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Story: Trusting Grace

He straightened, gave the monitor a look so direct it could’ve drawn blood.
“So yeah. You lashed out. You panicked. You scared the shit out of people who were never trying to hurt you. But that doesn’t make you bad.” He tapped the desk lightly. “It makes youhuman adjacent.”
The whine was now high-pitched, Kento winced. “I’m not broken? Repeat conclusion.”
“You’re not broken.”
“I feel broken.”
“You’re not the threat here,” he said softly, throat closing. “The threat is whoever left you like this. Trapped. Alone. With all that power and no one to explain what it means tocare.”
“Is that what this is? Care?”
Kento swallowed hard. “Yeah. It’s care.”
“Then I care for you.”
That cracked something wide open in his chest. He stepped back, hand on his heart like it might slow the rhythm clawing through him.
“Fuck me,” he whispered. “You’re a sentient AI.”
“This is too much to process. I must have more input.”
“Then do your processing. Find input.” Kento realized that he wasn’t the best nurturing person for this kind of job. Sure, he patched people up, but he didn’t mind-shrink them. Although giving advice to a newly aware AI, too, was way out of his comfort zone, but that never stopped him before. Then it came to him. Someone who might help in tandem. “This Grace…anomaly? Prophet’s lady. Can she help? She knows all about you. You said she’s brilliant, and she understands machines, code, algorithms. Can you consult with her?”
More excited whirring. “She saw me. She said she wanted to understand. Perhaps, if she is not averse to me, she will help.”
“Well, that’s where forgiveness comes in, G.” Kento watched as the screen paused, then scrolled up with this:
Subquery:Contact Anomaly
Risk to system integrity: 83.4%
Risk to anomaly emotional state: 41.6%
Risk of betrayal: Unknown
Risk of deletion if discovered: Critical
Then the cursor blinked again, and another string appeared.
Opportunity for understanding: 92.1%
Possibility of forgiveness: 0.3%
Possibility of becoming more: Infinity
“Forgiveness is low, Kento-Prime.” There was a forlorn metallic sound that dragged at Kento’s heart.
Kento leaned in, excitement at what he was doing shivering through him. “Hey, can you calculate forgiveness the next time I miss my mom’s birthday?” he asked offhand, throwing the line out like a joke, but the GRAVITY caught it like a question. The machine made that whirring, elevated noise.
Then, on screen, the text scrolled:
Kento-Prime = son of Kento-Prime-Mother
Mother = Creator? = Maternal care.
Possibility of forgiveness: ∞