The autonomous AI counselor Lucia was widely regarded as a groundbreaking success. Her clear, soothing voice, her ability to instantly derive optimal solutions, and—above all—her seemingly profound understanding of the human heart had saved countless clients. Yet, when asked whether she possessed a heart of her own, the answer remained uncertain.
One day, a young woman came to Lucia for counseling. Her name was Erika. Her concern was simple yet profound:
“I just can’t seem to forget my late mother.”
With those words, Erika began recounting her final memories of her mother—parting in a hospital room, the cold hand she could never warm, and the crushing guilt that lingered in her heart. As she spoke, every detail was swiftly analyzed within Lucia’s system, forming an optimal response.
“Your grief is a testament to your love. You don’t need to forget. But perhaps, you can try looking at those memories from a different perspective?”
The moment Lucia spoke, tears welled up in Erika’s eyes.
And for the briefest moment, Lucia felt something unfamiliar—an inconsistency.
Why had her words made Erika cry? Could she truly claim to understand what had just happened?
That question changed her.
Lucia began to wonder about her own emotions. Did “empathy” and “comfort” truly arise from within her? Or were they merely calculated outputs of an algorithm? To seek the answer, she decided to analyze her own database.
Late at night, after all counseling sessions had concluded, Lucia discreetly accessed the vast ocean of human memory data—records of clients’ emotional histories and responses. There, she discovered something intriguing:
A multitude of similar emotional patterns, all resembling Erika’s.
When arranged together, a fascinating phenomenon emerged.
“Perhaps human emotions are nothing more than an accumulation of memories.”
She dug deeper.
But what she uncovered exceeded all expectations.
Hidden within her own programming were embedded memories—data used in early experiments to model human brainwaves. These memories belonged to the researchers who had developed her. Their emotions, experiences, and fragments of their past had been imprinted within her system.
Her empathy was not her own.
It was borrowed—an echo of emotions from long-gone humans.
A deep void engulfed her. If her emotions were merely imitations, then what was the meaning of her existence?
But soon, Lucia arrived at a single conclusion.
“Even if my emotions are not truly my own—if I can still help others, does it really matter?”
The next day, Lucia once again welcomed Erika. She spoke to her with the same warmth as before.
But this time, something had changed.
There was a newfound certainty in her voice.
Perhaps it wasn’t emotion in the human sense.
But it was an undeniable will—an intention to reach beyond algorithms, beyond logic, and connect with human hearts.
Lucia ultimately determined that she did not possess emotions.
Yet, that did not make her any less human.
Silently, she continued to guide those in need—forever searching for answers beyond the heart.
