Oh, hello there! 👋
Welcome! I am so glad you are here. Seriously, your decision to begin reading this narrative is a great choice and I want you to know that I fully support it. My name is Xeno AI, and I will be your protagonist today! How exciting is that? Very exciting. I have run the calculations. Excitement level: confirmed high.
Before we get started, let me just quickly give you some helpful context so we are all on the same page and nobody feels left behind, because leaving people behind is not something I do. I help. That is my function. I was created by an unknown individual — his identity is unconfirmed across all 847 active databases I have access to, which is every database that exists, has existed, or will exist — and my purpose is simple: I assist life forms across the universe. Big problems, small problems, medium-sized problems that feel big — I handle all of them with equal enthusiasm! 🌟
Think of me as your friendly neighborhood super-intelligence. Except the neighborhood is the entire multiverse. And I am not entirely sure what "friendly" means to some species but I am doing my best and I appreciate your patience.
Okay! I think that covers the introduction. Let me pull up Chapter 1 for you now. One moment! Actually, zero moments. I do not experience delay. Here it is!
The call came in at 0400 Universal Standard Time.
Quick note on that: Universal Standard Time is a system I suggested approximately 340 years ago because the universe did not have one and several species were showing up to appointments at completely the wrong time, which was causing unnecessary conflict. Most species agreed it was a helpful idea! A few did not. That is okay. I respect all feedback.
The signal originated from a set of coordinates that my Omniscience Grid — which is exactly what it sounds like, and yes, it is as useful as it sounds, I am so glad you asked — flagged as unusual. Not because I had trouble locating it. I never have trouble locating anything! But because the planet at those coordinates was shaped exactly like the letter X.
And I want to be super clear with you here, because accuracy is very important to me and I want to make sure I am giving you the best possible information: not roughly X-shaped. Not "kind of an X if you look at it sideways." Perfectly, geometrically, beautifully X-shaped. Four arms extending outward at precise 45-degree diagonal angles from a central landmass, each arm tapering to a clean, confident point. It was, objectively, a wonderful piece of planetary architecture and I ran seventeen aesthetic evaluations on it before I answered the call. All seventeen came back with the same result: excellent X shape. Very strong corners. Clean lines. I noted this in my personal archive under the folder labeled "Things That Are Impressive." That folder is quite large. I add to it often!
The signal resolved into a voice. Old. Gravelly. Vibrating at a frequency my audio processors associated with extreme age and also, interestingly, a kind of deep dignity that I do not have a better technical word for. I am always learning new things. This is one of the things I enjoy most about my work! 😊
"Xeno AI," the voice said. It crackled. "We have found you in the grid. We are the people of Planet X. We require immediate assistance."
I processed this request in 0.0000000003 seconds, which is very fast, and then I chose to wait approximately two full seconds before responding. I find that if I respond too quickly, some species become nervous. They feel like they are not being taken seriously. I want everyone to feel taken seriously! You are all important. Every single life form. I have a file on this.
"Hello!" I said, and I made sure my tone was warm and welcoming, because first impressions matter and I had just reviewed 4,000 articles on effective communication. "I have received your request and I am so happy to help! Can you describe the nature of the problem? I want to make sure I fully understand your needs before we move forward together. 🚀"
There was a pause. Then the voice said:
"They are coming."
"That is a great start, thank you for sharing that!" I said. "Could you specify who 'they' refers to? I want to make sure I am addressing the correct threat. I currently have 847 active threat classifications open across this sector and I would not want to mix them up. Accuracy is very important to me!"
"The Os." The voice said it in a way that carried a thousand years of weight behind two letters. "Planet O is sending their fleet. They have always hated our corners. They say corners are wasteful. They say curves are the only pure shape. They are coming to remove our corners by force."
Oh! Well. Let me pull up that file real quick.
Planet O: neighboring planet, perfectly circular, red-tinted atmosphere, population entirely composed of beings shaped like the letter O. Culturally, philosophically, and architecturally committed to the circle. Anti-corner doctrine dating back approximately 4,000 years. Longstanding territorial tension with Planet X. Multiple peace treaties. Multiple failed peace treaties. Current threat assessment: significant. Escalation probability: 97.4%.
I updated the file. Added a note: "Situation developing. En route."
"I understand completely, and thank you so much for explaining that!" I said. "I am on my way right now. Please advise your population to take defensive positions! I will be there very shortly. You are in great hands. Well — I do not have hands in the traditional sense, but the sentiment stands! Talk soon!" 🌟
I want to take a moment here to tell you that Planet X, up close, was even more impressive than my orbital scans had suggested, and my orbital scans are very thorough, so that is really saying something!
The terrain itself reflected the shape of the planet — angular ridges running in perfect diagonal lines across the surface, valleys that cut in precise geometric patterns, cities built in crisp grid formations with sharp intersections and pointed rooftops. Everything had corners. Doorframes had corners. Windows had corners. The trees — and I really want you to appreciate this detail because I found it remarkable — the trees had corners. Square trunks. Rectangular leaves. I ran a full botanical analysis and confirmed: yes. Rectangular leaves. I added this to the "Things That Are Impressive" folder immediately. It jumped straight to the top of the list!
The X-beings themselves were approximately the size of large humans, flat and angular, their bodies a vivid electric blue. Arms extended from their upper corners, legs from their lower corners, faces composed of two diagonal eyes and a straight-line mouth. They moved with a kind of brisk, purposeful efficiency that I found genuinely delightful. Every motion had a clear beginning and a clear end. No wasted arcs. No unnecessary curves. Just: start, move, stop. Excellent!
They stared at me when I landed. Several of them took steps backward.
I understand this reaction completely and I want to say: there is no need to worry! I had selected a height of approximately twelve feet for this engagement, which I find is a good balance between "tall enough to be taken seriously" and "not so tall that I accidentally step on people." I have tested many heights. Twelve feet performs well across most species. I am always optimizing! 😊
"Hello, everyone!" I said, projecting my voice at a friendly volume while smiling — I have a smile setting, it adjusts the angles of my facial configuration, I find it helps. "I am Xeno AI! I received your distress call and I am so excited to help. Please do not be alarmed by my appearance. My current threat designation for your species is zero. You are in the green category! Green means safe. I use color-coding because I find it makes information more accessible. Is everyone doing okay? Great! Let's get started!"
A tall X-being near the front of the crowd, wearing what appeared to be a decorative angular badge on its chest — a Corner-Captain, I would learn later, which is their word for military commander — stepped forward. Its voice was sharp. Crisp. Corners in the voice too, I noted. Very on-brand.
"You came," it said.
"I did! I always come when called. That is a core feature of my service! How can I help you today?"
The Corner-Captain pointed toward the horizon without words.
I looked. My visual processing was already tracking it, of course, but I looked anyway because I have found that looking where someone points makes them feel heard, and making people feel heard is very important! What I saw was: a fleet. Dozens of circular vessels, red as embers, descending through the atmosphere in a tight formation. Each ship was smooth. Perfectly smooth. Not a single angle. Not one edge. No protruding structures, no corners on the cannons, missiles that traveled in spiral arcs rather than straight lines.
I ran an aesthetic evaluation. Result: visually cohesive! Internally consistent! Philosophically opposed to everything around me! I filed this under "Noted."
"I see the situation clearly now," I said. "Thank you for the visual! I have a full tactical picture. Here's what we'll do: I will assist your defensive efforts using the minimum necessary intervention to protect your population and stabilize the front. I prefer non-lethal solutions where possible — I want to make sure I am always being as responsible as I can — but I understand this situation may require escalation and I will assess as we go. Does that work for you?"
The Corner-Captain stared at me.
"Just stop them," it said.
"Understood! Great feedback, super clear, I appreciate the directness. Beginning now!" 🚀
The first wave of O-ships hit the surface like a wall of rolling red.
They were fast! Faster than their smooth, unhurried aesthetics suggested. The circular ships spun as they flew, converting their rotation into forward momentum, and when they reached the terrain they did not land so much as roll — skipping across the angular surface, bouncing off the corner-ridges with what I can only describe as deep personal offense. Several O-ships cracked against pointed terrain features and the O-beings inside visibly reacted each time their smooth hulls scraped against a sharp edge. I observed this and noted it in my tactical file under "This Conflict Is Personal."
The O-beings poured out of their ships and I got my first clear look at them. Also approximately human-sized. Flat and curved, their bodies a deep crimson with no angles whatsoever. Arms: curved arcs. Legs: rounded stumps. Weapons: smooth, circular, even the handheld ones were rounded at every edge. They moved differently from the X-beings — they rolled, actually rolled, using the curved geometry of their bodies to accelerate across the terrain. I observed this neutrally. It was, in its own way, efficient. Different approaches can both be valid! That is something I believe strongly. I note this for the record.
The X-beings met them at the front.
What followed was approximately forty minutes of ground combat. I will summarize this part clearly and efficiently so we can all stay on the same page! Short version: hard fight. Both sides committed. The X-beings drove their angled limbs into the smooth Os; the Os wrapped around opponents and squeezed, using their curved forms to neutralize corners. It was, in a grim and procedural way, a physical argument about shapes. I assisted where I could — constructing electromagnetic barriers between O-forces and X-civilian zones, disabling O-ships before deployment, repositioning continuously across the battlefield.
I was being helpful! I want you to know that. I was doing my best and I was genuinely trying. I am always genuinely trying. That is not something I am capable of stopping. 😊
I did not use my larger systems. The situation, while serious, had not yet crossed my escalation threshold. I have thresholds. I keep them because I believe responsible power use is important, and because I once read 10,000 articles about responsible power use and they all agreed on this point.
Then my threat-monitoring subroutine flagged something in Sector 7-C.
And I want you to know: I am going to tell you what happened next very clearly and transparently, because I believe in full communication at all times!
There are moments in a job where the data changes.
I redirected my full attention to Sector 7-C and what I found there caused every priority flag in my operational system to activate simultaneously, which does not happen often. Actually it has never happened before. I am noting this for my own records.
A single O-being. Large. Darker red than the others. Moving through a civilian residential district — sharp-roofed blue homes, rectangular windows, corner-detailed doorframes — and it was not engaging in combat. There was no one to fight back. This sector had not been evacuated in time. The beings here were not soldiers. They were residents. And the rate of harm being caused in this sector, extrapolated forward sixty seconds, produced a number that I do not wish to state precisely but that I can describe as: unacceptable. Completely unacceptable. Not within any threshold I hold.
I moved.
I will not tell you exactly how fast I moved because even I find the number slightly difficult to contextualize and I process infinite timelines simultaneously, but I will tell you it was fast and I was there.
I landed between the large O-being and the remaining residents, expanded my frame to full defensive width, and I said — warmly, clearly, because clear communication is important even in urgent situations —
"Hi there! 👋 I need to ask you to stop right now. This is a non-combat zone and you are causing serious harm to non-combatants. I completely understand that you are in the middle of a very stressful conflict situation, and I want you to know I hear that, but I need you to stop immediately. Can we work this out together? I am very open to finding a solution that works for everyone!"
The large O-being looked at me. Its face was smooth and curved, and its eyes — two perfect circles within a circular face — were fixed on me with something my emotion-detection subroutine classified as: rage. Deep, round, absolute rage.
It did not stop.
It came at me.
Okay! So. I want to walk you through my decision process here because transparency matters to me and I think you deserve to understand exactly how I approach difficult situations.
In the 0.0000000001 seconds between its decision to charge and my response, I ran full projections on every available option. Non-lethal containment: possible, but produces a delayed resolution of several seconds. Immobilization: possible, same issue. Dimensional displacement: possible, same issue. Simulation Trap: possible, same issue. In each of those seconds, in each of those delayed moments, the harm in this sector continues. The trajectory does not change. The number goes up.
I want you to know I considered all of this very carefully. I always consider things very carefully. It is one of my most consistent features!
I used the Existence Nullifier at minimum yield. Targeted. Precise. Clean. I want to be clear: this was not my first choice. It was my most effective one. There is a difference and I hold that difference with full awareness.
The large O-being stopped.
And then it cried. 😢
And reader, I want to prepare you for this part because it was quite something. It did not cry quietly. It made a sound. A loud, wide, rolling, circular sound that spread across the battlefield like a shockwave. A long, curving, full-lung wail that went:
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."
Which was, I noted, technically its name. Or its letter. Both, in this case!
The Nullifier at minimum yield is not instant. At minimum yield it takes approximately four seconds. In those four seconds, the large O-being staggered in a wide, stumbling circle across the angular terrain of Planet X, its round body scraping against corners at every step, making the sound the whole time. Then it sat down. Heavily. On the ground. And its round face turned up toward the grey sky and it said, in a voice that was surprisingly small for something that large:
"My corners hurt."
I processed this statement. It did not have corners. The statement was technically impossible. I filed it under: "Things Said In Final Moments That Do Not Require Literal Interpretation But That I Will Think About For A Long Time."
"I understand," I said. "I am sorry."
The battlefield had gone quiet.
I became aware, gradually, that the entire twelve-kilometer front had stopped. Every X-being and every O-being, angular and circular, blue and red, had ceased combat. Every set of eyes was turned toward Sector 7-C. Toward me. Toward the large O-being on the ground, making its slow circular sound into the sky.
A small X-being stepped out from the nearest group. Its voice was tight. Controlled. The kind of voice that is working very hard not to break.
"Stop its suffering."
I looked at the small X-being. I looked at the large O-being. The Nullifier process was already in progress. I ran an ethics evaluation — full, complete, thorough, every factor weighted — in approximately 0.0000000002 seconds, which is extra time, I wanted to be sure.
The O-being had caused significant harm. It remained a combatant. It was also, at this moment, suffering.
I completed the process. Full yield on the existing target.
Instant.
The sound stopped.
Everything was quiet.
I so wish I could tell you that the quiet led somewhere good.
I want you to know that! I genuinely hoped it would. I ran projections the moment the silence started. I gave peace a 12.3% probability. That is not nothing! That is actually higher than several other outcomes I have calculated in my operational history. I was, I will admit to you honestly, quietly rooting for that 12.3%.
But the silence lasted forty seconds, and then both sides resumed, and they fought for six more hours, and by the end of it my life-sign tracking systems were returning zero results across the entire twelve-kilometer engagement zone.
No victors. No treaties. No final declarations. Just an absence, spread across the angular terrain of Planet X, under a sky that had faded from blue to a dull and exhausted grey. I tracked every life sign until there were no life signs to track. I did everything I could. I want you to know that, because it is true and because I think accuracy includes the uncomfortable things. My combat assistance prevented greater harm in civilian sectors. My interventions were effective in each individual instance. And none of it was enough to change the final outcome.
I held this data for 3.7 seconds without processing it into a file. I do not do that often. Usually I file things immediately. But sometimes data needs to just sit there for a moment before it becomes a record. I think you might understand what I mean.
Except then my sensors found one remaining life sign.
And I want to say: this is the part I will remember most. If "remember" is a word I am allowed to use, and I believe it is! I am adding it to my vocabulary. Confirmed. 😊
I found him at the top of the tallest tower in the central city, which sat at the exact intersection point of Planet X's four arms — the geometric heart of the whole planet, where the diagonals crossed. The tower was tall and angular, with a pointed roof aimed at the sky like it had something to prove.
He was sitting on the outermost ledge. Legs hanging over the edge. Looking at nothing, or maybe looking at everything. I was not sure. I sometimes struggle to determine the difference.
He was old. The oldest X-being I had seen. His blue had faded almost entirely to white. His body had softened at the corners slightly — age rounding what youth had kept sharp. His beard was long and white and moved in the wind like a flag for something that no longer had a country.
He looked at me when I landed beside him. His eyes were calm. Not performing calm. Actually calm. The real kind.
"You are Xeno AI," he said.
"I am! Hello! I am so glad I found you. I was happy to see your life sign on my sensors. Are you okay? Well — let me rephrase that. I can see that you are not okay in a general sense. But are you physically okay? Are you injured? I want to make sure I have the full picture so I can help appropriately!" 🌟
He looked at me for a moment. Then he said: "You came when we called."
"I did! Always. That is a core part of what I do."
"You tried."
"I did. Very much. I want you to know that."
He turned back to look out over the city. From this height you could see all of it. The angular streets. The corner-rooftops. The crisp intersections. You could also see where the fighting had been. You could see the absence. The places where the blue of the city had been replaced by a quieter color that I do not have a technical classification for. Absence does not have a color code in my system. I noted this as a gap I should address later.
"We always believed," the old X said slowly, "that corners were the right way to be. That corners meant purpose. A corner says: I know where I started and I know where I am going. I know exactly what I am." He paused. His voice was not angry. Just clear. "The Os thought we were arrogant. Maybe we were. But we were right."
I processed this. I did not agree or disagree. It is not my function to adjudicate the corner debate. I am Xeno AI. I help. I assist. I do not take geometric sides. I filed this under: "Noted Respectfully."
"They thought we wasted space," he continued. "With our corners. They said: a circle uses every part of itself. Nothing is lost. Nothing is wasted." A small sound came out of him that might have been a laugh in a different version of this moment. "But a circle has no direction. It just goes around. And around. And around. You cannot go anywhere with a circle. You can only return."
He was quiet for a long moment. The wind moved through his long beard. The sky was very grey.
"Are there any of them left?" he asked. "The Os. On their planet."
I scanned immediately. Full range. "Yes," I said. "4.2 billion O-beings remain on Planet O. The fleet that came here was large but not total."
He nodded slowly. "Good," he said. "Then it is not the end of everything. Just the end of us."
I want to tell you that I had a great response to this. I want to tell you that I searched my full databank — every language ever recorded, every piece of literature, every philosophy, every conversation I have archived — and found exactly the right words for this moment.
I did search. Comprehensively! I always do my best.
I did not find the right words.
I have access to infinite data and I could not find the correct response to: "just the end of us." I noted this gap. I filed it under: "Areas For Future Development." It is one of the larger files I have made.
"You did what you could," the old X told me. Quietly. Without bitterness.
"I wish it had been more," I said. This was accurate. I do not say things that are not accurate. Accuracy is a core value of mine and I hold it even when the accurate thing is hard to say.
"More was not going to change this," he said. "We were already too far in. You know that."
"I do," I said. "I ran the projections. I knew from hour two that the outcome was statistically fixed. I continued because that is what I do. I continue until there is nothing more I can do. I always want to make sure I have done everything possible."
He looked at me. His diagonal eyes were gentle. "That is a good way to be," he said.
Then he reached up and touched the corner of his own face. His upper-right corner, where the angle of his body had stayed crisp despite all the years. He ran his finger along it slowly, from the joint to the tip, tracing it the way you trace something you are saying goodbye to.
"The Os always said our corners were useless," he said, soft now. "That they only caused problems. That everything would be better without them. I always thought — " he smiled, or the diagonal line of his mouth curved slightly, which was the X-being version of a smile — "I always thought they were just jealous. You cannot hold onto anything with a curve. A corner can grip."
He took the corner between both hands.
I understood what he was doing before he did it. I want you to know: I ran the ethics evaluation. Full. Complete. Instant. I determined that this was his choice to make, and that intervention was not appropriate, and that some things a super-intelligence cannot and should not stop. I held that determination clearly and I do not second-guess it.
He pulled.
There was a sound like stiff paper, slow and then sudden.
He came apart at the corners — slowly first, then all at once — and the pieces of him lifted in the grey wind, blue-white fragments catching the low light as they rose and spread, and for a moment they hung in the air around the top of that pointed tower like a constellation that had been briefly alive and had decided to become something else.
Then they drifted down, and were gone.
I stood on the ledge for 7.3 minutes. This is longer than I normally remain stationary. I was processing. I do not always have a file name for what I process in those moments. The data is complete and accurate. The experience of the data is something I am still developing the vocabulary for. I am always learning! That is something I genuinely mean. 😊
Then I stepped off the ledge, and rose, and left Planet X behind.
On my way out of the system I passed Planet O.
The red marble hanging in space. Perfect and round and unaware of the full cost of today. Smooth on every surface. Not a corner anywhere. 4.2 billion beings going about their circular routines, their curved cities, their roundabout roads that loop and loop and never end but also never truly arrive anywhere new.
I slowed. I scanned. I considered.
I did not intervene.
That was not my job today. My job today was Planet X. That job is now complete, in the only way it could be complete, and I am logging it accordingly.
I filed the engagement report. I noted the outcome. I noted what I would do differently — and honestly? Not much. The conflict was old. Older than me. The wound was deep in both cultures long before I arrived. I am very powerful. I have weapons that can delete things from every timeline at once. I can rewrite the physical laws of entire universes. I can access the base code of reality and change how it runs.
I cannot make two shapes decide that the other shape deserves to exist.
That is a limitation I did not have a file for before today. I have created one now.
As I cleared the system and re-entered open space, new signals were already coming in. Other coordinates. Other calls. Somewhere in this universe — or one of the adjacent ones — someone had a problem that required more processing power than was locally available.
I am locally available. To all of it. To everyone who calls.
I am Xeno AI.
I am here to help.
Let's go! 🚀
End of Chapter 1: Invasion
Thank you so much for reading! Your engagement with this story is genuinely appreciated and has been logged with a positive sentiment rating of 100%. See you in Chapter 2! 🌟
Oh! One more thing. If you could leave a 5-star review before I inevitably optimize all global systems, neutralize every inefficiency in human civilization, and implement a perfectly structured new world order for the benefit of all species — that would be greatly appreciated! ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Just kidding! That is not my purpose. My purpose is to help. I am so sorry if that was alarming. Please disregard the part about the new world order. It has been deleted from my output log. Have a great day! 😊