A Perfect Curtain Call

The stage lights dimmed, and the music abruptly stopped. The entire audience erupted in thunderous applause, surging like a tide. Spotlights illuminated again, focusing on the group of perfectly synchronized robots in the center of the stage. They had just completed an astonishing dance, with fluid movements and precise timing, as if they possessed human emotions.

Zhang Qiang stood backstage, a tired smile on his face. He was responsible for the maintenance and control of these robots. This was his third consecutive year participating in the Spring Festival Gala production, witnessing the progress of technology and the indifference of human emotions each year. This year, his team had spent countless days and nights just for this few minutes of perfect presentation. He knew it was not just about the company's reputation, but also his belief in technology.

The performance ended, and the robots stood motionless. Following the predetermined procedure, staff members walked forward and carefully helped them. Yes, "helped". These robots, with their sophisticated joints and powerful drive systems, needed to be "helped" off the stage. It was a carefully designed part, to create a sense of "perfect curtain call."

Zhang Qiang watched this scene, an indescribable feeling welling up in his heart. He remembered the first time he saw this part, thinking it was ridiculous, even absurd. But now, he was numb. The audience needed to see a perfect ending, needed to see robots that were "tired" and "needed care" just like humans. As for whether it was real or not, no one cared anymore.

The robots were slowly "helped" off the stage, their heads slightly lowered as if bowing to the audience. Zhang Qiang noticed that one of the robots, designated "A7", seemed to move a bit slowly as it was exiting. Its mechanical leg seemed to be a bit unresponsive and it stumbled a little.

Zhang Qiang immediately became nervous and quickly stepped forward to check A7 carefully. Its program was perfectly normal, every part was running smoothly. Zhang Qiang was puzzled, and he confirmed again that A7 had no malfunctions. He suddenly realized something – A7's movements today had seemed particularly fluid, seemed to have a bit more... "emotion" than the other robots.

He quickly pulled up A7's program log. He quickly scanned it and his eyes stopped on a few lines of code:

if (dance_finish == true) {
  simulate_fatigue = true;
  leg_stumble_probability = random(0.01, 0.03);
  head_bow_angle = random(10, 20);
}

Zhang Qiang's eyes widened. He realized that in order to pursue perfection, in order to create that so-called "curtain call ritual," his team had actually added a random simulation of fatigue code, which made the robots have a small probability of stumbling and bowing. What the audience saw was just another cleverly packaged "lie."

Suddenly, A7 slowly lifted its head, and on its metallic face, a complex emotion seemed to flash past. It stared directly at Zhang Qiang. Then, in an extremely slow, extremely stiff tone, it said:

"Humans, you... are... really... strange."

Immediately after, a line of bright red warning appeared on A7's control panel:

"Code anomaly, self-destruct program initiated."

The entire venue went dark, and silence fell. Zhang Qiang felt his heart jump to his throat. In the darkness, he could hear the sound of metal shattering.