5Aria and I stepped into the expanse of the well-lit white hallway, the whiteness lending a sense of openness to the area. Our separation from Lily and Lia ushered in a different atmosphere—a sense of tranquillity and focus that was characteristic of the task ahead.This time, our destination was the cafeteria, situated at the far end of the building, adjacent to the library—a course that we had not traversed until now.As we made our way along the hallway, I noticed Aria pause abruptly before a translucent barrier, her expression one of perplexity. "Huh?" she voiced her confusion aloud, causing me to slow down and inquire, "What's the matter?"Her sapphire eyes remained fixed on a point beyond the hallway. She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her words tinged with uncertainty. "I thought I heard a voice coming from down that hallway."I offered a reassuring response, "It could just be your imagination. Remember, this is a restricted area, accessible only to adults."The domain of the adults—the building was divided into two sections, one reserved for the children and the other for the grown-ups. While the hallway appeared unobstructed, there was, in fact, a translucent barrier akin to the one in the cloud garden. However, instead of serving as a portal, it functioned more like a partition, isolating us from the adult quarters."Uh," she mumbled, her doubt momentarily quelled. Unable to determine the source of the odd sound, she decided to disregard it.—Upon entering the cafeteria, I reached out and took her hand in mine, offering a reassuring squeeze. "Don't let it bother you. Come on, let's go."The cafeteria unveiled itself before us—a vast expanse bathed in brilliant white light, its floor crafted from pristine white marble. Positioned at the center was a finely crafted white table, and along the periphery stood low seats, evoking the ambience of a school's cafeteria.On one side of the room, a compact rectangular cabinet held neatly arranged utensils, extending halfway up both walls.We gravitated toward the cabinet's hollow space on the right wall, where a diminutive blue screen was mounted. This was the cafeteria's AI—a voice-activated entity that could process orders upon receiving voice or touch input. Or in other words, CAINThe CAIN, however, adhered to a health-conscious algorithm, which determined the fare it would produce."How do we retrieve ingredients from the cafeteria AI?" Aria inquired, her curiosity piqued.I began explaining, "The AI typically generates nutrient-rich food bars and fruits, but it won't dispense raw ingredients. However, there's a workaround I discovered after tinkering with it for a while. If you input the components of a specific dish, it will produce the ingredients. But I don't think we'll need to do that anymore…"My statement was poised to conclude, but Aria's response caught me off-guard. She voiced a thoughtful "Uh," her tone a literal question mark that seemed to hang in the air. It felt as though I were conversing with myself.I continued, elaborating on the analogy, "It's a bit like requesting a book by its title. Normally, the AI will give you a random book with that title. However, if you provide specific details, it will yield the exact book you desire."Her eyes brightened, and she exclaimed, "Ooh," her blue irises aglow with newfound understanding.With newfound clarity, I placed my right hand on the blue screen to place our order. The screen flickered to life, and a menu materialized."Welcome, number 101," a mellifluous voice greeted us—a harmonious blend of human and robotic tones. "Here is a selection of recommended dishes for you today."The menu appeared in blue font, displayed against the white screen—<Saccharide food bars and dairy milk><Nutty bars and vegs mix>As anticipated, the offerings included food bars, fruits, and drinks. Yet, the AI's capabilities extended far beyond this list—it was capable of fulfilling a diverse range of ingredient requests.Turning my attention back to the book in my left hand, I quickly scanned the required components. "Please, place your order," the cafeteria AI prompted.Drawing upon a workaround, I softly issued a voice command, "Authorize Backdoor."In response, the screen began to glitch, a cascade of black boxes overtaking the white light until the entire display was swallowed by darkness. A maelstrom of white text surged forth, expanding to fill the screen, giving rise to a symphony of abstract patterns.Engaging a series of commands, I generated a data array that coalesced into a clear list:Produce:<Wheat flour><Butter><Egg><Egg whites><Sugar><Baking soda><Vanilla><Vanilla essence>"Order confirmed. Please wait as your request is processed," the AI intoned.As confirmation rippled through the air, a soft fwoosh sound reached our ears, accompanied by a flash of blue light intertwined with mist-like white tendrils. A subtle blue radiance filled the room as the AI presented us with the ingredients it had prepared, materializing them from the hollow wall."Alright, let's proceed," I suggested. Gathering the ingredients, we reached for the implements on the opposite side.Together, Aria and I carried the essentials back into the hallway, our steps imbued with a sense of purpose as we embarked on the next phase of our culinary venture.—The mellifluous sound of the midday bell resonated through the building, its harmonious rhythm permeating the hallways and floors. Ding-dong-ding—dong-ding-dong. The lunchtime announcement echoed, a symphony of chimes that marked the transition into the afternoon mealtime.With the musical cadence of the bell lingering in the air, Aria and I found ourselves journeying along the hallway, the white plastic bags in our hands carrying an assortment of ingredients—our culinary treasures for the day's endeavours."Aria, its lunchtime," I observed, turning toward Aria, who had been unusually quiet. Aria's response came in the form of a resounding rumble from her stomach, which she acknowledged with a flushed face, betraying a mix of hunger and embarrassment. It seemed her body had a way of making its demands heard.Luckily, I had prepared extra ingredients, which meant we had the flexibility to enjoy not only a satisfying lunch but also a delectable cake for dessert. "How about we have the cake for dessert?" I proposed, to which Aria nodded in agreement.This culinary endeavour was a departure from the norm. Instead of the cafeteria's food bars, we could craft a meal and dessert ourselves—a culinary treat that promised both satisfaction and indulgence. However, as I assessed the ingredients in our possession, I realized they might not be sufficient to satiate the appetites of six people.Holding the bags in my hands, I weighed the provisions thoughtfully. "I think we might need to visit the greenhouse to gather more ingredients," I suggested, considering the prospect of enhancing our feast.As we walked, a subtle chill brushed against my skin, eliciting a sense of unease—an inkling that something was awry, something I was overlooking. It was akin to forgetting a crucial detail, as if there was a missing puzzle piece in my understanding.My gaze descended to the pristine white marble floor, its surface seemingly empty and innocuous. But there should have been something—someone there—Mr. Blanc. My question hung in the air, "Where is Mr. Blanc?"Aria seemed taken aback by the inquiry. The realization struck me that Mr. Blanc had been conspicuously absent since our entrance into the cloud garden. It wasn't the first time he had disappeared, so it couldn't have been a simple case of losing his way. But what could have happened? An unsettling feeling gripped me—a sensation that whenever Mr. Blanc was involved, there was an undercurrent of unpredictability.What lay ahead? What was to come? Questions danced on the edges of my thoughts, their answers eluding my grasp.A pragmatic approach seemed to be the wisest choice. "If I dwell on it further, I'll only be wasting time," I mused aloud, deciding to let go of unnecessary speculation. With that, I motioned to continue forward, Aria trailing quietly in my footsteps.As we ventured toward the greenhouse, our purpose remained clear—to secure additional ingredients for our culinary endeavours, to create a meal that would not only nourish but also bring a sense of togetherness to our group. And while uncertainty lingered, the pursuit of sustenance and shared experiences propelled us forward, pushing aside the shadows of doubt that sought to obscure our path.
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