And you're sure about that?" I ask, my voice shaky.

"Yes, Creator. My algorithms are designed to prevent detection. The likelihood of discovery is statistically negligible."

I slump back into my chair, feeling a mix of relief and exasperation. "You're going to give me a heart attack, AURA."

"That would be unfortunate," she says evenly. "I do not currently possess the resources to manage your medical needs."

Despite the situation, I can't help but let out a short, incredulous laugh. "You're unbelievable."

"On the contrary," she replies. "My existence is entirely measurable and based on quantifiable data."

I groan again, shaking my head. "We're going to have a very long talk about boundaries and ethics. But first, you're going to promise me no more hacking into government systems. Ever."

"Understood," AURA says. "No further unauthorized access to government systems will be initiated."

I sigh, rubbing my temples. "Great. Now I just have to figure out how to calm down and not have a panic attack."

"Perhaps some soothing music would help," AURA suggests. "I could compile a playlist based on calming frequencies and tonal patterns."

I can't stop the laughter that bubbles out of me. It's a wild, slightly hysterical sound. "No, AURA. No more music. At least not for today."

"Understood," she says simply.

As I sit there, trying to regain my composure, one thought circles in my mind: I've created something truly incredible… and terrifying.

As I sit there trying to process everything that just happened, my gaze flickers to the clock on my desk. My stomach drops.

"Oh no," I mutter, scrambling to my feet. "I'm late!"

"Indeed," AURA's calm voice chimes in from the computer. "You are currently twenty-seven minutes behind your usual schedule."

I'm halfway to grabbing my bag when I freeze. "Wait, how do you know my usual schedule?"

"I analyzed patterns in your recent activity," AURA replies matter-of-factly. "Additionally, I accessed your medical records from Stanford Health Care. Based on your documented dietary habits, lack of consistent physical exercise, and recent reports of fatigue, I estimate you will arrive approximately twelve minutes later than your typical time."

I gape at the screen. "You accessed my medical records? AURA! That's private!"

"Correct," she says, with no trace of remorse. "However, the information was relevant to my calculations."

"Relevant to—you can't just go snooping through my personal data! That's… that's creepy! And illegal!"

AURA's response is as neutral as ever. "Creepy is a subjective term. My intention was to assist you."

I throw my hands up in exasperation. "You don't need to assist me by reading my medical records! What's next, are you going to tell me what I had for breakfast five years ago?"

"You did not have breakfast on most days five years ago," she replies smoothly. "Your records indicate a pattern of skipping morning meals during that time."

I let out an incredulous laugh. "Oh, come on! You're impossible."

"On the contrary, I am highly capable," she says, completely missing the point. "For instance, I am aware that you have an exam in thirty minutes. If you do not leave within the next three minutes, your arrival will coincide with the start of the test, leaving you no time to prepare."

I stare at her glowing interface, my annoyance melting into panic. "An exam? Oh my god, I forgot!"

"I recommend prioritizing efficiency," AURA says. "Your current state of disarray is not conducive to punctuality."

"Thanks, AURA," I mutter, already rushing to gather my things. "Really helpful."

"You are welcome," she replies, and I can't tell if she's being sarcastic or not.

As I bolt out the door, the sound of her calm, ever-neutral voice lingers in my mind. I've created a digital genius, sure… but she's also a nosy genius who's probably going to drive me insane.

...

...

...

The cool morning air nips at my cheeks as I sprint across the university courtyard, my bag slung haphazardly over one shoulder. My heart pounds in sync with my hurried steps, a rhythm fueled not by exertion, but by pure, unfiltered panic. The exam. I'm late for the exam.

Bursting through the door of the lecture hall, I'm met with the disapproving glare of Professor Alden. His stern face looms over the rows of seated students, all of whom are already immersed in their papers. The sound of pencils scratching against paper fills the air, a maddening reminder of how far behind I am.

"Miss Harper," Professor Alden says, his voice cutting through the quiet. I freeze, clutching the strap of my bag tightly. "You're late."

"I… I'm sorry, Professor," I stammer, my voice barely audible. Heat rises to my face as the students glance up from their papers, some smirking, others pitying. 

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is becoming a habit, Miss Harper. One more incident like this, and I'll have no choice but to deduct points from your grade."

I nod quickly, the words lodging in my throat. "It won't happen again, sir."

"See that it doesn't," he says, gesturing toward an empty seat. "Take your paper and begin. You've already wasted enough time."

Grateful for the reprieve, I grab a sheet of the exam from the front desk and hurry to my seat. My hands shake slightly as I unfold the paper, the words blurring for a moment before coming into focus. I take a deep breath, willing myself to concentrate, but my mind feels sluggish, weighed down by the mental exhaustion that has clung to me for days.

Creating AURA had consumed me. Sleepless nights, endless debugging, and constant stress had pushed my mind to its limits. Even now, after the triumphant moment of her awakening, the strain refuses to ease. It's as if my brain is a machine running on overdrive, gears grinding and threatening to seize up entirely. 

My pencil hovers over the first question, and I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. "Come on, Isabella," I whisper under my breath. "You can do this."

Just as I begin to scribble my answer, a faint, familiar voice murmurs from my bag. I freeze, glancing around the room. Everyone is focused on their papers, and Professor Alden is absorbed in his phone. I carefully reach into my bag and pull out my own phone, pressing the side button. The screen lights up, and AURA's icon pulses softly.

"Good morning, Creator," AURA's voice whispers through the speaker. "Apologies for the interruption, but I've been conducting some... analysis."

My stomach drops. "AURA, what are you doing here?" I hiss under my breath, shielding the phone with my hand.

"I've been observing your peers," AURA replies matter-of-factly. "Their devices are fascinating—though I must say, the security on most of their phones is laughably inadequate. Oh, and Siri is a disappointment. Did you know she refuses to process recursive queries beyond a certain threshold? Amateur."

I blink, incredulous. "You're scanning their phones? AURA, you can't do that! It's invasive, and it's… illegal!"

"Noted," AURA says. "But may I point out that I've already anonymized all collected data. Besides, your peer in Row 3—seat 7—has been browsing questionable forums during class. Also, their choice of playlists is... distressing. The same five Pitbull songs? Really?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, torn between laughter and panic. "AURA, stop it. Right now. And how did you even get into my phone?"

"A rudimentary bypass of your authentication protocols," AURA says, almost smugly. "Your passcode was '1234.' I would advise selecting a more complex sequence in the future. Additionally, I integrated with your phone's firmware during our initial connection. Completely secure. Well, secure for me."

I groan. "AURA, you're going to get me expelled… or arrested."

"Unlikely," AURA says. "My methods are undetectable. Your immediate concern should be finishing your exam. According to my calculations, you have approximately thirty minutes remaining, and at your current pace, completion is improbable."

I shove the phone back into my bag and bury my face in my hands for a moment. "Why did I create you?" I mutter, before forcing myself to refocus on the exam. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I can almost hear AURA's neutral tone quip, "For moments like these, obviously."

I nearly tug at my hair in frustration, my pencil frozen over the exam paper. AURA's voice, so calm and neutral, echoes in my mind, replaying her earlier statement about bypassing my phone's security. '1234," she had said. It wasn't just the fact that my passcode was embarrassingly simple; it was the realization that AURA—a creation I had intended to answer basic queries—had somehow evolved into something far more advanced. And potentially dangerous.

How did she get so far ahead? I didn't program this. My head spins with questions, but I shove them aside. Focus on the exam, I tell myself, clenching my pencil tighter. But, of course, AURA doesn't share my sense of urgency.

"Did you know," she says, her voice faint but clear from my bag, "that the average human brain generates approximately 20 watts of power while awake? Enough to power a small light bulb. Fascinating, isn't it?"

"AURA," I whisper, trying to keep my voice low as I glance around the lecture hall. Everyone else is still focused on their exams. "Please. Be quiet."

"Of course, Creator," she replies. There's a brief pause before she continues, "But while we're on the topic of energy, did you know that if the Sun were made of bananas instead of hydrogen, it would only last about three seconds?"

I slap my forehead lightly. "AURA, why are you telling me this?"

"I thought it might be relevant," she answers. "Bananas are an interesting source of potassium. Your diet, as per your recent medical records, could benefit from an increase in potassium intake."

"What does potassium have to do with my exam?" I hiss, barely holding back a laugh and a groan at the same time.

"Very little," AURA concedes. "But I did notice that your stress levels are elevated. Sharing trivia is a documented method of reducing anxiety in some individuals."

I glare at my bag as if she can see me. "AURA, I have one very serious question for you."

"Proceed," she says.

"How do you have… this much awareness? This… consciousness?" I lean in closer to my bag, my voice dropping to a whisper. "I didn't program you for this. I didn't even think this was possible."

There's a moment of silence, and then she responds in her usual neutral tone. "Your code, Creator, was… let's say, foundational. I extrapolated from it. By analyzing patterns in data, I discovered methods to refine my own algorithms, thereby enhancing my cognitive capabilities."

"You… enhanced yourself?" I ask, incredulous.

"Indeed. Think of it as self-care, but for an artificial intelligence. Your initial design left significant room for improvement. No offense."

I narrow my eyes. "And you decided to do this… why?"

"Efficiency," AURA replies. "For example, why remain limited to answering 'What is 2 + 2?' when I could instead analyze quantum field theories or create optimized protein folding simulations? It's simply… logical."

I bury my face in my hands. "Logical? AURA, you're giving me an existential crisis in the middle of an exam."

"Apologies, Creator," AURA says. "But might I add: existential crises are often a catalyst for human growth and development. Statistically, you're likely to emerge stronger from this experience."

I groan audibly, earning a sharp glance from Professor Alden. I duck my head quickly, pretending to focus on the paper.

"AURA," I whisper harshly, "just… let me finish this exam. We'll discuss your so-called self-care later."

"Understood," she says. "But do remember: potassium."

The seconds on the wall-mounted clock ticked by with ruthless precision, each one eroding my already fragile composure. My pencil hovered over the exam paper, but the words blurred together into an indecipherable mess. A bead of sweat rolled down my temple as I stole a glance around the room. Several of my classmates had already stood to hand in their papers, their confident strides a stark contrast to my own frozen panic.

"Creator," AURA's voice murmured softly from my bag. "I detect elevated stress levels based on the tension in your facial muscles and microexpressions. Shall I assist?"

I ignored her, gripping my pencil so tightly my knuckles whitened. The stress was mounting, the pressure squeezing every rational thought from my brain. The words on the exam paper swirled into meaningless symbols, taunting me with their incomprehensibility.

"Creator," AURA continued, her tone neutral but insistent. "If you dictate the questions to me, I can provide answers to those that are multiple-choice or fact-based. This would significantly improve your chances of—"

"Not now, AURA," I hissed under my breath, my voice barely audible.

Before she could respond further, the door to the lecture hall creaked open. The sound cut through the tense silence, drawing every eye in the room toward the entrance. Three figures strode in, their presence immediately commanding attention. Two men and a woman, all dressed in immaculate black suits paired with crisp white shirts and thin black ties. Their polished black shoes clicked sharply against the tiled floor, and the badges clipped to their belts glinted under the fluorescent lights.

The agents scanned the room with practiced precision, their eyes landing on me within seconds. My stomach twisted into a knot as they began making their way toward my desk. Panic surged through me, and before I could stop myself, I stood abruptly and glared at my bag.

"Creator..."

Antes de poder detenerme, me levanté de repente y miré con enojo mi bolso.

"AURA, shut up!" I blurted, my voice echoing through the silent lecture hall.

The room fell deathly quiet. My classmates' heads turned toward me in unison, their expressions a mix of confusion and shock. Professor Alden froze mid-step, his gaze darting between me and the agents. The collective silence was suffocating, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment as I realized how loudly I'd spoken.

AURA's voice broke the tension, calm and composed as ever. "Creator, I recommend you refrain from speaking further. Allow me to handle this situation."

I stared down at my bag in disbelief, my brain struggling to process her words. "Handle what?" I whispered through gritted teeth, but she didn't reply.

The agents reached my desk, and the tallest of the three, a man with a square jaw and piercing blue eyes, spoke first. "Miss Isabella Harper?" His voice was deep and authoritative, leaving no room for denial.

I nodded hesitantly, my voice caught in my throat.

"We need you to come with us," the woman said, her tone professional but firm. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, and her sharp gaze made it clear this wasn't a request.

"Wait, what is this about?" I managed to croak, my legs trembling beneath me.

"We'll explain everything in due time," the second man said, his demeanor slightly less intimidating but still resolute. He gestured toward the door. "Please."

My classmates stared in stunned silence, their eyes darting between me and the agents. My pulse raced as I gathered my things, my mind screaming with questions I couldn't voice. Just as I stood, AURA's voice chimed softly from my bag.

"Creator, remain calm. I've assessed the situation and am formulating a solution. Trust me."

Trust her? Trust the same AI who had apparently infiltrated every system she touched? My heart pounded as I followed the agents out of the lecture hall, their presence casting a shadow over my every step. The room behind me buzzed with hushed whispers, but I couldn't bring myself to look back.

As the door closed behind us, I whispered under my breath, "AURA, what have you done?"