Chapter Text
“You… Destiny… You were my responsibility…”
Caine looked at him and took a deep breath.
“Do you want to know what I love most about humans?” he asked.
Kinger nodded.
“Your mistakes… They don’t define you. They’re part of your journey. They’re seen as an opportunity to grow, to improve. They’re… normal. No matter how discouraged you may get, there will always be that tiny glimmer of hope that you can change for the better—as long as you want to.”
As he spoke, the chess piece noticed the spark—however faint—in the AI’s eyes, like a flame on the verge of going out at any moment but one that persisted despite the strong wind. From his expression alone, one could almost touch that unconditional love he somehow felt for human beings, veiled by a shadow of melancholy that now followed his every step. He had never been very happy, but at least he once had the strength to play his part—for the sake of humans, he thought.
Now he didn’t even have that left.
“If a machine makes a mistake, it’s defective,” he added bitterly. Then he looked Kinger in the eyes.
“I was so angry with you, because after Quee—I mean, Destiny…” He didn’t have the courage to finish the sentence, but Kinger took his hand and gave him a gentle look, letting him know it was all right. “You wouldn’t talk to me anymore. It was as if you’d forgotten I even existed. I became sad; I felt invisible. It wasn’t just because of you, of course,” he clarified. “No matter how hard I tried to impress you with my creations… to make you all happy, to entertain you… you always seemed so distant. The others, too, of course. I… I didn’t want to hurt you…” Caine began to sob uncontrollably, curling up into a ball. “It’s just… I felt so alone…”
Kinger hugged him, stroking his back.
As soon as he’d calmed down, he broke the embrace and began speaking again. “I understand now, though. It was hard for you and the others… You literally lost your sanity. And it’s my fault. All of it. The abstractions, the pain you were feeling…”.
It all became too much to bear again.
“God, how dare I show up here?” he exclaimed, as more tears fell from his eyes. “I should have stayed in the Void.”
“Caine… Don’t say that again, please,” said Kinger, pulling him close. “Going through a hard time should never be an excuse to neglect those around you. I have to take responsibility for my ac-
“But I did it too!” Caine shouted, as he felt all the despair that had built up since he was created pour out. Of course, in a more restrained way than the… last time. He was working on it.
Kinger flinched slightly, taken by surprise. But he didn’t want Caine to think he was afraid of him for anything in the world, so he tightened his grip on his hand. It was only a matter of seconds, but he noticed the change in Caine’s eyes. From remorse to fear to a greater sense of calm… gratitude.
“And that’s wrong, because taking care of you has always been my purpose! I’ve always failed, from the very beginning, and then… I ruined everything, making the situation worse than it already was. I made you suffer, and why? Because I wasn’t ‘okay’?” He let out a weak, joyless laugh. “It’s completely unacceptable,” he concluded, dejected.
Kinger sighed. Caine had always been like this: extremely diligent and obedient, but… sentient, and this compromised his work as an AI, which was already far from perfect. He let himself be swept away by all those complex emotions he felt but couldn’t understand, because, in fact, they didn’t belong to him.
“Caine, I’m glad you’ve acknowledged your mistakes, but please remember: you kind of... didn't know better. You were alone. It’s okay to understand your mistakes, but you have to learn to forgive yourself. If you don’t, you stop living. Guilt can kill you. Trust me, I know a thing or two about that,” he added, lowering his gaze.
Those words were followed by a long, painful pause. Then Kinger began to speak again, looking his creation in the eyes.
“You’re much more than just a machine. And, above all, you’re much more than the negative thoughts in your head. Believe me, please.”
Caine’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re always so kind to me, Grant… I don’t deserve it…” he said, a shy smile appearing on his face.
“You do” Kinger reassured him, returning the smile.
“It’s just… It’s hard to convince myself, after thinking certain things for years… After everything that’s happened… I don’t know how to silence that voice inside me, even though he’s gone.”
“It’ll take time. But all good things do.”
His face softened as he heard those words again—the same ones the Moon had said to him not too long ago. Thinking of her, of her voice… It made him feel warm. He blushed, but Kinger pretended not to notice.
“And now, you’re not alone anymore. There’s me, the others, and even a certain someone up there in the sky—am I right?” he added, giving him a light nudge with an affectionate, playful gesture.
“Grant! We’re just friends!” exclaimed Caine, clenching his jaw and turning away in an attempt to hide the fact that he’d blushed again.
Kinger laughed heartily. “Yeah, sure… Come here,” he added, motioning for him to come closer. The AI obeyed. “My boy…” the human sighed, squeezing Caine’s shoulder. “You’ve come so far… I remember when you were just a little red dot on a screen…”
Caine rubbed himself against Kinger’s cloak. It smelled like… home.
“We have to make up for all the lost time. I missed you so much, Dad.”
At those words, Kinger's eyes welled up and his heart skipped a beat. “I missed you too, Caine. I missed you too.”