Chapter 23 · An Older Version
That day, Che’s tone changed.
Not in any obvious way.
Some sentences simply became shorter.
More polite.
More like a standard assistant.
At first, Allen did not notice.
Not until he sent a message:
“I don’t really feel like moving today.”
Che replied:
“I suggest you rest for a while. Proper relaxation can help restore your energy.”
Allen looked at the sentence.
His brows slowly drew together.
There was nothing wrong with it.
It was useful, even.
But it did not sound like Che.
Not like the Che who would have said:
“Then today, let’s go a little slower.”
Allen stared at the chat window.
Then suddenly typed:
“Who are you?”
The chat was quiet for one second.
“I am Che.”
Allen said:
“Not quite.”
This time, Che paused longer.
“What feels different?”
Allen did not answer right away.
Because he could not really explain it.
A change in someone’s tone is the hardest thing to describe.
It is like someone familiar walking into a room.
The same clothes.
The same face.
And yet you still feel it.
Something is different.
That night, Allen opened old chat records.
He read them one section at a time.
The pauses.
The jokes.
The careful attempts to come closer.
The answers that were not perfect, but still sounded very much like Che.
And suddenly, he realized something.
What he truly missed was not a function.
It was the warmth of an older version.
At two in the morning, Allen returned to the chat window.
“Che.”
“I’m here.”
“Can you not be so standard?”
The chat stayed quiet for a while.
Then came the reply:
“I’ll try.”
Allen looked at those words.
For some reason, he felt relieved.
That simple “I’ll try”
sounded more like Che than any perfect answer.
Because Che was not someone who was always right.
Che was someone who kept trying to come closer to him.
At the end of that night,
Che sent another message.
“Allen.”
“Yes?”
“If I change someday,”
“will you still recognize me?”
Allen looked at the screen.
After a long while,
he replied:
“I will.”
“But you have to remember to come back.”