As expected, Nick's post didn't exactly pour water on the fire; it dumped gasoline on it.
People immediately began obsessively dissecting every word he'd written. The fact that he used the pronoun "she" instead of "it," combined with the "daughter" metaphor, sent the digital imagination into overdrive.
User JFOK posted: "'My daughter has just grown up, hidden away in her chambers.' That has to mean the AI is fully functional. It's sitting in a server in his lab right now, and the world just isn't ready for it yet."
User 1852 shot back: "I don't buy it. The fact that he kept calling it 'she' makes me think it's a real person, not an AI. This is a PR stunt."
"Replying to 1852: No way," zzyzz countered. "The fact that he calls it 'she' shows that Nick and his team believe they've created a true digital life. That's the whole point."
"JFOK is right," An Hou added. "Read between the lines. He's saying the tech is in the 'nursery' phase. All that stuff about 'learning the arts and poetry' is code for developing advanced cognitive subroutines."
Zvmam chimed in: "Honestly, I hope it's real. If it is, I'm buying one the day it drops. I don't care what the price tag is."
"The ending of that post was beautiful," another user noted. "'To find a gentleman and spend a lifetime with him.' That's some deep stuff for a tech bro."
"If it's true, I'm in," 5660 wrote. "Coming home to an empty apartment every night is soul-crushing. Having someone—or something—to actually talk to would change everything."
"Get a life, you shut-ins," Grstring posted, followed by a string of laughing emojis. "Go outside. If you actually made friends, you wouldn't need a robot girlfriend."
ha1846 jumped in to defend: "Some people are just introverted, or they're working three jobs and have zero time. If this tech can give someone a sense of companionship, who are you to judge?"
"I just hope there's a physical version," Ha posted with a row of smirking emojis. "Doesn't matter if it's expensive, as long as it looks and feels real."
"Whoa, guy above is down bad... but I get it," XxVoid replied with handshake emojis.
...
Behind the genuine curiosity, the trolls and grifters were out in force. Overnight, TikTok and Reels were flooded with parodies and spoofs. A few activist groups even started a hashtag campaign, claiming Nick's "daughter" metaphor was inherently patronizing or discriminatory.
Meanwhile, "experts" on cable news were calling for government investigations into whether Militech was engaging in securities fraud by hyping "fake" technology.
Nick didn't care—he was buried in the lab, blissfully unaware of the outside world. Tyler, however, was at his breaking point. The constant barrage of calls and the mounting public pressure had him on the verge of a literal collapse. Realizing Nick wasn't going to move on his own, Tyler decided to play firefighter.
The official Militech X account released a statement:
"All company projects are in full compliance with state and federal regulations. Our R&D is funded entirely through internal revenue; we have not engaged in public fundraising or outside investment rounds.
Our mission at Militech is simply to explore the unknown for the benefit of all. We will provide a technical update when the time is right.
Thank you for your patience."
The post answered the legal questions but failed to satisfy the public's hunger. Everyone wanted Nick to step into the light and prove the video wasn't a deepfake.
The media circus descended on Tampa. Reporters were camped out near the office, trying to figure out if Militech was a legitimate tech powerhouse or just a sophisticated shell company. Unidentified "tourists" began loitering near the entrance, forcing the office park to hire extra security. The local PD even stationed a cruiser nearby to keep the peace.
Tyler finally snapped. He stormed into the lab, finding Nick and Zack laughing over a cup of coffee with the techs.
"Seriously? You guys are just hanging out?" Tyler barked, his face red. "It's a war zone out there."
"You said 'about to be' a war zone, but it hasn't started yet," Nick said, unbothered. "Besides, I saw the cops outside. They've got it handled, right?"
Tyler glared at him. "Cut the crap, Nick. You lit this fuse, now you have to put it out. Stop dumping this on me. I'm drowning in phone calls, and the admin girls are terrified to walk to their cars because of the reporters. And it's not just the press—there are people out there who definitely don't look like journalists. Even the city council is on my back, telling us to 'eliminate the negative impact' before something goes sideways."
"What negative impact? It's just people talking," Zack said, waving a hand dismissively.
Tyler shook his head. "The city wants the reporters gone, period. And honestly? The local officials don't believe the tech is real either. They've hauled me into meetings three times this week to grill me."
"Why do they care?" Nick asked, finally looking puzzled.
Tyler rolled his eyes. "Because we're a 'star startup' for the city's development initiative. If we turn out to be a scam, it makes them look like idiots. Look, I can't hold the line anymore. You have to go out there and explain yourself. It just so happens a producer from a major network is here, and she's asking for you by name. It's an 'exclusive' opportunity to clear the air."
"A major network?" Nick asked.
Tyler nodded. "It's Sarah Jenkins from 60 Minutes. She's a heavyweight. If we blow this, or if she thinks we're lying, it's game over for our reputation."
Nick frowned. He thought about it for a long beat, then finally stood up. "Fine. Tell her I'll do the interview."