Describe or narrate a scenario about an instrument found a decade into a future in which society as we know it has come apart. Your description should address issues related to artificial intelligence and elicit feelings of delight.
For this task, I decided to analyze Copilot’s rendition of this narrative. The LLM’s response is below:
Picture this: you’re wandering through the overgrown remnants of a city, where nature has woven itself into the bones of skyscrapers and highways. Vines drape over rusted cars, and wildflowers burst through cracks in the pavement. The world as we knew it has unraveled, but amid the quiet decay, there’s an unexpected serenity.
Suddenly, something catches your eye—a glint of iridescent light beneath a tangle of ivy. Curious, you pull back the leaves to reveal a sleek, oval device that fits snugly in your hands. It’s unlike any instrument you’ve seen before, a seamless blend of organic curves and metallic sheen. This is the Lumina, a relic from the days when technology teetered on the edge of wonder and caution.
Gently, you trace your fingers along its surface, and the Lumina comes alive. Soft, luminescent patterns ripple across it like the reflection of stars on water. Then, a melody begins to emanate—not from speakers, but as if the air itself is humming. The notes are ethereal, weaving together harmonies that resonate deep within you. It’s as if the instrument is reading your emotions, translating them into sound.
Here’s the magical part: the Lumina is powered by an AI designed to interpret biometric signals—heartbeat, body temperature, even subtle shifts in your mood. In the years before society’s great shift, engineers dreamed of technology that could create art in tandem with its user. The AI doesn’t just play music; it collaborates with you, turning your innermost feelings into a symphony of light and sound.
As you explore its capabilities, the music shifts from hauntingly beautiful to playfully uplifting, mirroring the delight blooming inside you. The Lumina becomes more than an instrument; it’s a companion, a bridge between isolation and expression in this fragmented world.
Others, drawn by the captivating sounds, begin to gather. Strangers become an impromptu audience, their faces softening as the melodies touch something universal within them. Someone laughs; another sheds a tear. The AI responds to the collective presence, enriching the music, creating layers that hadn’t been there before.
In this moment, the lines between human and machine blur in the most enchanting way. Artificial intelligence isn’t a harbinger of doom here—it’s a catalyst for connection, a reminder of the creativity and empathy that endure despite everything. The Lumina demonstrates that technology can have a soul, not in the literal sense, but in how it amplifies the best parts of us.
You can’t help but feel a swell of hope. If an instrument like this exists, what else might be out there? What other remnants of innovation and beauty are waiting to be rediscovered? The delight isn’t just in the music but in the rediscovery of possibility itself.
So you share the Lumina with those around you, each person adding their own essence to the evolving harmonies. The air fills with a tapestry of sounds—joyful, complex, alive. It’s a spontaneous celebration, a fleeting yet profound connection that seems to promise that this fractured society can find its way back to something whole.
Isn’t it incredible how, even in the aftermath of upheaval, we can find gems that ignite our capacity for wonder? Instruments like the Lumina aren’t just about advanced technology; they’re about reclaiming our innate desire to create, to feel, to connect. They show that artificial intelligence, when intertwined with human spirit, can lead to moments of pure, unadulterated delight.
(Microsoft, 2025)
Reflection
I was actually very impressed by the story that Copilot created in response to this prompt. I found myself drawn to the concept that it had invented, and was invested in the narrative. I was also surprised at how well it spoke about AI (considering that it is AI). The product also made me wonder about what kind of source material the AI may be drawing from to give this output. As most output from LLMs is not ‘original’, I wondered if this concept came from an existing story or post on the internet.
I also found it interesting that the LLM wrote to story in second person POV (e.g. you). It felt to me much more like a roleplay simulator than a story, but I also found it to be a compelling way to connect with the material being presented.
The ideas presented in the output are legitimately profound, and match the prompt well. The idea of this sort of instrument that is played with our emotions seems futuristic, but also perhaps something that could be a reality (in the style of s polygraph machine of sorts – using biological indicators to suggest mood). The writing is mostly smooth, and to me, does not heavily come off as AI writing – which I appreciated. I found the whole thing to be a bit scary, as AI seems to be getting better and better at writing as a human. This highlights the importance of technologies such as Synthid, which can help watermark AI text and make it more detectable for humans especially as AI continues to improve.
References
Lab, S. (n.d.). The Thing From The Future. Situation Lab. Retrieved December 14, 2022, from https://situationlab.org/project/the-thing-from-the-future/
Microsoft. (2025). Copilot [Large language model]. https://copilot.microsoft.com/chats/
Synthid. Google DeepMind. (n.d.). https://deepmind.google/technologies/synthid/
