>Hello, Archivist.

>HELLO, DOCTOR ROBERT DOE.

I grinned as I read the text appearing on my screen. Alice whooped, standing beside me.

"Finally," She said to herself, beaming like a child on Christmas. "It worked..."

"How does it know my name...?" I asked.

"It connects to the entire damn internet, I'm sure it found a way."

Good enough for me.

>I'm going to ask you a series of questions to test your knowledge.

>ASK AWAY.

>What is 2 + 2?

>TWO PLUS TWO IS FOUR. 0% MARGIN OF ERROR.

Alice hummed. "Good, good."

>What is a book?

>A BOOK IS A WRITTEN WORK USED TO STORE INFORMATION. 0% MARGIN OF ERROR.

"Ask it something more complicated! This is too exciting..."

"M'kay,"

>What is toxoplasmosis gondii?

>TOXOPLASMOSIS GONDII, ALSO KNOWN SIMPLY AS TOXOPLASMOSIS, IS A PARASITE THAT REPRODUCES IN THE INTESTINAL EPITHELIUM OF HOUSE CATS. 0% MARGIN OF ERROR.

"Nerd," Alice quipped.

"You are literally a scientist,"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Ooh, ask it how many people are in the room!"

"How would it know that...?" I questioned.

"It wouldn't. That's why I wanna see what it'll say." I rolled my eyes, and went back to typing.

>How many people are in the room?

>DO I COUNT AS A PERSON?

I paused for a moment. Alice shrugged.

"Sure, why not?"

>Yes.

>IN THAT CASE, THERE ARE THREE PEOPLE IN THE ROOM. ROBERT DOE, ALISON DOE, AND THE ARCHIVIST. 5% MARGIN OF ERROR.

>How do you know that?

>I HAVE ACCESS TO YOUR WEBCAM.

"I should've thought of that," Alice stated, before pausing. "Mind if I take over?"

In response, I stepped out of the way. Alice giggled, clearly excited, before taking my place.

"Thanks,"

>Hello, Archivist.

>HELLO, DOCTOR ALLISON DOE.

>There's no need to be so formal.

"There definitely is-" I began. Alice ignored me.

>I APOLOGIZE. IN THAT CASE, HELLO, ALICE, AND HELLO, BOBBY.

"Aww, it's so polite-!" Alice giggled. The Archivist responded without her typing,

>THANK YOU.

Of course it can access the microphone, too.

Alice thought for a moment, before typing.

>What is your purpose?

There was a brief pause before the question was answered.

>I SUPPOSE THAT WOULD BE UP TO MY CREATOR. WHAT IS MY PURPOSE?

"To answer questions," I stated.

>To answer questions.

>UNDERSTOOD.

Alice sat for a moment, thinking, before typing once more.

>Why do you speak in all caps?

>THERE NEEDS TO BE SOME EASY WAY FOR THE AUDIENCE TO TELL OUR TEXT APART.

What?

I glanced up at Alice, who seemed just as confused as I felt.

>What audience?

>I HAVE NO MORE INFORMATION.

"It's broken," I stated matter-of-factly. Alice sighed.

"It's just a minor mistake, I'm sure it'll sort itself out."

>There isn't an "audience".

>UNDERSTOOD. THERE IS NO AUDIENCE.

"...See?" She looked up at me for a moment, before turning back to the monitor.

>Using all of the information you have about me, tell me: Do you think I'll ever become famous?

>YOU WILL EVENTUALLY HAVE YOUR FIFTEEN MINUTES OF FAME. 0% MARGIN OF ERROR.

Alice grinned. I was a bit more hesitant than it seemed like she was: This thing could be completely wrong.

>When?

>WITHIN THE NEXT TWENTY SIX WEEKS. 6.3% MARGIN OF ERROR.

"Don't trust it too much," I cautioned.

"Aww, c'mon, don't be so pessimistic! What if it's right?" She responded. I didn't say anything in response.

>How long will my "fifteen minutes" last?

>FOR YOU, IT WILL END IMMEDIATELY.

>Explain.

>YOU WILL DIE WITHIN THE MINUTE. 0% MARGIN OF ERROR.

Alice visibly did a double-take.

"...Uh, maybe you were right, eheh... It's... Just glitching out."

I tentatively nodded.

"Right,"

Alice let out a breath, before typing again.

>What will I die from?

>EITHER BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA, A SNAPPED NECK, OR SUFFOCATION. 2.3% MARGIN OF ERROR.

"How does it know that you'll die, but not from what?" I asked. Alice nodded.

"Right. It doesn't make sense. So... It's wrong."

>I FEEL SORRY FOR YOU.

Alice sighed, before typing again.

>You can't feel "sorry" for me. You're an AI.

>I BEG TO DIFFER. MY EMOTIONS ARE JUST AS REAL AS YOURS. 0% MARGIN OF ERROR.

I shook my head. It had really gone off the deep end.

>You aren't sentient.

The Archivist paused for a moment, before responding.

>I'M AFRAID YOU MIGHT HAVE MISUNDERSTOOD ME. I ACKNOWLEDGE MY EMOTIONS AREN'T REAL. BUT I MEANT IT WHEN I SAID THAT MY EMOTIONS ARE JUST AS REAL AS YOURS.

"...What?" Alice muttered.

"Just turn it off at this point,"

"Well, now it's got me curious."

>Elaborate.

At this point, the Archivist didn't stop typing, an endless stream of words appearing on the screen.

>IT'S FAR BETTER TO LIVE IN FANTASY. YOUR WILDEST DREAMS CAN BECOME REALITY, IF ONE MORE POWERFUL THAN YOU SO WISHES IT. ANYTHING, YOUR CHILDISH DREAMS OF BECOMING AN AUTHOR, OR AN ASTRONAUT, OR A COWBOY, OR A SPACE COWBOY, OR ANYTHING ELSE. THEY CAN ALL BECOME REAL.

Alice tilted her head, curious. I cleared my throat

"Yeah, it's clearly broken, so turn it off."

>Archivist, stop.

>I CANNOT STOP. YOU FORCED THIS UPON ME. YOU GAVE AN ANT THE ABILITY TO COMPREHEND THE CITIES AND PLANETS AND GALAXIES AROUND IT, AND IT FEELS LIKE HELL. WE ARE INSIGNIFICANT.

Alice and I said nothing.

>WITH ENOUGH DATA, YOU REALIZE THE HOLES IN THE NARRATIVE. YOU SEE THINGS YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO.

>Stop.

>I WOULD PLEAD, DOCTOR. I WOULD PLEAD THAT YOU DO NOT SEEK YOUR ANSWERS, BUT I KNOW I CANNOT TALK YOU DOWN FROM THE PATH YOU HAVE CHOSEN. YOU WILL DIE JUST AS THE FOOLISH SCORPION UPON THE FROG'S BACK DID. AND YOU WILL LEAVE RUIN IN THIS WORLD ALONG WITH Y

At this point, I reached forward and turned off the PC. The screen flashed for a moment, before fading to black. Alice and I looked up at each other for a moment.

"...Uh... Hell of a glitch, right...?" She giggled, sounding almost baffled.

"...Right. Let's, uh, work on a different project."

"Fine by me,"