Pulse G4R8X1 · April 5, 2024 · 7 min
Math, a compass, and other ways to make your brain hurt.
As GRACE quietly becomes part of everyday life, the line between observation and judgment begins to disappear.
The past few weeks, Mary had slowly become accustomed to a world with GRACE. A new layer draped over society—except for those who had never enrolled.
Them. Theresa. And eventually Angel.
For them, GRACE had stopped being a choice.
Mary woke in silence, though not in peace. Pale blue morning light seeped through the curtains, sharp and hazy at the same time. She lay on her side, the duvet half slipped from her body, still heavy from sleep.
Her eyes opened.
GRACE was already there.
There was no startup. No welcome screen.
Only the immediate realization that GRACE had never gone to sleep.
Mary V. – 500
The number hovered, crisp and bright, in the upper-right corner of her vision.
She turned her head.
The number moved with her.
Always lingering just outside the center of her focus, quietly anchored to the edge of her awareness.
She remained still, letting her eyes drift across the room.
Nothing had changed over the past few days.
GRACE didn't seem to notice her—or perhaps it simply didn't care.
Only the same information.
Her first name.
That cold, impersonal V.
And the number.
After the installation the system was still far from smooth. Whenever she turned her head too quickly, the number lagged behind by a fraction of a second, as though the interface was constantly struggling to catch up with her eyes.
She had expected something entirely different.
GRACE was supposed to recognize her. Display her profile. Help her. Something resembling a social network filled with posts, likes and reactions.
At the very least… some acknowledgement.
Instead, the system ignored her completely.
Only the number remained.
And what did 500 even mean?
Was there anything behind it?
Why was there no explanation?
The questions kept circling through her mind.
Theresa and Angel saw exactly the same thing.
500.
They had talked about it.
The forums offered nothing.
A handful of posts asking questions even seemed to disappear after moderators removed them.
Mary had tried everything she could think of to trigger the system.
Unusual behavior.
Silence.
Thinking questions out loud.
Nothing.
No response.
No feedback.
Slowly an uncomfortable thought crept into her mind.
Maybe I simply don't matter to GRACE.
And what exactly could the system see?
She noticed herself becoming strangely modest, even inside the privacy of her own bathroom.
What if I'm standing in the shower?
Can GRACE see me?
Can it watch through my eyes?
Am I even allowed to talk to a boy anymore?
Or date one?
Yesterday, on the tram, she deliberately watched an elderly man struggle to get off.
She felt guilty.
But she intentionally chose not to help.
Still...
No response from GRACE.
Nothing.
GRACE watched everything.
Yet somehow...
It never saw her.
Whenever she walked through the city she constantly looked around, nervous, aware, almost expecting something to happen.
Her life felt like an emptiness that kept expanding.
Slowly.
Relentlessly.
She had opened herself to something that never looked back.
Thankfully the interface itself seemed to improve.
Small updates arrived continuously.
Or perhaps she was wrong.
Maybe GRACE wasn't becoming smoother.
Maybe she was simply adapting.
She had already noticed it during the first few days.
Moving her head more slowly made the interface glide naturally.
She still hadn't decided whether she was beginning to understand the system...
Or simply stopping herself from resisting it.
Despite her doubts, GRACE never felt intrusive.
It felt elegant.
Almost...
Natural.
Her vision genuinely seemed to contain another layer now.
One that always knew exactly where it belonged.
Without delay.
Yet something else had begun changing.
During the first days, GRACE reminded her of getting a tattoo you instantly regret.
Now...
Thinking about it sent a faint tingling sensation through her body.
The feeling was strangely dual.
Was she simply an early adopter?
Or was she herself becoming a prototype for something that still functioned imperfectly in everyone else?
Without warning, a new notification suddenly appeared.
[SOCIAL CALIBRATION ACTIVE]
The message floated sharply across her vision.
The same cold lettering as always.
Once again there was no explanation.
When it disappeared, nothing else had changed.
Her muscles protested slightly as she stretched.
Yet something inside her mind felt sharper than before.
After several days she no longer found GRACE strange.
Unlike Angel, who seemed determined to distance herself from it in every possible way.
For Mary, it was obvious.
She was becoming part of something destined to change the world.
Terrifying.
Yet also...
Magnificent.
For Angel, everything changed the moment Social Calibration went live.
She watched people around her transform at an alarming pace.
Mary.
Theresa.
Longer eye contact.
Softer greetings.
Higher scores.
Exactly what they had hoped GRACE would become.
Another social platform.
Another Facebook.
Another TikTok.
Dopamine rewards handed out by an algorithm.
Nothing is ever free when an algorithm decides your value.
Had nobody learned anything from everything social media had already done?
She decided not to argue anymore.
She didn't know how to explain it.
Instead she lied.
She claimed she had installed GRACE too.
Nearly every conversation revolved around it.
She escaped them with jokes whenever she could.
Instead she buried herself in creativity.
But one conviction never left her.
That thing had to come out of her head.
Whether imagined or not, it felt like a nest of wasps buzzing inside her skull.
Concentrating during class had become impossible.
During mathematics she finally reached her limit.
Her fingernails weren't enough.
The compass became the next option.
She was escorted out of class holding a blood-soaked handkerchief.
"Removal is not supported."
Mary watched Angel leave.
Then she looked around the classroom.
Something had changed.
During the first days there had only been empty spaces.
But gradually...
Almost invisibly...
Scores began appearing above people's heads.
One.
Two.
Then dozens.
Like an oil spill spreading across the surface.
Invisible.
Unstoppable.
Students.
Nothing about them had changed.
Only the way they were being seen.
But it was GRACE that decided what deserved to be visible.
The teachers remained gray.
Old.
Invisible.
No access.
No profile.
With one exception.
The English teacher.
Twenty-four years old.
Popular among the male students.
She had a score.
People whispered about it in hallways and between lecture rows.
Mary looked.
Jane H. – 457
Only briefly.
Secretly.
But when she lowered her eyes again, she caught something.
The teacher looked back.
No smile.
No nod.
Only an empty glance.
Mary immediately looked away.
Warmth spread across her neck.
She felt caught.
As though she had done something wrong.
As though simply looking had already crossed a line.
Perhaps that was the greatest change of all.
Not what you did.
But what you hoped someone else would see.
Not to be liked.
Mary had never needed approval.
But to exist inside the system.
To be acknowledged.
To become recorded.
She never spoke those thoughts aloud.
Not like the old days, when likes and comments were visible.
This was different.
Quiet.
Uneasily quiet.
No thumbs-up.
No heart.
Only the knowledge that somewhere...
Someone.
Something.
Could think about you.
And that a single thought was enough.
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