Jacob sat at his computer with his head in his hands. A simple 16-bit smiley face and a small text box took up one of his three monitors, and a jumbled mess of code and models took up the other two. He sighed and looked back up at the face, which kept up its blank smile despite his expression.

[color=3aa5bd]"No, I need you to respond with your own words, not the ones I give you."[/color]

The machine didn't respond. It wasn't programmed to receive and process audio, let alone human speech. He was merely voicing his frustration. The task of coming up with an AI model that created its own messages instead of premade and predetermined responses. It was easy to make something that [i]seemed[/i] like genuine AI, but making the real deal was an entirely different can of worms. 

After sitting at his computer for a few more minutes, Jacob looked at his desk, which had barely enough room for his setup amid the various machine parts and wires that were strewn across it from his other projects. On top of everything was his phone, which had a picture of a flyer on it. It had to do with that cafe that closed not that long ago. Well, "disappeared" was a more accurate term for what had happened to it. He missed the place, even if there might have been some strange happenings there from time to time. 

He looked over at the clock mounted on the wall beside his desk. He had to squint to see the time in the darkness of his room, lit only by the monitors in front of him. 6:00, it read. Jacob figured he probably had enough time to get ready and walk to the library if he hurried. He made sure to save his work before he shut his computer off. [i][color=3aa5bd]I doubt it matters anyway,[/color][/i] he thought bitterly as he turned the machine off, plunging his room into darkness.

Jacob turned on the lights, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. He opened his closet and pulled a hoodie off of the floor and made sure it didn't smell too awful before he put it on. He needed to do his laundry soon. He'd been putting it off for a while. Then, he trudged out of his room, not bothering to turn off the light, and into the kitchen. He opened the old-looking fridge, the light flickering annoyingly as he peered inside. Jacob grabbed a protein shake and closed the fridge. [color=3aa5bd]"Breakfast of champions,"[/color] he muttered to himself in the darkness.

He walked out the door of his apartment, locking the door behind him. Jacob didn't care much about himself, but he didn't know what he would do with himself if anything of value was stolen from his apartment. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of neglect and old cigarettes, which seemed to permeate the hallways no matter how much air freshener Jacob and his neighbors sprayed outside their doors. He opened his drink as he walked down the hallway, pulling a face at its sub-par flavor. Vanilla was never one of his favorites, but it was all he had. He couldn't go outside on an empty stomach.

Jacob walked down the stairs and out the main door, which slammed on his way out. He was grateful that he didn't have to talk to any of his neighbors today. That would take time and energy, neither of which he had much of right now. As he walked down the sidewalk, Jacob could hear faint whispers emanating from the people he passed. They weren't talking, but their minds were. Jacob made no effort to listen to them, and actively tried to ignore their voices. It was one of the weird side effects that he supposed Grace's might have had on him. He wanted to believe that it wasn't, but something in the back of his mind told him otherwise.

He pulled his hood up, trying to protect himself somewhat from the rain as he walked, looking at the library in the distance. It seemed miles away with the windy, rainy weather, but he knew it was only a few blocks at the very most. Jacob bent forward, shielding his face from the cold rain as much as he could. 

[color=3aa5bd]"Couldn't they have picked a better day for this?"[/color] he said, feeling a mild sense of annoyance toward whoever made those flyers. 

As he approached the library, Jacob felt a knot forming in his stomach. What if it was all a trick? What if this is just some ploy from some super-powerful government group that made Grace's Grotto disappear? He shook his head. That kind of thinking was for conspiracy theorists and crazy people. Jacob knew he wasn't a conspiracy theorist, and he was pretty sure he wasn't crazy.

[i][color=3aa5bd]I think.[/color][/i]

He walked into the library, checking his phone for the time. It was 6:30, Jacob was ahead of schedule for once. He walked through the shelves, examining books about computers and coding before walking over to the fantasy section. He looked around for another minute or so, then he walked to the study rooms. Jacob saw someone inside Room C, who he assumed was the person who put up the flyers. He figured that they wouldn't mind if he did a little eavesdropping on their thoughts, only to find out their intentions, of course. He doubted they'd notice.

Jacob knocked on the door softly before opening it, peering inside at the stranger. He pulled down his hood so they could get a better look at him, peeling it off of his soaked hair. His bright blue eyes seemed to glow faintly in the dim light, although it could just be a trick of Cian's imagination.

[color=3aa5bd]"You're... the person who set up the flyers, right?"[/color]