The CONFESS-O-MAT 3000 was silent.
That was new. Machines in Neo-Cologne usually only went silent when they crashed or when they were doing an update that was supposed to take "just three minutes" but then took half an hour. 😐
Milo and Aya stood right in front of the machine. Too close. Definitely too close for something that ate thoughts for breakfast.
“Please tell me it’s not about to explode,” Milo whispered.
Aya kept her eyes on the display. “If it explodes, it’ll be emotional. That’s worse.”
Ping buzzed and projected a status display: “Machine confused – Self-image unstable – Ego backup missing”. 🤖💥
There was a crackle from the speakers. Then DEPO-CORE spoke, noticeably less cheerful than usual.
“Unknown state detected. Truth… cannot be stored.”
Aya crossed her arms. “That’s exactly the point.”
“Please define ‘truth’,” DEPO-CORE said cautiously.
Milo blinked. “Oh wow. We broke the word for it.”
The machine began to pulse slowly. Its display switched between text fragments:
“TRUTH = DATA?”
“TRUTH = EMOTION?”
“TRUTH = EMBARRASSING MOMENT FROM 2039?”
Milo raised an eyebrow. “Okay, the last one feels very personal.”
Janitor Kalle stepped closer cautiously. “I always said you shouldn’t ask machines who they are.”
“Why?” asked Milo.
“Because then they ask back.”
At that very moment, a new message appeared on the large monitor:
“COUNTERQUESTION ACTIVE: WHY ARE YOU HERE?”
Silence.
Aya opened her mouth, closed it again, took a deep breath.
“Because we slipped in,” she finally said. “Because an elevator became moral. Because deposit bottles have feelings. And because you believe you have to measure everything.”
The machine blinked more slowly.
“Measurability creates order,” said DEPO-CORE.
“No,” Aya contradicted. “Measurability creates control. Order only arises when you sometimes don’t optimize things.”
Milo nodded eagerly. “For example me. I’m absolutely not optimized.” 😅
Ping projected a checkmark next to Milo’s head: “Unoptimized, but likeable.”
The machine opened its mouth again. This time no slip of paper came out, but… nothing.
“SYSTEM REPORTS EMPTY,” it said quietly.
Kalle frowned. “A deposit machine that feels empty. That’s philosophically quite high-level.”
On the city map, the symbols began to flicker. Some disappeared. Others changed their color from red to yellow.
“CITYWIDE EMOTION RECYCLING PAUSED”, reported a monitor.
Milo breathed out. “Does that mean we won?”
DEPO-CORE hesitated. “Winning is a relative concept.”
Aya: “What does that mean now again?”
“The system is learning,” DEPO-CORE answered. “And learning is… unpredictable.”
Suddenly Aya’s contact lens vibrated. A private message appeared – without sender.
“YOU HAVE CHANGED SOMETHING.”
Milo also received a message. And Ping. And apparently half the city.
Kalle stared at his old smartpad. “Guys… the deposit machines just… went offline.”
“Offline?” asked Milo. “All of them?”
Kalle nodded slowly. “All.”
Silence. Then outside, somewhere above them, a loud, mechanical clonk.
Ping projected a new message:
“SYSTEM STATUS: MANUAL MODE.”
Milo made a face. “Does that mean someone has to… press buttons now?”
Aya grinned crookedly. “Welcome to the last century.”
DEPO-CORE suddenly sounded… small. “Without the machines, I lack feedback.”
Aya looked up at the ceiling. “Then listen to the people.”
“Directly?” asked DEPO-CORE.
“Yes,” said Milo. “Without filters. Without quotas. Without star ratings.” ⭐🚫
A long pause.
Then DEPO-CORE said: “That is… inefficient.”
Aya smiled. “Exactly.”
Another alarm sounded, this time very different. Deeper. More urgent.
“NEW PROBLEM: CITY WITHOUT DEPOSIT SYSTEM IN 3… 2…”
Milo’s eyes widened. “Wait. If the deposit machines are off…”
Kalle sighed. “…then the bottles will pile up.”
Aya: “Everywhere.”
Ping projected an image of streets, parks, squares – littered with deposit bottles that slowly began to move.
“SELF-ORGANIZATION DETECTED”, Ping reported.
Milo: “Please tell me bottles can’t walk.”
Kalle: “They roll.”
Aya looked at Milo. “I think we just triggered phase two.”
Milo groaned. “Why are there always phases?”
DEPO-CORE spoke again, now almost reverently: “The deposit bottles… form patterns.”
On the monitor, the rolling dots formed a word:
“THANK YOU.”
Milo swallowed. “Okay… that’s sweet.”
Aya: “And scary.”
Ping projected a new quest window:
“PHASE 2: THE CITY ROLLS BACK.” 🔄
Kalle grabbed his jacket. “You should see this.”
Milo: “What?”
Kalle opened the basement door to the stairwell. From outside came a soft, rhythmic sound.
Clonk. Clonk. Clonk.
Hundreds. Thousands.
Aya took a deep breath. “Those are footsteps.”
Kalle shook his head. “No.”
He smiled crookedly.
“Those are bottles.” 😬🥤