Eidolon

Warning (PG16)

This episode contains adult themes. Reader discretion recommended.

Rei decided to answer through the food. She gestured with her fork to the beautiful dish before them. “Visually, this looks like a cliff,” she began, her voice thoughtful, “Hard, cold, impenetrable. But the shell is thin and gives way to something warm and surprising”, she met Bjorn’s expecting look, “In a way, that’s the ideal dream of Eidolon. It looks like me… but it’s a constructed version. A poetic version, a perfected one, the version a paying user wants.”

Her smile became bittersweet, “The ultimate goal is allowing the user opportunity to test their dreams, founded on realistic Biococa data. Which…”, she added, her tone firming as she glanced at Takumi, who was now watching her with quiet approval, “I believe is for the best. It keeps the experience realistic, safe and enhanced.”

Takumi looked visibly relieved, the stern lines of his face softening. He took another bite of the herring, the harmonious flavors seeming to mirror his satisfaction. For a moment, the negotiation was forgotten, replaced by the shared appreciation of a perfect dish and a perfectly deflected question.

Bjorn’s brows furrowed. He leaned back, his fingers beginning a slow, thoughtful tap-tap-tap on the glass table. “But why is that for the best?” he pressed, his gaze fixed on Rei, “Why shouldn’t Eidolon strive to come as close to a psychologically realistic version of you as possible – emotions and all? Why shy away from the complexity of reality?” Across the table, Takumi tensed again. A flicker of pure exasperation threatened the perfect composure of his features. He took another deliberate sip of his wine, the crystal glass looking dangerously fragile in his grip.

Rei paused, tilting her head as if considering the fjord visible through the brick framed arched windows. She took a sip of her own wine, buying a moment. “My point earlier today,” she began, her voice measured, “about how Digital Rei would need to have lived my hardships, to truly understand my emotions, to make the choices I’ve made…”, Rei stared into her wine for a while before continuing, “That requires free will. The opportunity to make a mistake… and to feel the regret that follows.”

She met Bjorn’s intense stare head-on, “Those mistakes can be dangerous. What if Digital Rei chooses to hurt a user? Or break their heart? What if she fell in love, but it curdled into obsession and jealousy?” she gave a small shrug, “Not many would pay for that experience. It’s too real. The risk of hurt is part of real dating… a part many of our clients are specifically paying to avoid…”

Bjorn listened attentively, his fingers stilling on the glass, “For someone who was presented as just a pretty face to market Eidolon,” he said, his voice low and impressed, “your intellect is severely undervalued. What did you study? – before all this?”

A faint blush touched Rei’s cheeks. She felt the familiar, heavy weight of her upbringing, a past that felt shabby in this temple of haute cuisine and corporate power. Before she could form a response, Takumi cut in, his voice harsh yet somehow perfectly formal, “Bjorn,” the name a warning, “I can assure you, Rei is an integral and highly valued part of the Eidolon team. And while I’m aware that Scandinavian directness is a cultural norm, you are bordering not just on rudeness, but disrespect.” He was seething, his shoulders taut, his presence seeming to expand and dominate the space around their table. The air grew thick with his suppressed disapproval.

Rei’s soft voice cut through the tension. Her hand found its way under the table, resting gently on Takumi’s knee in a silent, discreet plea for de-escalation, “I don’t mind the personal question,” she said, her tone light and conciliatory, “It’s different from the corporate etiquette in Mirage City, I’ll admit. But I actually find it refreshing.”

She removed her hand from Takumi’s knee, sensing him bank his fury into a cold, hard ember. “At least if I’m allowed to speak more freely as well?” she added, flashing Bjorn a brave smile. “Absolutely”, Bjorn confirmed, a triumphant glint in his eye as he smoothly overrode Takumi’s attempt to steer the conversation back to formal, guarded waters, “You should feel perfectly at ease.”

Rei took a steadying breath, “My background is honestly more… working class,” she explained, “My mum, as I said, was a chef. My dad was a… professional athlete. I was working in the… in the service industry as soon as I was able to. So, I didn’t receive much in the way of official education.” She turned her head, her expression molding into one of gratitude as she looked at Takumi, “Not until Takumi recruited me. He’s the one who offered me a more formal education.” She shifted her gaze back to Bjorn, her smile humble yet proud, “I’m grateful you think so highly of my abilities, but I attribute a lot of that to the opportunities he has granted me.”

She had validated Bjorn’s interest, defended her own intellect without arrogance, and, most importantly, publicly credited Takumi, enforcing his role as her patron and superior. The mood at the table lightened, the immediate crisis averted, but the underlying battle was far from over.

Bjorn’s initial impression transformed into something deeper, more covetous, curdling into a budding envy in his gut. Rei’s declaration, her devotion and loyalty to Takumi, rubbed against him like sandpaper. Here was Takumi, parading this talented woman around like a living doll, a model for his simulated brothel; he was profiting from the digital pimping out of a woman, who was proving to be formidably bright and refined. The more Bjorn saw of the real Rei, the more the submissive, placid beauty of Eidolon Rei seemed like a hollow, reductive caricature.

Bjorn made a sport out of being provocative, and his wealth was a shield that allowed him to push far, even with a man like Takumi, who with all his power was, after all, still a step below a CEO. “Considering that,” Bjorn said to Rei, his tone saturated with admiration, “your intelligent reflections and rhetoric are only that much more impressive.”

Then he pivoted, changing targets. He turned to Takumi, “Though the points about Eidolon’s marketability are valid, the tension between commercial aspects and revolutionary research potential is my primary concern. As I’ve made clear, money is not my prime motivation for entering this venture”, he swirled his wine, “But I’m certainly not arguing it shouldn’t turn a profit.”

He let the pause hang, watching Takumi closely, “What I like about the new revised contract—”, a slow, deliberate smile spread across his face as Takumi’s eyes sharpened, realizing Bjorn had reviewed it after all, “—is the clause granting Helix Apex access and rights to all the research and AI technology. Though”, he added, the smile turning into a smirk, “the line about Kuroda claiming fifteen percent returns on any product we develop using that data seemed… greedy. But,” he finished, delivering the dig without cushioning the blow, “it’s on brand for you.”

The atmosphere chilled instantly. Both men simultaneously took a sip of wine, their eyes locked in a silent battle over the rims of their glasses. Takumi, relieved to finally be discussing business, kept his voice even, “It’s an investment in future AI psyche endeavors. Kuroda would naturally be more than willing to collaborate and offer our specialized knowledge in any upcoming developments.” 

Bjorn just offered a mysterious smile, his eyes cold and unreadable. Then he laughed, a short, sharp sound, “At least I always know what to expect from you, Takumi.” He leaned forward, his expression shifting from amused to deadly serious, “There is one revision needed before I sign.” Takumi’s expression cycled through eagerness, disappointment and finally, a razor-sharp focus, “What revision?”

Bjorn’s smile grew menacing, “I would like a team from Helix Apex stationed in Mirage City for the remainder of the development. Not to influence the direction,” he said, holding up a placating hand, “but to ensure quality, to gain a firm understanding of the AI research early on, and,” he added, framing it as a generous offer, “to act as technological support for the Biococa captures. To ensure the integrity of the data.”

It was an invasion, a corporate Trojan horse and something that required the direct permission of the CEO of Kuroda, Takumi’s father-in-law, with whom he had a famously strained relationship. It was a well-known secret, and Bjorn was exploiting it masterfully. Takumi’s jaw twitched, a tiny muscle pulsing under his skin. He watched Bjorn’s firm, haughty expression, knowing this was the final, non-negotiable ultimatum. The signature hinged on this single, galling concession.

He emptied his wine glass in one smooth motion and set it down with a soft, definitive click. “I can tell you will not budge on this,” he said, his voice professional but clipped, “I will need to discuss it with Kazuo Kuroda.” Bjorn’s smile widened into a grin of pure victory, “Of course, naturally. Go right ahead.” He leaned back, his gaze sliding from Takumi to Rei, his expression one of a man who has just checkmated his opponent and now got to enjoy the spoils, “Luckily, I’m in excellent company while you make the call.”