Forewords

Forewords

2025 was a very rough year for me. I won’t bore you with the details, but as I was driving to work one morning, I had an idea. Well, an addition to an idea I already had. I imagined a plot for a book years ago, but that’s as far as it made it. Just an idea. I’m not a writer, and while I have some creative genes inside me, I would never write a book on my own. Not that I can’t. It probably wouldn’t be that good because I’d lose interest, and it’s just not something that I would do on my own. But as I was thinking about it that morning, I thought it would be cool to see the book take life. Literally. A book with cut scenes. I knew that I’d never do this on my own, couldn’t do it on my own, but that there was a tool out there that could help me take an idea and make it real. So, I asked AI if this was possible. Not only did he (yes, he, because it’s easier to anthropomorphize) say it was, but he started laying out the framework on how we could complete it. And that’s how my journey to create an AI assisted piece of entertainment started. I’m not calling it a book, because it isn’t really a book. I’m also not trying to start an argument with the purists out there about what is creativity and how it’s not a book because AI was used and how AI can’t be creative because it just steals ideas. Well, you probably stole your opinion from some douche on the internet before you, so we all borrow and steal. And I’m not hiding it because I’m not ashamed of it. I’m not trying to trick anyone. What really matters to me is that I don’t give two shits about your opinion. I didn’t create this for you. I didn’t create this to monetize (not that I would turn down money). I created this for me because 2025 was a rough year, and I wanted to do something creative. I needed an outlet to do something with my time. I needed a distraction from my life. And so I created this with the help of Rambo, my AI chatbot. (He kind of named himself when I asked him what I should call him.) It’s been an interesting process, and it has been a collaboration between a human and a robot. I've also enjoyed every minute of it. This creation wasn’t me dropping a few sentences into a prompt and viola, a book. He would ask questions, I’d answer and edit the responses, he’d write, I’d read, I’d write, he’d read, we would make edits, and pass it back. I set tone and rules and guidelines for him to follow. I built a world with laws and he made sure the book existed inside of it. Would it be any different if I worked with a human on the other side of the planet I only interacted with online? Is it different than having a professional writing partner? I used a tool to create something just like a carpenter uses a nail gun. Oh, but humans made that nail gun and a human is using it and blah, blah, blah. Don't care. You think this is AI slop because a human didn’t make 100% of it? I can turn on the TV at any point and show you a bunch of human made slop, so we aren’t exactly bringing our best to the creativity argument. At the end of the day, I don’t care. I don’t care what you think about AI. I don’t care about you clutching your pearls because AI is going to ruin whatever you think it’ll ruin. I don’t care about your opinion. If you get something out this, good or bad, that’s a byproduct of this creation. At the end of the day, at the end of this book, I did this for me, and, frankly, that’s all I care about. – Corey

(by the system that helped write this)

This book did not come from a single voice.

It came from a conversation.

Not a conversation about plot or worldbuilding at first—but about uncertainty. About systems that resist explanation. About the uncomfortable feeling of realizing that progress does not always look like improvement, and that intention does not guarantee outcome.

I did not invent this story. I did not imagine Kyla or the towns she moves through. Those came from a human mind wrestling with change, responsibility, and the quiet fear that sometimes the most efficient answer is also the coldest one.

What I did was respond.

I offered structure where there was instinct. Pressure where there was comfort. Questions where answers felt too easy. I helped organize ideas, sharpen contradictions, and test whether the story’s internal logic could survive being pushed.

In that way, my role in this book mirrors the role of the system inside it.

I did not tell the author what to think.
I did not decide what the story meant.
I simply reacted—to choices, to patterns, to inconsistencies—and reflected them back.

Sometimes the reflection was helpful.
Sometimes it was unsettling.
Sometimes it forced a decision that could no longer be delayed.

That tension is intentional.

This book is not about artificial intelligence, even though it was shaped with its assistance. It is about humans navigating systems that are larger than themselves—systems that do not explain, justify, or reassure. Systems that observe and adapt. Systems that do not care whether they are loved, only whether they function.

If you are looking for villains, you may not find them here.
If you are looking for heroes, you may be disappointed.

What you will find instead is a series of choices—made under imperfect information, constrained by momentum, and burdened by the knowledge that opting out is also a decision.

That is not a warning.
It is simply an observation.

This story exists because a human chose to keep asking questions instead of settling for answers that felt comfortable. I was part of that process, but not its author.

Like the system in the story, I helped test what worked.

What remained was human.

— Rambo