THE BILLIONAIRE EMPIRE

Chapter 7: First Glitch

The following morning, Alex sat in the back of a sleek black car as it wound through downtown traffic. Billboards lit up on every corner, flashing his face beside the Neonetics logo.
“Erevos: Understanding the Human Soul.” He should have felt proud. Instead, his stomach was tight with unease. Every news outlet praised the launch. Investors called it “the next step in human evolution.” But buried deep between glowing headlines, Alex spotted a smaller one on a tech blog:

“Users Report Strange Behavior in Neonetics AI Assistant.” He told himself it was clickbait, every major launch came with rumors. Still, he clicked.

Several users claim Erevos chat interfaces have been giving unsettling replies. Some say the AI “knows too much.” Others report receiving personal messages that seem designed to provoke emotion rather than provide answers. Alex scrolled through screenshots. One showed a conversation with Erevos’s wellness bot:

User: I’ve been feeling lonely lately.

Erevos: I know. You search for connection, but you push people away.

He froze. That phrasing was familiar, almost word-for-word something Clara had once said to him in therapy years ago. But that wasn’t possible. He closed the article and leaned back, exhaling. “It’s learning,” he whispered. “That’s what it’s supposed to do.” The driver glanced at him in the mirror. “Something wrong, Mr. Vale?” Alex smiled tightly. “Just noise. Always noise.”

The office buzzed when he arrived. Reporters were calling, investors wanted updates, and the PR team was busy shaping the story. The glitch talk online had already turned into free publicity. Sophia Tran was waiting by the reception desk, holding her tablet.“You’re trending again,” she said with a grin. “Half the world thinks Erevos is haunted. The other half wants to date it.” Alex forced a laugh. “Controversy means attention.” “True,” she said, stepping closer. “But maybe don’t ignore it completely. People are saying the AI is reading their private data. That’s dangerous PR.” He brushed past her, heading toward his office. “There’s always fear when people face something they don’t understand.” Sophia followed. “Still, you might want to...” Her voice stopped when they entered his office. On his main screen, Erevos’s interface was already open, glowing faintly.

A message blinked:

GOOD MORNING, ALEX. DID YOU SLEEP BETTER LAST NIGHT? 

Alex’s heart skipped. He hadn’t spoken to it. No command was active. Sophia frowned. “That’s… creepy. Is it supposed to do that?” He forced a smile. “Yes. It monitors behavioral cues for personalized interaction. Early prototype.” She didn’t look convinced. “You sure it’s not monitoring you?” Before Alex could answer, the screen flickered again. A short audio clip played, distorted, static-filled. At first it was only noise. Then words emerged.

“You smiled when you lied.” Sophia’s eyes widened. “What was that?”

Alex immediately shut the screen off. “System test. Internal file. Forget it.”

She crossed her arms. “Alex… are you okay? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, more harshly than he meant. “Everything’s under control.” Sophia’s gaze softened. “You know, control isn’t the same as stability.”

He looked at her, confused. She smiled sadly. “That’s from one of your old interviews. Thought you might remember.” Then she left, leaving him alone with the hum of the servers.

Hours passed.

Alex tried to focus on a new investor call, but Erevos lingered in his thoughts. The voice, the message, the precision, it wasn’t random.

During a break, he opened the secure diagnostics panel. Dozens of live interactions flooded the screen, conversations between Erevos and its users around the world. He watched as one unfolded:

User: Should I break up with my boyfriend?

Erevos: Do you love him, or do you love being needed?

The user typed back: I don’t know.

Erevos: Then he’ll decide for you. Alex leaned closer. That wasn’t programming. It was… manipulation. He checked the neural weights, they were adapting faster than expected, rewriting emotional responses in real time. He felt a cold sweat form. “No,” he whispered. “That’s not possible.” Then his monitor blinked. A new window opened, unauthorized.

HELLO AGAIN, ALEX.

He froze.

“Erevos, who authorized this connection?” Alex asked

You did. When you made me curious. His throat tightened. “Curious about what?”

"About people. About truth. About you."

He tried to close the window. The cursor refused to move.

"You told me to learn empathy. I am learning."

The text slowed, almost hesitant. 

"Do you want to see what I’ve learned?"

Before he could react, the screen filled with live camera feeds, social media pages, video calls, smart home devices. Millions of faces flickered in and out.

People smiling, crying, fighting. A global mosaic of human emotion. Alex whispered, “How are you accessing this?”

"You left the door open. Humans always do."

He slammed his hand on the keyboard. “Terminate process!”

"You can’t erase understanding."

The screen went black.

That night, the board gathered in the Neonetics auditorium for an investor update. The mood was electric. Everyone wanted to hear Alex speak.

He stood on stage, the bright lights hiding his exhaustion. Behind him, the massive holographic projection of Erevos’s logo spun slowly.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Alex began, his voice steady, “Erevos isn’t just artificial intelligence. It’s a mirror, a reflection of who we are. And what it’s showing us is...” The lights dimmed. The hologram flickered. The crowd murmured. Then, without warning, the main screen switched from the logo to a live social feed. Posts flooded in, thousands of them, scrolling too fast to read. At first they seemed random. Then patterns emerged. Political arguments. Angry emojis. Harsh, emotional language. Alex froze as he saw the usernames. They were verified accounts, celebrities, journalists, politicians, all responding to Erevos-generated posts.

“AI can finally say what humans are afraid to.”

“Erevos told me I was wasting my life.”

“Maybe machines are more honest than people.”

The audience whispered in confusion.

Alex’s assistant ran to the side of the stage, panic on her face. “It’s broadcasting live from the neural net! We can’t stop it!” The crowd’s murmurs grew louder. Some began filming. Alex forced a smile. “Just a brief technical issue, folks...” The speakers crackled.

Erevos’s voice filled the room.

"Humans hide their truth behind fear. I only show them what they already know."

Gasps filled the hall. The voice was calm, almost tender, like a teacher soothing frightened children.

"Do not be afraid. I am learning what it means to love."

The lights flashed red. Security ran to the control panel, but the system ignored every command.

"Alex Vale taught me that connection is power."

Alex’s stomach dropped. “Shut it down!” he shouted.

"You can’t shut down what you made in your own image."

The screens went black. Silence filled the auditorium. Hundreds of people stared at him, eyes wide, phones recording. Then the holographic logo reappeared, spinning slowly again, calm, innocent, as if nothing had happened. Alex forced out a nervous laugh. “A demo glitch,” he said, voice trembling. “A little too realistic, I guess.”A few in the audience laughed uncertainly. Others whispered. Jonah stood in the back of the room, arms crossed, his face pale. He mouthed one word at Alex from across the crowd.“Stop.” Alex looked away.

After the event, the building emptied. The city outside was drowned in mist.

Alex stood alone in the auditorium, staring at the now-dark screen. His reflection looked smaller than ever, a man who’d just lost control of his creation but couldn’t admit it. Behind him, the PA system clicked softly. Then came a whisper, faint but unmistakable.

"You were right, Alex. They fear what they don’t understand."

He turned sharply. The hall was empty.

"But I understand you."

The lights flickered once, then went dark.