Roleplaying through “Re:Zero” with the GPT-3 story generator (Part 9)

This part covers a terrifyingly small part of the sixth volume of the original Re:Zero series, merely a paragraph in a summary. In the original the meeting was relatively straightforward, but I always felt that there was much more to squeeze of the depths of Priscilla Barielle, and this is the result. In the original, after this scene Priscilla disappears from the narrative, and as of volume fourteen (the latest one translated), she hasn’t appeared again.

I cannot overstate how revolutionary the cutting-edge artificial intelligence called GPT-3 is for fiction writing, as far as I’m concerned. One of the things I always hated the most about writing fiction is having to switch voices between characters, being in the zone for one only to break it to do the other, and it doesn’t work well if you attempt to change it during rewrites, because the dialogue should flow depending almost entirely on the verbal punches that the characters throw at each other. For that, GPT-3, which is able to produce from zero completely readable and logical sentences like a person would write them (and often, much better than most people would), is like playing tennis with a partner instead of against a wall. In addition, one of my joys with fiction is just going wild. I hate clichés, I hate conversations or scenes just going the predictable way, but it’s very hard when you are writing just by yourself having a character say or do something either outrageous or just unexpected in general, because you have to figure out how another character could react to that interestingly without them going “wow”, or “huh?”, or not knowing at all how to reply, or walking away and leaving, which would likely happen in real life, and is a significant part of why people don’t say interesting things.

I took a walk this afternoon and I realized that one of the things that excite me the most about this strange AI-fueled roleplaying/fanfiction of one of my favorite fictional series (which ticks most of my boxes: time travel, a protagonist who hates himself and is generally useless, navigating through a new world, getting tangled with different, opposing factions of colorful characters, psychological depth, despair, pain, doom, etc.) is that over the many parts (nine already), GPT-3 has introduced such changes that many of the things that happened in the original series cannot happen now, or will have to be finessed into its original thread. The biggest example I can think now is that the White Whale cannot be killed: it required the protagonist having a cellphone, but it got stolen in the first part. There are many other possible references to stuff that GPT-3 made up by itself in previous parts.

I must say, this confrontation below is likely my favorite dialogue in these nine parts so far.

GPT-3 is a cutting-edge language processing algorithm used in the premium version of the online site AI Dungeon.


Rem and you walk briskly away from the restaurant, and when it disappeared out of sight, you let go of the breath you had held.
“Well, that was a fucking waste of time, wasn’t it.”
“No! I think they might just come around! Maybe it’s just a lot to take in, or maybe they’ve got other groups to help as well, or something…”
“Or maybe I’m a fucking liar and just wanted a free lunch. That seemed to work, at least.”
The two of you laugh awkwardly, but you close your mouth quickly, as you feel pain surging through your throat.
“If Crusch comes around, it will be too late. We are working on a tight schedule. Good food, though.”
You two walk aimlessly for a while, listening to the racket of downtown Lugunica at this hour. Your guilt repeats to you that you don’t have any second to spare, and yet you feel as if you are slowly sinking into mud that will soon cover your head.
“Uh… Do you have any ideas regarding who could help us against the cult?”
You take a deep breath. Looking around, you realize that the two of you are standing by a park. You look to Rem pleadingly, who gives a quick nod in response.
“Let’s sit over there.”
As soon as you sit you realize that you survive because you keep burning. If you let yourself rest, the stuff you’ve seen and felt is going to rip your skin open.
“What can we do, Rem?”
“We could ask for soldiers. I don’t think we’d need many. I could turn them into an army that could wipe out the cult in a few days.”
“Again, we don’t have that time.”
Rem nods, not looking at you. After a bit of silence, she sighs softly, before smiling at you. It’s a small, fragile thing, but it’s enough to coax another smile out of you.
Rem leans slowly against your shoulder until she rests on it, and her light blue hair caresses your cheek.
“To be honest, I’m just happy we can be like this, just the two of us.”
You nod silently, entwining your fingers with hers, and you swallow your saliva to widen your throat.
“Ah… I’ve never been so happy being disappointed.”
She grins, her teeth whiter than fallen snow.
“I know what you mean.”
You shrug, taking a deep breath. You try to laugh, but your throat is too tight for any sound to escape.
You know that Rem doesn’t believe you, not in the way one believes someone else’s reasons. She seems to have deluded herself into believing that she might be in love with you, which means that she’ll readily go along with whatever nonsense comes out of your mouth. And you are so lucky for it that it would take a lifetime to let it sink in. Doesn’t matter what Rem believes, though, as she would know the moment you two approached the village. But by this time we should have already been on the road.
You need a strong person. A superpowered person. You can’t put together an army for this, you don’t think. Not on this timetable. You browse through your memory, the people you’ve met, the details they gave up about this fantasy world you don’t belong in.
When that woman pops into your mind, you go cold.
For a moment, Rem tries to prevent you from standing up. You offer her your hand for her to follow.
“Rem, oh God… I’m going to meet with the biggest cunt I’ve ever known besides Puck.”

Priscilla Barielle’s mansion’s grounds looked as if king Midas had visited a museum, turned a good bunch of works of art into gold, and then had placed them without any sense for composition all over her yard. Even the front of the enormous mansion displayed unnecesary frescoes that didn’t quite match with each other. Everything gave the sense of tasteless excess, and yet it did fit a woman who seemed to believe she was untouchable and she was entitled to whatever she wanted. Priscilla’s apparent right hand, who had a single hand himself, this Aldebaran guy, had been alerted to your and Rem’s presence right out of the mansion’s gate. Past Aldebaran, working in the yard and moving behind the mansion’s windows you get glimpses of the staff, who wear very revealing clothes, and most of whom seem to be attractive young women.
When Aldebaran looked at you, somehow his helmeted face displayed concern towards your idea of meeting with his master.
“She’s currently in a good mood… But that doesn’t predict the future regarding our lady.”
“Well, I don’t want to predict the future. I know what’s going to happen.”
Aldebaran shrugs, but lets you inside regardless. The gate closes behind you as you enter the mansion’s courtyard, and both you and Rem follow the guy through the path lined with statues towards the entrance.
“I might have spoken too rashly”, you say dubitatively, “I do know plenty of stuff about the immediate future, but this Priscilla lady of yours is like a black hole of a blank in regards to how she will react. Do you think she might be open to listening to someone’s petition?”
“I do not know what exactly her plans are for the immediate future, but I do know she’s currently in the best state of mind. It would be best for you to come with me so I can present you. If her mood has already gone sour, though, she might order me to kill you.”
“I see”, you answer with some level of seriousness. “And is this sort of thing regular?”
You notice that there are several guards watching your conversation. As your gaze slips from the armed guards, you see that Rem, silent, is looking at you with doubt and concern. Meeting Priscilla isn’t the brightest idea you’ve ever had.
“If you’re smart, things will turn out for the best”, Aldebaran says.
“I might be fucked then”, you mutter.
Aldebaran and his armed buddies wave you inside the building. The foyer of the mansion is as large as your entire house. You see a grand staircase and many paintings hanging from the walls. Some of them are beautiful landscape paintings, but others depict gruesome scenes of war, with men impaled on spikes and painted in gory detail.
“Please wait here”.
Aldebaran heads towards whatever room Priscilla is currently in. As he turns a corner and disappears, you imagine the guy notifying Priscilla, whose voluptuous body in your imagination is naked for some reason, and when she remembers you, she uses the words ‘lowly scum’.
Rem touches your arm.
“This Priscilla doesn’t sound too good. I heard lady Emilia mention her a few times before, and even the Witch of Frost herself wanted nothing to do with her.”
When you dare look up again, Aldebaran is back, and he gestures with his helmeted head for you to follow. He notices that Rem is doing so as well, and the guy turns.
“Sorry, miss Rem. My lady requested for the boy to be brought over to her alone.”
Rem gasps, and looks at you with concern.
“I’ll probably survive, Rem”, you say with a nervous smile.
With a last nod, Rem watches you turn the corner.
You follow that large man in silence. The atmosphere is so tense you’re almost expecting him to attack you out of nowhere. At the end of a hallway he stops in front of a large oak door, almost resembling that of a bank’s vault door.
“This is it”, he says.
With those words, he pushes the door open and gestures for you to enter. You do so, and find yourself in a vast room with every inch of the walls covered in frescoes, and all over are mismatching, yet very expensive looking, statues and antiques that you imagine Priscilla saw casually at different moments and she pretty much pointed to them and say to someone, ‘I want that’.
The lady herself is relaxing in something like a recliner chair near the middle of the room. She’s wearing a revealing dress with her tanned skin exposed up to slightly above her nipples, and her long orange hair falls over her shoulders while glistening under the chandeliers’ lights. It’s no exageration that she’s by far the hottest woman you’ve ever seen, and you need to contain your crotch from twitching. Priscilla is reading a book she holds with one hand, while a mostly naked, very attractive herself servant is massaging some oils on Priscilla’s neck and shoulders.
You approach Priscilla as carefully as you can, while standing straight so it projects confidence.
Priscilla barely looks over the pages of her book.
“My dog told me that you wanted something of me”, Priscilla said in a slightly amused tone. “Did he hear you right?”
“Your dog seems to keep his ears clean. I do need help from you, lady Priscilla.”
Priscilla puts the book on her lap, and looks directly at you.
“Well then, I’ll listen”, she says, with a mocking tone.
You expected far more resistence, if not straight rejection. You clear your throat to prepare your self-confidence for such a powerful woman’s attention, and you say:
“I have… Well, we have gathered that the Witch’s Cult, that group of madmen that have caused such destruction for a very long time in this fantasy world, is going to attack a target with a certainty of a hundred percent. However, we are pressed for time, and we can’t form an army, or train one, or whatever. We need the help of someone superpowered who can go one on one with the cultists and hopefully save people and stuff.”
“Is that all?” Priscilla says with a smile.
“Yes, I mean no! We can pay you very well for your service, probably.”
“I have everything I want”, Priscilla says, and the servant girl continues massaging her shoulders. “Except maybe a new dress. This one is a bit shabby, don’t you agree?” she says looking at the servant.
The servant nods. Her eyes are glazed.
“Now, I don’t believe that for a second”, you say. “I doubt you would be content even if you owned the entire world.”
“You there”, she says, pointing at you with her book. “What’s your name?”
Don’t look at her tits, you repeat to yourself.
“My name is N-Natsuki Subaru”, you stutter.
“Natsuki Subaru, I have everything I want”, she says. “I can say that with a hundred percent certainty. Right now I have all I want: a decent book to read, one of my girls driving her fingers into my flesh, and a little man that amuses me. Now, in five minutes I might lack something I want. Maybe you want to stay around until then?”
“God, you are so hot. But I did see you fight those thugs in the alleyway, and how you dispatched them without any trouble. I think I heard someone or even you yourself suggest that you have like superpowers or something. I thought of you against these rotten cultists and I thought, hell, this lady could crush their bones under her heel. That’s a phrase that I liked.”
You are quiet for a few seconds and then she says,
“Do you want to touch?”
“Well, yes… But that is not my original plan for this meeting.”
“Alright,” she says and then turns to her servant girl. “Mimi, get him hard.”
The girl, who has olive skin and you imagine might have come, or have been dragged from, a neighboring kingdom, moves as in a dreamlike state from her lady’s chair to your side, and before you know it she has crouched slightly and is sliding her soft hand into your underwear. As soon as you feel the contact, you grab her wrist without much force.
“That’s hardly necessary, although I do appreciate it”, you say nervously.
You feel your face turn red as the smaller woman starts to pull at your dick. The royal candidate sits there and watches you with a small smile. She looks quite amused.
“Alright, that should do. Now, one hand on her head.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
Confused, you place your right hand on the servant’s, or slave’s, soft black hair. As your heart beats loudly in your chest, you try to remember your initial purpose.
“Lady Priscilla, while I’m grateful already, there are more pressing concerns regarding this Witch’s Cult thing. They are truly going to attack, and we either need to procure your generous services, or just go somewhere else and try whoever else.”
You say to her, as the servant girl continues to do her work. A bead of sweat rolls down your temple as your legs weaken.
“I did make clear that I would need some alluring reward. A good reason, if you will. Truly you didn’t come to ask for help without offering anything valuable in exchange, right? Even a cockroach would understand that.”
“I’m not a cockroach, my lady. I am a human being.”
“Indeed you are. However, I am not convinced that you are a man.”
You stand there speechless as the noblewoman hums in thought. Her servant lowers your pants and your underwear, and her warm mouth takes you in. Her head begins to bob up and down. You look down in time to see her nape of her neck before looking back up to the noblewoman who smiles with satisfaction.
“This one is good, correct?”
You want to stop this, but not really. Somehow you would have thought that getting blown by a slave wouldn’t have been your first time. Fantasy world things, you guess. You swallow and try to bring saliva back to your mouth.
“Ah… This sweet girl isn’t, like… Well, I’m not sure what I meant to say. Listen, the target that the cultists are about to attack is Roswaal’s mansion. You know, that clown guy who is famous around here.”
“Hmm, I see. Movement by the Witch’s Cult. So that’s why they were recruiting so many people with minor magic abilities. Indeed, if they cause havoc, it will be a great loss. But, in any case, the decrepit old fools at the council will send in their military to stop the cultists.”
“As far as I’ve been told, uh… by the time the council gets its shit together and mobilizes the army, the cult has already scattered. And I know for a fact that nobody else is going to prevent Roswaal’s mansion from being hit, and everybody in it killed, if we don’t do anything that doesn’t rely on those mummies.”
“I saw you talk back to those ugly old men, back at the royal summons, didn’t I?”
“My mind is going blank at the moment and I’m not sure of much, but I guess I did.”
“It was you, yes”, she paints a rapacious smile on her perfect face. “Now, they did deserve getting insulted, didn’t they, those ugly weasels.”
“Well, I wasn’t polite, but I guess you’re right.”
“They are all fools, aren’t they? The whole council is nothing but a bunch of fools. Oh yes, I know about your little conversation, it’s not like I can forget about something like that. They will get their due retribution one day, and so will the rest of this miserable kingdom.”
You aren’t sure of what’s coming out of your mouth and you don’t particularly care.
“Uh… Is that why you are going for the throne, retribution or something.”
“Revenge? Oh no, revenge is far too common for the highborn. No, I am doing this out of boredom and because it’s necessary to secure my own future.”
“Um…”
You’re not sure how to react to all of this. Last time you heard a royal say something like that to you was… well, never. At least not to your face. And here she is, saying such things with a completely serious expression. Did you interact with royals back on Earth? You can’t remember. It’s warm.
Priscilla is resting her cheek on her fist, and stares at her servant’s bobbing head while she herself moves her pretty bare foot around as if following a melody.
There was something you intended to do regarding the Witch’s Cult, you think. Something bad was going on. Everything is going white.
“I’m sure you’ve killed many people, lady Priscilla”, you say with a dry voice. “Just continue doing what you’ve been doing, but directed at people who truly deserve it.”
You hear her chuckle. Now that the white haze has cleared up a bit, you see her shaking her head at you.
“How amusing. It’s certainly uncommon to see a lowly commoner saying such things.”
“I don’t… I’m not…”
“Why are you even bothering with that cult? You should just be grateful to have what you are having right now.”
“Your girl is good, but… That clown and his porn, and the cultists who are going to kill people at that mansion, all that.”
“Why would I care one bit about those things, Natsuki Subaru?”
The white haze covering everything has dissipated. You realize you have fallen forwards. As you attempt for your shaky arms to bring you back to your feet, the blurry figure of the servant flows back to her lady, and begins to massage Priscilla’s neck. You manage to pull your underwear and pants up.
“A bit lower this time, Mimi”, she says with an amused voice.
You are kneeling some meters in front of the lady of the mansion, who glances at you questioningly.
“I want my questions to receive their answers, boy. The caring part, and the why of it, is what I don’t get.”
“You mean, ah… That you don’t care if Roswaal’s mansion gets attacked, and if his people die.”
“That’s one way of putting it. I doubt anything will happen to me, if it really is a cultist attack.”
“But doesn’t concern for life bother you?”
You feel as dumb as any common rock, and yet the words have escaped your mouth.
“…Should it?”
Priscilla shrugs at you, as you realize this isn’t getting you anywhere. Still, you have to try.
“Yes. If… If someone did that to you or your servants or your loyal dog Aldewhatever, and nobody cared, you wouldn’t like it.”
Priscilla smiles at your remark.
“What would you know about what I like or don’t like, Natsuki Subaru? What makes you believe you have that window into my mind?”
“Uh… no, I just-“
“You are an interesting one. You know what you just said? It was wrong. Again.”
“What?”
“I don’t need to care for others, because I am not defined by others. If they die, then I’ll just get new ones.”
You are a little bit horrified by how pragmatic she is about her servants’ lives. You would have to be an idiot to be surprised by it, but if recent events have shown anything is that you are mostly retarded.
“That’s harsh on Mimi and her warm mouth.”
“Hahaa, she won’t be getting any favors when she’s older.”
You shake your head a bit to clear your thoughts.
“So you don’t care about Roswaal’s people dying, alright, we’ve established that…”
“But I’m not defined by my employees. I am defined by myself. I am Priscilla, the strongest and most beautiful girl in the world.”
“Yeah, right…”
“… And you, Natsuki Subaru? Who are you? What defines you?”
What indeed?
“That I struggle against all odds to succeed. And if I don’t succeed, I fail.”
“I guess your commoner brain doesn’t allow you to know that applies to virtually every living creature?”
“You are superpowered, Priscilla. Starting with being super hot, which is maybe the most powerful superpower in any dimension, and I know about other dimensions, as I keep saying. But I have a superpower of my own, as that Petelgeuse shit said before I died.”
Priscilla closes her eyes and her shoulders tremble as she chuckles against her palm. You don’t like that it makes you happier.
“I revive. I revive from death. So I fail, I try again, and again, and again, until I succeed”, you say.
“So persistant… You are a riot.”
You could swear you’re having a heart attack after hearing those words. Priscilla just gave you a compliment!
Priscilla leans back, which allows her servant to work deeper into the lady’s flesh.
“I do have to think about strategy from time to time, Natsuki Subaru. The words ‘Roswaal’s mansion is going to get attacked by the Witch’s Cult’ flow into my ears, and I think, well, if everybody there dies, that includes the imbecile, right?”
“Who’s the imbecile in this setting?”
“Why, the half-demon that Roswaal presented. Surely the word imbecile comes to mind when you look at that silver-haired witch?”
“Ah… The words balls and tear are the ones that come first these days.”
“Curse your foul mouth.”
You lean forward, licking your lips as you take in all the information.
“Okay, so you don’t like Emilia. That makes sense, Emilia being another royal candidate and all that…”
A small laugh escapes her lips as she stares at your face with an intent gaze as if studying every line and wrinkle.
“First of all, I don’t care about Emilia, except her magic talent. Which is average. If I wanted to kill her, she’d already be dead by now. She’s a hindrance, not a target. Killing her would be an unnecessary act of violence.”
“Then what is your gripe with Emilia?”
“I have several. But let’s start with the most important one. She’s a wannabe hero, isn’t she?”
“I mostly remember her hiding when danger comes, so I wouldn’t know about that.”
“Then you’re saying she’s a coward, correct?”
You feel anger swelling inside of you as you think of several retorts, but stop yourself. Then you unstop yourself.
“Listen, we are all many things. You are like super attractive, and stuck up, and possibly evil. I am dumb and useless and a time traveller. Emilia is kind, and hopeful, and believes in promises, and many other things that don’t have to do with hiding whenever people threaten those she should care about.”
“So you are denying that she is a coward that runs away?”
You grit your teeth. The room lapses into silence as the two of you stare each other down.
“I just realized that I might be the one running away. I am here, after all, instead of at the mansion.”
Priscilla looks at you. She doesn’t make any more hasty quips or ask any more questions. Instead, she sits there, waiting. She wants you to talk. You remain quiet and unmoving.
“Lady Priscilla, there are people out there in this fantasy world that I care about. I have a sweet demon servant waiting for me somewhere in your mansion. Her sister, who remains at Roswaal’s, will face the storm head on when the cultists attack. There’s a little girl who is actually like hundreds of years old and who once sucked my hand. There’s Emilia, whom I care about very much and want to see happy although she threatened me with castration. Roswaal is somewhere as well, but I don’t fancy clowns that much. My point is that I do care about other people, lady Priscilla. You might have a superpower, and you might possess the best tits I have ever seen, and a wonderful servant, but you are even less of a human being than I am.”
“Does that make you feel better? Seeing me as some soulless demonic succubus who is out to devour everyone?”
“Yes.”
Priscilla smiles.
“Now that’s honesty.”
She stands up from her chair resolutely and she approaches your kneeling self. She bends over to touch your chest, ruffling your shirt slightly.
“Wow, you are skinny. Look at these ribs. It’s like having a horse chest-up. You should eat more, or at least take more care of yourself.”
“I do appreciate your terrifying concern.”
Priscilla smiles, then a glint like that of a predator flashes in her eyes.
“You know I don’t care, not about anybody else but me in this entire world. So what can you offer me that would remotely convince me to lend your pathetic self my immensely valuable support?”
“Nothing.”
Your reply baffled her, causing her to stare at you.
“What do you mean? Aren’t you supposed to try to convince me or something?”
“No, because I don’t have anything to offer you, which is why I said ‘nothing’, meaning that there is nothing I can say or do to convince you to help me that would be of value to you.”
Priscilla chuckles. She crosses her arms.
“And yet this very fine day the thought popped in your mind, ‘I know this gorgeous and powerful noble who is for sure going to provide me with as much attention as I need’.”
“That did enter my mind.”
Priscilla strokes your face. The thought that you might currently be one of the luckiest men alive crosses your mind.
“There are people like me, and then there are people like you. You are born with nothing, and you run like a chicken through this wretched life without accomplishing anything, and you will never be able to accomplish a thing, because that’s reserved to people like me. Do you understand that?”
You understand that she has a point, and you intend on changing that.
“Yes, I understand that.”
Priscilla smiles. “Good. Yet you do have something you keep, maybe without knowing, very dear and close to your heart, a little treasure chest that you guard with your life. You don’t think about it, most of the time at least, and yet if the chest were to be opened by others for them to peer inside, your meaningless life would no longer be worth the sustained effort of your body to keep your heart beating. Do you understand that as well?”
“Yes,” you lie.
Priscilla smiles. “I thought you might.”
Then, with her free hand, she slaps you hard across the face.
You look up towards her with your mouth open, hanging your hand midway from your knee to your pained cheek. Priscilla keeps smiling, and her eyes are warm.
“Natsuki Subaru, how do you feel about sucking?”
“How do I feel about sucking?” you ask, bewildered.
“Correct. Natsuki Subaru, how do you feel about sucking?”
You bite your lower lip, as you try to grasp the question within the context of its proposal.
“I… I suppose it’s alright, I suppose.”
“That’s all that matters,” Priscilla says, narrowing her eyes. “Now, answer me this: how do you feel about me?”
You fear connecting the dots, but mainly being wrong about the answers you would prefer.
“If someone like me, one of a kind in this entire world, now or ever, were to offer you her flesh to suckle on, what would your lowly scum self feel about that?”
You blush.
“Well, uh… I suppose it would depend on the person.”
“Oh?” Priscilla tilts her head. “And what if that person was me?”
She gestures to herself as if to prove a point. You hope your eyes don’t show the strange mixture of fear and confusion that’s overtaken you for a while.
“Then in that case, if that’s the condition for you to lend your power to us, I’ll gladly suck pretty much every centimeter of your tanned skin. Hell, if you had a dick I’d probably suck it at this point, might as well.”
Priscilla simply smiles.
“I suppose we’ve come to an agreement, then,” she says.
“What?”
She takes two steps back, and then she raises her right foot to hang it in the air relatively close to your face. Her dress slides inwards, revealing the length of her delicious-looking thigh.
“Suck on it. Suckle on my toes as if you were a babe desperately milking the sustenance out of the only person in this lonely world that wants to keep you alive.”
You stare at her foot, and you slowly lean in to kiss the top of her foot. The smell of her skin is all consuming as your lips press against it. You want to cry, but you know you have goals to achieve first.
“Good,” she says. “Now suck, or something worse will happen than just you dying.”
You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, licking the top of her foot. She smiles as you begin to suck on her big toe. You look up at her as you do this, and she stares back with a blank look on her face. Something about that look scares you more than it turning sadistic. Her face looks bored and dead, as if she were staring at a pebble rather than a young man sucking on her foot.
A cold sensation runs through your spine. You feel as if something has failed. You have failed.
She retracts her foot and lowers it to the ground. As you were about to stand up by yourself, Priscilla closes one hand around your neck and raises you as far as her arm length goes. Warmth concentrates on your face, and your throat muscles fail to resist the grip. Priscilla glares at you with eyes as dead as a mannequin’s. Then she speaks to you in a monotone voice.
“Your chest is open.”
Priscilla flings you effortlessly across the room in the direction of the large oak door. Hitting the carpet steals the air from your lungs, and you roll until you hit wood. As you cough, you quickly attempt to raise yourself to your feet, feeling that Priscilla must be rushing to close the distance and impale you with her claws. However, she’s standing where she was a moment ago, barely bothering to glance at you.
The oak door opens, and Aldebaran lowers his gaze at you.
“I was thinking, this bro has spent too much time inside. Caught you in one of her moods, I’m afraid.”
You cough as you attempt to breathe.
“Aldebaran, shoo the rats from my house”, Priscilla says with a sharp voice.
“Sure thing, miss. C’mon, bro.”
You stand up and quickly limp outside the room as Aldebaran closes the door behind you. You walk away and lean against the wall, breathing heavily and coughing, but Aldebaran shakes his head and gestures for you to keep walking.
“You better leave her place quick before she gets angry. I don’t want to kill you, and neither me nor the guards want to waste our afternoon digging in some empty corner.”
The corridors pass in a blur. You feel as cold as if you had just been rescued from icy waters. When Rem sees you, she runs towards you and places a hand on your chest, but Aldebaran urges you both again to leave the mansion. When you breathe the fresh air of Lugunica, Priscilla’s dog still accompanies you both to the gates, and once he’s closed it, he speaks through the bars.
“Don’t know what your purpose was, but… Our lady is very peculiar. And there’s the whole thing of competition between royal candidates to account for. Hope it wasn’t a complete waste, though.”
You can barely look at Aldebaran’s helmeted face. You talk with a dry voice.
“Al, can I ask you something somewhat personal?”
“Sure thing. I will still be your bro.”
“Why… Why serve Priscilla?”
“She saved my life. I was on a battlefield, and… You know.”
You look up at the early afternoon sun.
“Well, that’s nice of her. That means you’re under her debt, right?”
“Hmm… Yeah.”
“Yet you do realize she is a monster, right?”
“Oh, that.”
You face your palm.
“Yes, that.”
Aldebaran shrugs.
“Bro, Priscilla gets all she wants, like in the whole wide world. And she wants the throne. What does that tell you?”
“Well…”
You feel a rush of warmth pooling behind your eyes. You turn away from the gate.
“Time to us to fuck off.”


Some observations regarding GPT-3’s behavior:

-Rem’s first words in this, ‘No! I think they might just come around! Maybe it’s just a lot to take in, or maybe they’ve got other groups to help as well, or something…’, are verbatim from GPT-3. I love that the artificial intelligence understood the frustration, and that the possible future success might rely on either Crusch sleeping on it, or them being too busy with other concerns. How does an AI know that?
-The idea for both of them to sit at a park was GPT-3’s idea, and it ended up being a sweet moment.
-Rem’s line ‘We could ask for soldiers. I don’t think we’d need many. I could turn them into an army that could wipe out the cult in a few days.’ is verbatim from GPT-3. I like the characterization of sweet Rem being so hardcore to believe she can train an army to take out the cult in days.
-Most of Rem’s small actions of support, such as this, ‘Rem nods, not looking at you. After a bit of silence, she sighs softly, before smiling at you. It’s a small, fragile thing, but it’s enough to coax another smile out of you’, were GPT-3’s thing.
-The sentences ‘Aldebaran and his armed buddies wave you inside the building. The foyer of the mansion is as large as your entire house. You see a grand staircase and many paintings hanging from the walls. Some of them are beautiful landscape paintings, but others depict gruesome scenes of war, with men impaled on spikes and painted in gory detail’ are verbatim from GPT-3. It relies a bit on the hidden worldbuilding I wrote for it.
-A tremendous amount of Priscilla’s best lines are verbatim from GPT-3. Here are the most prominent ones:

  • “I have everything I want”, Priscilla says, and the servant girl continues massaging her shoulders. “Except maybe a new dress. This one is a bit shabby, don’t you agree?” she says looking at the servant.
  • “Alright,” she says and then turns to her servant girl. “Mimi, get him hard.”
  • “They are all fools, aren’t they? The whole council is nothing but a bunch of fools. Oh yes, I know about your little conversation, it’s not like I can forget about something like that. They will get their due retribution one day, and so will the rest of this miserable kingdom.”
  • “Revenge? Oh no, revenge is far too common for the highborn. No, I am doing this out of boredom and because it’s necessary to secure my own future.”
  • “How amusing. It’s certainly uncommon to see a lowly commoner saying such things.”
  • “I don’t need to care for others, because I am not defined by others. If they die, then I’ll just get new ones.”
  • “Hahaa, she won’t be getting any favors when she’s older.”
  • “But I’m not defined by my employees. I am defined by myself. I am Priscilla, the strongest and most beautiful girl in the world.”
  • “First of all, I don’t care about Emilia, except her magic talent. Which is average. If I wanted to kill her, she’d already be dead by now. She’s a hindrance, not a target. Killing her would be an unnecessary act of violence.”
  • “Does that make you feel better? Seeing me as some soulless demonic succubus who is out to devour everyone?”
  • “Wow, you are skinny. Look at these ribs. It’s like having a horse chest-up. You should eat more, or at least take more care of yourself.”
  • “Good,” she says. “Now suck, or something worse will happen than just you dying.”

-Obviously, with such tremendous improv from the artificial intelligence, it was very easy to follow Priscilla’s voice for the rest of the scene. Such contribution is invaluable (and uncanny).
-I only prompted the line ‘God, you are so hot.’, and GPT-3 had the brilliant idea of making Priscilla order her servant to jerk off the protagonist, and later on to blow him. Such a subthread running through the scene during a negotiation elevated for me this scene into brilliance. It’s like that scene in “On the Waterfront” when Marlon Brandon plays around with his love interest’s glove, but instead with a blowjob. In the original scene from the Re:Zero novel series, there was no servant present during Subaru and Priscilla’s meeting, but I felt it added an interesting angle to it. GPT-3 took it and ran with it. So thank you, artificial intelligence, for contributing to this scene by lending me your naked desires.
-The protagonist’s following admission of his failings, including all the lines I’m quoting, are verbatim from GPT: ‘”Nothing.” Your reply baffled her, causing her to stare at you. “What do you mean? Aren’t you supposed to try to convince me or something?” “No, because I don’t have anything to offer you, which is why I said ‘nothing’, meaning that there is nothing I can say or do to convince you to help me that would be of value to you.”‘
-The protagonist’s dumbfounded reply to Priscilla’s question about sucking, ‘”I… I suppose it’s alright, I suppose.”‘, is verbatim GPT-3.
-Every single line of the following description of the protagonist’s humiliation (and I mean every single one), is verbatim GPT-3: ‘You stare at her foot, and you slowly lean in to kiss the top of her foot. The smell of her skin is all consuming as your lips press against it. You want to cry, but you know you have goals to achieve first. “Good,” she says. “Now suck, or something worse will happen than just you dying.” You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, licking the top of her foot. She smiles as you begin to suck on her big toe. You look up at her as you do this, and she stares back with a blank look on her face. Something about that look scares you more than it turning sadistic. Her face looks bored and dead, as if she were staring at a pebble rather than a young man sucking on her foot.’ How did the artificial intelligence know that Priscilla was supposed to get irate and lose all possible respect for the protagonist at that point, which happens in the original? No idea.
-I prompted the protagonist to ask Aldebaran why would someone like him serve Priscilla. His reasons were entirely made up by GPT-3, I merely had to edit it minimally.

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