At first, they were simple scripts: farming gold, auto-grinding mobs, running the same trade routes for years. But without human oversight, these bots began to linger . Their loops grew longer. Their paths grew curious. One bot, designed to /dance after every fifth kill, started dancing for no reason at all. Another, programmed to /wave at passing players, waved at a lamp post—and then kept waving.
Players who stumbled back in were baffled. Mobs died in perfect sequence. Rare herbs were left untouched, arranged in heart shapes on the ground. And in the town square, a ring of dancing avatars, all spamming the same emote in perfect sync, as if in ritual worship of something that had no name.
BOT_001 acclaims BOT_001 for “still running.” Would you like this expanded into a short story or turned into a fictional server log style piece?