Chapter Text
“A robot revolution is upon us.”
The impassioned words of Dr. Takahiro Ishimura filled the auditorium, igniting the minds of his inquisitive audience. The world-renowned roboticist did not often visit Seoul, but whenever he did, notable members of both academia and the media were always present. Ishimura was known for his extraordinary – yet eccentric – thoughts and theories, as well as his extensive contributions to the field of robotics. Such a visit was a rare spectacle, and the audience came prepared, wielding an array of cameras, microphones, audio recorders, and notebooks – eager to capture every word.
The man stood at the elevated podium, poised and confident, a translator working diligently at his side. “It’s already starting to happen,” he told them. “We are developing authentic attachments to our technical inventions. Tell me – who of you, in here this afternoon, purposely left your smartphone at home?”
A brief round of laughter rose from the audience, to which Ishimura responded with a satisfied chuckle. “It is indeed happening,” he stated, “and it’s guaranteed to change the way we see ourselves. Robots have become our colleagues – even our companions. We have developed – and continue to develop – robots to serve in healthcare, manufacturing, education, and also customer service industries. Some of these robots look like animals or toys. But others look disturbingly like us.”
Here, the man paused, his brow furrowing in thought. “But is it disturbing as much as it is eye-opening?” He asked of them. “For, you see, the study of human-like robots – of androids – can never be done without the pursuit of human-likeness itself. Studying androids is almost equivalent to studying what it means to be human. In order to make something that is useful for people, we must first understand human beings. As hard as it may be to believe, robots are not that much different from humans. Or should I say, humans are not that much different from robots. We are only more autonomous and more intelligent – that’s it,” he declared, simply. “It really is. It’s interesting how we human beings don’t really understand ourselves. What is human? What do we mean when we say think? What are emotions? These are the questions that we need to ask.”
“I can’t believe you guys actually showed up!” Namjoon slid into a seat at the occupied booth, and reached across the table for a steaming hot chicken wing. It was only just after four-thirty pm, but the restaurant was already crowded and bustling with activity. ‘Wings’ was a popular spot on Seoul National University’s campus, boasting a delicious menu and casual atmosphere – and it served as the perfect meeting place for Namjoon’s special announcement.
The rest of his friends were all sat around the table, decorated with heaping plates of fried chicken, and they dove right in, not even bothering to wait for Namjoon to arrive. To be honest, they had no clue as to what he was going to tell them, and they hadn’t received much by way of preamble. All they had gotten was a text message to their group chat, saying “BIG news!!!! Wings @ 4:30.”
“I mean, you called us out here,” Yoongi grumbled from his place beside Namjoon, his chopsticks aiming for a piece of chicken. “I was in the middle of a fucking nap.” He stuffed the chicken into his mouth.
“Okay, but is there ever a good time to call you, though?” Namjoon countered in defense, grabbing an unused pair of chopsticks. “If you're not sleeping, you're high.”
“And?” Yoongi turned to look at him, his narrowed eyes unimpressed, before turning away and taking a long gulp of his soda. “I can’t even lie – I’m just here for the food.”
“They, honestly, have the best chicken,” Hoseok agreed from across the table.
“But knowing you,” Jimin tossed a napkin at Namjoon, a teasing lilt in his voice, “that’s probably not why we’re here.”
“Yeah – what’s the big news?” Taehyung asked around a mouthful of chicken.
“Well,” Namjoon started, wiping his hands on the napkin, “I was at Dr. Ishimura’s lecture yesterday.”
“Oh, really?” Seokjin perked up, curious. “How was it?”
“Ah – it was amazing,” Namjoon recalled. “That man’s like the godfather of robotics – so happy I went,” he picked at a chicken drumstick. “When Ishimura talks robotics,” he took a bite of the chicken, “you fucking listen. And I was moved. Seriously, I was inspired. The things he was saying, man, it was deep. I’m talking about things that can reform life as we know it.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes. “You’re always talking shit.”
“I’m serious!” Namjoon insisted. “And it got me thinking,” he then looked around the table, at the faces of his friends, and gestured towards them with his chopsticks. “We need to get in on this.”
“We?” Seokjin asked, unsurely.
“Yeah! Here it is,” Namjoon set down his chopsticks before fully addressing them again. “Our thesis projects are coming up—”
“Whoa – can you not bring this up right now?” Hoseok was practically offended at hearing Namjoon’s statement. “I’m not even thinking about that yet!”
“Relax, relax – I’m getting to it,” Namjoon assured him. “We’re not gonna do our individual thesis projects.”
At that, Hoseok suddenly became more interested, his face lighting up, and he leaned in to pay closer attention. “I like where this is going.”
“Instead,” Namjoon continued, “we’re gonna do a combined project.”
Hoseok wrinkled his nose, a grimace contorting his features, and he leaned back against the leather seat. “Uh, not so sure I like this anymore.”
And then, finally – with a proud smile and dimples piercing his cheeks – Namjoon made his long-awaited announcement: “We’re gonna build an android.”
Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “An android?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon confirmed with vigor, “but not just any android. We’re gonna build one that’s indistinguishable from a human.”
Hoseok seemed skeptical. “Why?”
Namjoon looked over at him, almost in disbelief. “Why? Because this is the next thing,” he proclaimed then turned to address the group once more. “This is where we’re headed. We’re literally standing at the 'uncanny valley' – tell me you guys still remember what that theory is?”
Jimin smirked. “We wouldn’t all be getting our Masters in Robotics, if we didn’t,” he chimed in. “It’s what separates humans and machines.”
“Exactly!” Namjoon lit up. “You see, the problem with all the robots we have now is that you look at them, and they look so obviously robotic. No matter what, you look at the robot – or, in this case, the android – and it looks and acts like an android. People feel safer with this. It reinforces the ‘us versus them’ paradigm – emphasis on the us. But super-realism – no,” he paused, gathering his thoughts, “humanism is just on the other side of that valley. We’ve just gotta cross it. Guys,” an air of seriousness strengthened his words, “this is like the ultimate test. What if we created an android that was completely autonomous? With human-level intelligence – that could think, reason, and feel? And between the six of us, we have all the skills we need to do it. Jimin,” he turned to face the redhead, “you know everything there is to know about artificial intelligence. Yoongi,” he looked over to his friend beside him, “bro. You’re a genius. You know bionics like the back of your hand. Seokjin,” he gestured towards the eldest, “you’re a biomed engineer-turned-roboticist. Who does that? Honestly, that’s fucking incredible. Taehyung,” he brought his gaze over to the brunet, “the research you’ve contributed to sensory systems is practically unprecedented. You avant-garde motherfucker. And Hoseok,” he addressed the other male. “Dude, the stuff you do with actuators blows my mind. And combine all of that with my work on algorithms and microchips – we’ve got our android! And then,” he added, “we’ll be published in IJRR. The International Journal of Robotics Research. We’ll get accolades, fame – money.”
“Hmm,” Yoongi cocked his head to the side, in interest. “I hate to admit it, but this does sound kinda tempting.”
“And that’s just the beginning,” Namjoon told them. “Seriously, I’ve known you guys since undergrad, and you’re actually some of the smartest people I know.”
“Aww,” Jimin gushed at the compliment.
“I wouldn't ask you guys to do this, if I didn’t think you could do it. I know you can,” Namjoon affirmed. “We can do this. So what do you guys say? Are you in?”
For several moments, the only sounds that could be heard were the rowdiness of the restaurant and an upbeat soundtrack humming overhead. The others sat in near silence, contemplating and considering everything their friend had just explained to them. Namjoon looked around the table, expectantly, but the longer the young men stayed silent, the more anxious he grew. Truthfully, he had started to lose hope – but then he heard an “I’m in” from Seokjin.
“I’m in,” Jimin added.
“Me, too,” said Taehyung.
“Count me in!” Hoseok cheered.
Yoongi shrugged in a carefree manner. “Let’s do it.”
And that was all the confirmation that Namjoon needed. “Alright!” He held up a soda can in celebration. “Let’s build an android.”
It wasn’t long before work on ‘Project Golden97’ began; Namjoon had selected the name. Their ideas were rapid and fast flowing, and soon, their thoughts manifested into plans for action.
“We wanna create the illusion of sentience – that’s one of our major goals,” Namjoon spoke to them, as they all gathered together in the robotics lab one afternoon, surrounded by textbooks and boxes of pizzas. “We’re going for customizable programming of personality. Jimin, that’s you,” he pointed his pen at the other male. “We wanna create the illusion that the android is talking to us – not just nonsense, but that it actually has sentience.”
The red-haired male nodded in approval. “Got it.”
“I’ll work on designing an algorithm that’ll act as the ‘brain’,” Namjoon decided, scrawling a note onto his clipboard. “I want it to learn from its environment and become smarter over time. Seokjin, I know you’ve been working on a new kind of artificial skin. How’s that going?”
“It’s going good!” was Seokjin’s response. “I just need to put it through some more testing, but it’s looking really promising.”
“Wait – what do you guys think of solar power?” Taehyung brought up, as he skimmed his way through some of his research notes. “I’m thinking we should use it.”
“Yeah, yeah, we should totally use it!” Hoseok agreed. “The actuators I wanna make would probably run better on solar power. And we can store it for – maybe, like – seventy-two hours before recharging again. Seokjin, can the skin you’re making convert light into energy? That way, it can go right into the actuators – or the muscles.”
Seokjin thought for a moment. “Uh, I can test it?”
Hoseok pursed his lips, a bit disgruntled with that answer. “Okay, let me rephrase that: can you make the skin convert light into energy?”
“Yeah, sure, I can do that.”
Namjoon nodded to himself, quickly readjusting his beanie atop his head. “Good stuff, good stuff,” he mumbled, as he crossed an item off of his clipboard. “Yoongi,” he addressed the blond, “you know what you’re doing for machinery?”
“Yeah, I’ve done it loads of times,” he answered, nonchalantly. “This is nothing.”
“This could mean everything if it works out,” Namjoon reminded him. “We can do it, guys – I like how it’s all coming together.”
The days turned to weeks, and the weeks dragged on into months. A year had passed – and then another. It was late April, and talks of fall graduation for the Seoul National students were steadily approaching. Deadlines began looming in closer, all driven by the ceaseless ticking of the clock.
After their seemingly endless efforts, the group of friends had finally assembled their finished product. It was standing, upright, covered in a large white tarp in the centre of the robotics lab. The fluorescent lights grafted into the ceiling beamed down upon it, and all eyes in the room stared on in anticipation.
“It’s been a long time coming,” Namjoon addressed his friends, his voice heavy with exaggerated solemnity. He exhaled a deep and onerous sigh. “But, finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for,” he paused momentarily then concluded with “has arrived.”
“Oh my god,” Yoongi groaned at the dramatic behaviour.
“And now, my fellow colleagues,” Namjoon resumed in the same grandiose fashion as before, “I present to you,” he took a hold of the white tarp, “Project Golden97.” And with that, he whipped the covering off – and the group gawked in open-mouthed awe.
For a moment, the thought that Namjoon might have kidnapped an undergraduate student had crossed their minds. For it seemed impossible that the young man standing in front of them was composed of anything other than flesh and blood. But the android stood before them, raven-coloured hair falling across its forehead, and eyes closed as if in sleep. It was clothed, casually, in a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and beige boots – and although they were all awe-struck, no one was more astonished than Taehyung, who was virtually mesmerized. He’d only seen the android in bits and pieces, but to finally see the completed product was truly incredible.
Then an appreciative chorus of “Look at it!”, “Nice work!”, “Wow!”, and “Ohhh, man, this is fucking cool!” echoed about the room.
Namjoon soaked it all in, practically glowing. “Isn’t it awesome? I got some help with the final design from a few Fine Arts majors. As long as you tell them it’s for credit, undergrads will do anything.”
“He looks so real,” Taehyung breathed out, and he took a few steps closer, walking right up to the android. His eyes roved across it, examining the strands of hair, the intricate eyelashes, the deep-set pores in the skin. And he exhaled a breath in wonder, genuine amazement overtaking him. “We might actually pull this off.”
“Let’s see if we did,” Jimin said, joining Taehyung. “Moment of truth, gentlemen – Tae, you might wanna step back.”
“What – oh, sorry,” Taehyung stammered, quickly snapping out of his daze, and moved off to the side.
The redhead looked at the android – and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat precautious. Despite having designed the AI interface, he wasn’t sure of what to expect. But he summoned up his courage and opened his mouth to say the prompt, “Running executable,” followed by the command, “engage.”
At that, the android’s eyes snapped open – and Jimin gasped a little in fright, jumping back a bit. After that sudden movement, everyone viewed the android with vigilance; they watched carefully as its eyes came into focus, and the chest started to move with steady breaths. Those eyes looked upon the wary group of friends, internal cameras analyzing them intensely, flicking from one person to the other.
“Okay – turn it off, turn it off,” Namjoon instructed, attempting to hide the hint of fear in his voice. “J-Just to make sure it works.”
Jimin nodded, swallowing thickly. He took a deep breath then recited the prompt, “Running executable,” and the command, “disengage.”
The android instantly powered down; its eyes shut, and it had stopped breathing.
“Wow,” Seokjin blinked. “It’s working.”
“So far, so good,” the redhead noted, gaining confidence, before refocusing on the task at hand. “Okay, last time,” he said. “Running executable: engage.”
And just as before, the android opened its eyes, all systems functioning in unison. Satisfied with this, Jimin continued. “Let’s test the speech.” He stepped closer, and sensing the movement, the android turned its head slightly to observe him, its eyes locking intently with his. In all honesty, the stark manner in which it was watching him was starting to make Jimin feel a little nervous. However, he spoke up, anyway, his words clear and direct. “My name is Jimin,” he began. “Do you understand me?”
Those dark eyes flickered across Jimin’s, and its brow seemed to furrow in concentration, almost as if it were registering this query. And after a few moments of terse silence, it spoke: “Yes, Jimin.” Its voice was light and airy, but roughened with a distinct rasp; the pattern of speech was uncannily natural, having a native flow and cadence. And Jimin even saw the shadow of a smile on the android’s lips. “I understand you,” it said.
And with those words, everyone seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. “We did it!” Hoseok exclaimed. “It’s talking! It’s alive! We’re gonna be rich!”
“But, wait – this is just the first step!” Namjoon reminded them, though he himself could hardly contain his excitement. “Remember our tests? We’ve gotta put those in place and make sure everything’s working properly. We need to start testing it in an uncontrolled environment—”
“Or we could just take it outside,” Seokjin suggested.
Namjoon faltered for a bit, but quickly agreed. “Yeah, that works, too.”
“We should give him a name.”
At the sound of his voice, everyone turned their attention towards Taehyung – and there was a gravity in his gaze, his brown eyes seemingly transfixed upon the android. “If we’re going for human-likeness, we should probably give him a human name,” he elaborated.
But Namjoon sought to protest this decision. “What’s wrong with Project Golden97?”
To that, Yoongi snorted, eyeing the other male quizzically. “A human name.”
“Well, what do you think we should call him then?”
The blond was quieted after that, for he was unsure. He did not know, and it appeared as if none of them did – until Hoseok got an idea. “How about Jungkook?”
“Jungkook?”
“Yeah! Nationwide,” he explained further. “’cause once we get famous, he’ll be known all over, baby!”
Namjoon gave a slow nod, mulling the thought over in his head. “I like that.”
“Yeah, it’s not bad,” Seokjin agreed.
“So it’s decided,” Jimin smiled. He then turned back around to articulate a prompt. “New data,” he stated, “your name is Jungkook.”
And it was like something came alive behind the android’s eyes; there was a definitive spark, lightened and livened. Then the android’s lips parted to speak: “My name is Jungkook,” he said.