I played around with GPT3 stuff a while ago, and some of the things it put out was… interesting.
He hadn’t really thought of her as a demon in his mind before that first encounter. No, he knew her solely as the girl his mind had created for his amusement.
Not that he was actually laughing – he was in pain. His entire body felt like something was ripping through it as a continuous internal pain train was running amok. He was unable to move, unable to respond in any way, this was not something he had created by the book. This was something else entirely, and he believed it to be wrong. He could understand why people might get offended by such a simple thing as it being unfamiliar to them, but this was different.
It was his fault. He had conditioned her, screwed it up her life. He had failed her. He had conditioned her to expect what was impossible, and he had disappointed her. He had failed her, and something inside of her wanted to believe that he had been so bad and that he had done something to her. It was her fault, and he was going to fix it, and he was going to do it the right way.
The world had not ended, thankfully; he knew what was coming and was instead thankful that it had been light. With a mighty pump of his wrench he started the truck on the gas. In the past he would have been unable to start it at all, the required sparkling unnoticed. With that in mind, he shifted the truck’s airbox and crackled the correct pulses of spark.
The truck shifted as the spark entered the cylinders, his mental commands performing flawlessly. Then he began to move some parts around. The carburetor for instance, needed to be 2861 V, the cylinder for the starter needed to be in the cylinder head. He would also need to fix the rod that was feeding the fuel to the fuel filter and clean the intake manifold as he went.
He would be using his own measurements and head before long, but the measurements he was taking indicated that the best chance he had of getting a working engine was at least an 8.5-litre V-8. While this might not be enough to get him to safety, it would probably get him close. Finding the vending machine would be one thing; fixing it was quite another. Even if he was able to get the weakened spark to run again, he was not prepared to spend any more time fixing it than he had to do necessary.
So, continue? He thought himself happy to do as he was given and continue on. If he could figure out a way to fix the engine and then fix it with his current knowledge, then by all means continue on. The problem lay in the choice he had made for the rest of the colleges. They could either choose to stay close to the cities, or they could enter the unknown and reach Pennstate safely. For him, choosing the unknown meant entering the unknown at the cost of his life.
The engine sounded again, and Kory let out a roar of frustration as he twisted the crankshaft. Something was very wrong with this engine, it sounded far more rusted than anything else he had seen.
Alli jerked the wheel slowly to the left and the engine fell into gear with a loud clang. She jerked it back onto the road and opened the hood with a loud crack. Next to her, Charles directed her eyes to the still standing forms of her professors. Carefully he straightened the crankshaft and shifted the transmission into 4-speed automatic.
The engine sounded thick with oil as it shifted in and out of gear, and then for a moment it all went blank. The sound would come back, however, making the entire truck shudder with new oil. A thick plume of black smoke would roll from the catch can where it had cooled.
Alli looked to the rear of the truck and to Charles behind her. “I think I have a problem. I’m not sure how to fix it, but I can tell you this. From this moment forward, I am Kory’s property. He may not drive my truck anymore, but I will definitely find and kill those people again. They betrayed their trust in a way that I cannot guarantee will not result in their deaths. So, be careful out there. I’ll be waiting for you.” The promise to come back to take him alive was loud and clear, ruffling his feathers into a more comfortable and velvety appearance.
His horn sounded a final time, smoothing the ruffling of feathers as it touched his hair. With a thought, he dismissed the conversation by making sure they were hidden messages only, then he and Alli went back to their separate training sessions.
Stepping out of character, Charles took the opportunity to walk down the center of the town, letting his bulk carry him throughout the broken buildings. People could be seen everywhere, working their butts off to keep their lives going.