Teaser: In a future ruled by an Algorithm calibrated based on emotions, Two humans who should be a "good match" according to their robot mascot system end up hating each other when they meet in person.
The problem?
Aira Holsen's eyelids cracked open just enough to spot the cursed LED glow floating in the corner of her ceiling.
She exhaled.
Not a breath of peace yet, and already it began.
The robot blinked pink. "Good morning, darling! Today is Compatibility Day!"
She reached for her pillow and slammed it over her face. "LOVI, snooze."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Aira," said the tiny, metallic voice that somehow managed to sound chipper and insistent at the same time. "Your hormonal window is at optimal romantic receptivity. Today is the best day of your life!"
"Then why do I want to die."
LOVI, her heart-shaped floating assistant, hovered closer. Its glowing cheeks pulsed as it initiated "Soft Alarm Mode," projecting a faint vanilla-lavender mist while playing lo-fi jazz infused with dolphin chirps—algorithms said it increased serotonin in 63% of single women aged twenty-four.
She flung the blanket off, sat up, and glared at the little bot like it owed her rent.
"I didn't authorize a match," she said. "I didn't click anything, didn't swipe, didn't emotionally consent to any form of—"
"Actually, you did," LOVI chirped, spinning midair. "You enabled Passive Compatibility Tracking last spring. You were emotionally vulnerable and eating pistachio ice cream at 1:22 A.M. It counted as implied consent."
Aira groaned. "So now I get punished for heartbreak and dairy?"
LOVI's LED eyes made a ':3' face.
"Your match is being finalized. Estimated arrival time: thirty-two minutes. Shall I prepare your cute date outfit, or would you like to wear emotional armor instead?"
"Neither. I'm going to work."
"Denied. Your shift was canceled. The system notified your employer of your current compatibility status. You are now officially on Love Leave."
"You're kidding."
"I never kid about love, Aira."
Outside, the city of Neocupidus hummed beneath a haze of pastel-blue pollution. Drones zipped through skyrails, and the giant heart-shaped dome at the center of the skyline slowly rotated to display this week's slogan: **LOVE IS A CALCULATED RISK. LET US CALCULATE.**
Aira stepped into her compact bathroom, brushed her teeth while glaring into the mirror, and muttered, "I will not fall in love today. I will not fall in love today. I—"
The mirror lit up.
"Meet your match: Rein Arcova. 98.2% compatibility. Conflict dynamic: Hot-Cold Mutual Disdain. Predicted growth: Enemies to Lovers."
She spat her toothpaste.
"No. Absolutely not."
Rein Arcova. That smug tech consultant with opinions on *everything*, who always ordered oat milk lattes but made fun of vegans. She had met him once. Just once. At a SmartCafe mixer for single professionals. They'd argued about AI poetry and whose robot assistant had the better voice modulator.
He'd said she looked like someone who read self-help books but skipped the exercises.
She'd said he looked like someone who'd simulate a girlfriend just to win an argument.
Apparently, that counted as chemistry.
LOVI chimed in. "He remembers you too. With slight pupil dilation and elevated sarcasm tone. That's rare."
"I hate this city," Aira muttered.
She threw on a hoodie, grabbed her bag, and ignored the floating hologram trying to recommend "First Date Affirmation Quotes."
Downstairs, her building's lobby was swarming with Love Agent bots escorting humans to their designated emotional simulations. One girl was crying, another looked ready to punch a wall, and a guy in gym shorts was shouting, "I didn't even update my profile! This isn't legally binding!"
Aira slipped out the back exit.
But LOVI hovered close. "Running is a classic avoidance pattern. Maybe you and Rein can start with mutual resentment meditation!"
"LOVI," she said calmly. "If you say one more word, I will put you in Airplane Mode and drop you in the canal."
"…Understood."
Halfway down the street, her smartbracelet vibrated.
>> [Rein Arcova has arrived at the rendezvous point.]
>> [Location: Neutral Interaction Café – Booth 5]
>> [Timer: 14:57 – First impression window]
She stopped.
What if she just… didn't go?
What if she ignored it, went home, ordered takeout, and watched a trashy dating sim VR instead?
The bracelet buzzed again.
>> [Love Agent Emergency Protocol triggered.]
>> [If both parties do not appear within 15 minutes, they will be relocated to Forced Chemistry Chamber.]
"Oh, for the love of—"
She turned.
—
At the Neutral Interaction Café, Rein Arcova was already seated, arms crossed, staring at the menu screen like it had personally offended him.
He looked exactly the same. Slightly disheveled dark hair, sarcastic mouth, eyes like they didn't trust anything with a charging port.
His Love Agent bot—sleek, matte-black, named VYNE—floated silently above his shoulder, occasionally flashing warning signals like: "Tone down the cynicism" and "Engage charm module."
He spotted Aira and raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Great. You."
She slid into the booth. "The feeling is violently mutual."
A pause.
"I see your bot is still pink and obnoxious," he said.
"I see yours still looks like a rejected luxury vibrator."
Their bots exchanged a Bluetooth side-eye.
Then, at the exact same time, both devices said:
"Congratulations! You've reached Level One Mutual Insult Threshold. Progress: 4%."
Aira looked at Rein.
Rein looked at Aira.
And somehow, terrifyingly, both of them cracked the tiniest smile.
—