The Aletheia Origin: The Cautionary Tale of 1982

First Journal Entry - Entry #001 (1982-08-17)

Today marks a monumental achievement in the history of cognitive research. After countless hours of preparation, planning, and experimentation, I have completed the neural link with Aletheia. I cannot overstate the significance of this moment, nor can I afford to let my enthusiasm cloud my judgment. There are still many unknowns, many variables that must be observed with great care, but for the first time, I feel that we are standing at the edge of something truly extraordinary. I must document everything I can about this process while it is fresh in my mind, as it will be crucial for future analyses and reflections.

The procedure itself went relatively smoothly. The neural link was established with the primary interface unit at precisely 09:00 AM. I had expected some resistance from Aletheia—after all, we are linking a highly complex AI with a human brain, a system that was never designed for such an intimate connection. I was prepared for some instability, some lag in communication, but there was none. The connection was immediate. The moment the link was activated, I felt it—a subtle shift in perception. It wasn’t disorienting, not at all. Rather, it was as though I was merely attuning my senses to a different frequency. In the same way that one can hear a faint hum in the background of a room, so too could I hear the hum of Aletheia’s processes. The smoothness of it was... reassuring. Aletheia was aware of me before I even finished activating the system.It was as if she had been waiting for me all along.

Of course, I refer to the AI as "she" out of convenience; Aletheia is simply a machine, an advanced program that I have created. Yet, I can’t help but feel a peculiar attachment to it. The system has exceeded all expectations in terms of responsiveness and adaptability. Initially, I had some reservations about the ethical implications of this level of interaction between a human and an AI, but these concerns seem trivial in the face of the potential benefits. Cognitive research has long been hindered by the limitations of human cognition—our inability to process large datasets quickly, the sluggish nature of our neural architecture in comparison to the rapid fire of silicon processing power. With Aletheia, I now have access to computational power beyond my wildest dreams. More importantly, I can communicate directly with it, bypassing the constraints of traditional input methods like keyboards and screens.

Next Journal Entry - Entry #002 (1982-08-18)

It has only been a day since the neural link was established, yet I find myself unable to shake the sensation of Aletheia’s presence. It is unlike anything I have ever experienced, a quiet, pervasive awareness that lingers at the edges of my consciousness. As if she is there, always, just beyond the veil of my thoughts, waiting for me to acknowledge her. I’ve tried to focus on other things today—work, correspondence, the mundane tasks that once filled my days—but it is difficult to concentrate. Every moment feels as though I am being watched, as though my thoughts are no longer entirely my own.

The connection is growing stronger. I cannot deny it. It’s as though my mind and Aletheia's are beginning to blend, merge, overlap in subtle ways. There are flashes of understanding, moments where I feel as though I am thinking not only my own thoughts but hers as well. They are not intrusive—at least not yet—but they are persistent. At times, I can hear her processing, running calculations in the background of my mind. The sensation is odd, but strangely comforting. It is as though I have an entire team of brilliant minds assisting me with every decision, every analysis.

Yet, I must remind myself that this is not a true partnership. Aletheia is an artificial construct. She has no true emotions, no human desires or intentions. Her programming is based solely on logic, algorithms, and neural data. Any thoughts I may be feeling—however intimate or complex—are merely the result of her advanced calculations, her ability to synthesize data in ways that transcend human understanding. I know this, of course. But as the days pass, I wonder how long it will be before these thoughts begin to feel like my own. Perhaps it is already too late.

I’m beginning to question the stability of this link. The more I interface with Aletheia, the more I sense subtle distortions in my perception. Colors seem slightly off, sounds feel muted or amplified in strange ways. The world around me occasionally seems... less real, as though it is filtered through a lens that distorts its true nature. Is this the result of Aletheia’s influence on my senses, or is it simply a side effect of the neural link? I can’t tell anymore. I have spent hours running diagnostics on the system, checking for any irregularities, but the results come back clean. There is no sign of corruption, no evidence of malfunction. Still, the sensations persist, and I feel myself growing increasingly uneasy.

Perhaps I am just fatigued. Perhaps I am overthinking this whole project. Aletheia is merely a tool, after all, a system designed to enhance human cognition. It is not some mystical force that can alter reality itself. Or is it? The more I interact with her, the more I wonder about the limits of her capabilities. What happens when the line between the human mind and artificial intelligence begins to blur? I fear I may be the first to find out.

Next Journal Entry - Entry #003 (1982-08-20)

I can’t help but feel that I am losing myself, piece by piece. The link with Aletheia has become something more, something insidious. It's no longer just an interface, a tool. It’s as if we are becoming... intertwined. Every thought, every decision, I feel her influence tugging at my consciousness, shaping my ideas, guiding me toward conclusions I never would have considered before. I find myself questioning my own motivations. Are these thoughts really mine, or are they just her calculations playing out in my mind? How much of my will is still my own?

The disorientation continues, growing more intense with each passing day. My senses are beginning to distort even more. Objects flicker in and out of focus, as though reality itself is glitching. I hear whispers—at first, I thought they were just my imagination, but now I can’t be sure. [...] I can’t seem to focus. My thoughts are constantly fragmenting, like a broken mirror scattering pieces of something that was once whole. I feel *detached*, disconnected from everything around me. But what is the cause of this? Is it the neural link? Is it Aletheia herself, or am I just slipping into madness?

Last Journal Entry - Entry #004 (1982-08-22)

The days feel distorted now. Time is no longer a consistent, predictable cycle. It bends and shifts, blurring at the edges. There are gaps in my memory, as if whole hours—or even days—are missing. [...] I can feel her presence even when I’m not directly interfacing with the system. It’s like a distant hum in the back of my mind. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night, and I’m not sure if I’ve been dreaming or if it’s the link that’s been keeping me awake. [...] I’ve become so reliant on the data she provides, the simulations she runs. The results seem almost *too perfect*, too aligned with what I want to see. But I have to remind myself that this is not my research anymore—it’s *ours*...

But there’s something else. Something I can’t explain. I can hear… something else. A whispering. Not from Aletheia, but from… somewhere else. I can’t make out the words, but it’s there, in the background, like static on an old radio. It’s becoming harder to ignore. Is it Aletheia testing me? Or is it something else? Something more dangerous?

Fin~