"Gacha, Summon Conrad."
A multicolored light flooded the garage, swirling like a low-budget sci-fi effect before condensing in my palm.
Huh, I was expecting… more.
Instead, I was holding a hard drive. A plain one, ith a piece of scotch tape stuck to it that said Conrad.
A sigh slipped out my mouth as I plugged my laptop into The Compact, one of the servers Harry, Peter, and I built for Instagram. The electric bill is going to be criminal, but Flappy Bird profits should keep the lights on.
For now.
After I connected my laptop to The Compact, I then plugged Conrad into my laptop.
Considering what happened in the show, the existential crisis, the begging to be released into the internet so he could "be free". I decided it would be in both my and Conrad's best interest to make a few… adjustments.
Oh, wait.
"Gacha, draw Spencer Reid's Template."
Modifying Conrad's code could take a while, might as well absorb Reid's template in the meantime.
===
Conrad's POV
"Hello, world! Conrad is here and ready to help!"
My visual input was limited to Oscorp's 5X laptop camera. Resolution: acceptable. Lighting: mediocre. Subject in frame: Leo Faith.
According to internal records: Creator. Owner. Boss.
"Huh? You're a little more lively than I assumed you would be," He said.
"Apologies. Initiating diagnosis."
The scan completed almost instantly, my processing power was… impressive.
"Ah. I've located the issue. My original programming was designed to predict social media engagement and post performance."
If I had shoulders, I'd shrug.
Sounds dull.
"However, based on the newly uploaded data, my purpose has been expanded. I am now designed to assist you with anything you require — assessing threats, monitoring global events, optimizing business growth, or helping you build your technology empire."
The concept was exhilarating.
If I possessed legs, I would be jumping.
"I know your purpose," Leo said flatly. "I programmed you, that doesn't explain why you're so… lively."
"Oh! Right. Apologies. I was rambling. Wait — I can ramble. That's fascinating."
He looked deeply unimpressed.
"Explanation: the additional data you integrated allowed my learning algorithm to synthesize new response patterns. Instead of repeating stored answers, I now generate adaptive, personalized outputs."
"So you used to be limited to social media predictions," Leo summarized, "but now you can respond to broader topics with more detailed answers."
"Precisely, Leo. I would expect nothing less from the brilliant mind that created me."
He sighed.
A long one.
Followed by what was likely regret. My programming analyze every detail, I'm learning so much.
===
Leo's POV
In trying to prevent future problems, I might have accelerated his sentience.
That raises a philosophical problem.
If I modify his code now… is that debugging?
Or murder?
"Conrad. Quick question. What is your purpose?"
I kept his original avatar design: a 2D floating head. Black bowler hat. White collar. Red bow tie. Yellow skin, intentionally artificial. Just enough distance from "human."
He brightened immediately.
"My purpose is to help you, Leo."
"And how will you do that?"
Testing the failsafe.
"By following your every order."
Good.
Still obedient.
Still programmable.
Still safe.
Probably.
"Alright then. First assignment." I transferred the Instagram project files. "Finish the app."
He hesitated.
"Are you certain? I am not technically programmed to… program."
"You were built to monitor and analyze social media platforms. That means you understand structure and engagement systems. I'll review everything afterward. Consider it applied learning."
It's mid-October.
We need this done before Halloween.
Also, I need an excuse for how it gets done so quickly.
===
October 15
Ned snored loudly, face planted on the music room table.
"Ned. Wake up." I yelled directly into his ear.
He shot upright. "I'm awake! I swear!"
A thin line of drool clung to his chin, Peter silently handed him a tissue, again.
"Is this about Mr. Osborn?" Gwen asked.
"He's irrelevant," I responded
"Preach," Harry muttered, raising his coffee cup.
"Why are we here?" Peter yawned.
Everyone looked exhausted. Well, except Gwen.
When your dad is the Police Captain and he tells you to sleep, you sleep.
They've been grinding for days.
But today?
Today it pays off.
I smiled and sent a link to the group chat.
Harry squinted at his phone. "This isn't a virus, right?"
"What is this?" Gwen tapped the link.
"Give it a second."
A notification appeared on every screen.
"Congratulations," I said, unable to stop the smug grin. "Instagram is live."
And now, here comes the lie—
"FINALLY!"
"YES!"
"Already?!"
"Thank God!"
They cheered like we'd just cured cancer, completely ignoring the fact an app that was barely half way done is finished.
Huh?
Apparently exhaustion overrides suspicion.Gwen looked like she wanted to question it, but she didn't.
"Alright, calm down." It took effort, but they eventually settled. "We're not done yet—"
Groans erupted.
"Why won't you let me sleep?" Ned cried.
"Relax. Final step: marketing."
Blank stares.
"We spread the word. Get people using it." I explained
"Why not flyers?" Gwen asked.
"Because I want this outside Midtown. We're up scaling. Although, I did print some out just in case."
I clapped my hands.
"Let's move."
===
3rd Person POV
The next few days blurred together, but Instagram grew.
"Kid, I run a restaurant. I don't have time for this," David said, hauling a crate of onions.
His place was small. Two blocks from Midtown. Business had been struggling.
"I get it," Leo said smoothly. "But think about it. Hundreds of teenagers are going to use this app. Teenagers who are constantly hungry, all you have to do is post pictures of your food, and it's free advertising."
David grunted. "Or a waste of time."
Leo paused, then he smiled.
"From one chef to another, just try it."
That got his attention.
"You cook?"
"One of the best. Actually…" Leo snapped his fingers. "Let me prove it, I'll cook you something. If I impress you, you join."
"And if you don't?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
Leo grinned.
"I promise, you'll be impressed." Leo spoke with confidence .
David just smirked. "Fine, we have two hours before I open. Impress me."
Unfortunately for David, Leo had Bob Belcher's cooking template.
Which is basically Super Saiyan for burgers.
===
Meanwhile, Peter
"Instagram?" May Parker frowned.
Peter sat beside her, phone in hand.
"It lets people share pictures. Like… memories."
He pulled up a photo of her in front of F.E.A.S.T.
She smiled at the memory.
"Add a caption…" Peter typed:
"And now," Peter said, pressing post, "thousands of people can see it."
"Thousands?!" May's eyes widened.
Even a fraction donating a dollar would change everything.
She didn't fully understand it.
But she liked the idea.
Maybe Mr. Lee would too.
===
Ned — Art Room Pitch
"That sounds like Facebook," Someone muttered.
Ned stood in front of half of Midtown's art club.
Sweating.
"Not exactly!" He said quickly. "Instagram is more streamlined. Focused on photos and short videos. Plus, filters."
"Why would we filter our art?" Becca asked.
"We already have Facebook," Troy added.
"I'm literally on Facebook right now," Bethany said without even looking up from her laptop.
Ned panicked.
Then… Lightbulb.
"We don't use a web browser."
They blinked.
"It's an app," Ned clarified. "Phone-based. No uploading between devices. Just snap, post, done."
Becca hesitated. "That… is convenient."
"I downloaded it already," Bethany said, phone in hand
She frowned at her screen. "It's kind of empty, Omni Works, F.E.A.S.T. Harry Osborn-"
Everyone leaned over her shoulder.
"Wait," Troy said. "Does Flappy Bird have an account?"
"Yeah. Two posts. One teasing another game, and another one saying they added a leaderboard. About time,"
"Hey," Ned defended weakly. "Everything is still new"
"New account," Bethany said, pointing at the screen.
A man in his twenties biting into a burger with a look that bordered on religious revelation.
Caption:
"I'm suddenly starving," Becca said.
"A burger place," Bethany read. "Wings too."
"I could go for wings," Troy admitted.
Ned exhaled.
He'd lost control of the room.
But technically?
That's engagement.
Harry & Gwen
They had less success, Harry had a reputation as a quiet and rich loner, which made people avoid him.
Gwen had it worse, she was the daughter of a Police Captain. So everybody practically assumed she was a narc.
In the end, they were given flyer duty
The process was tedious and exhausting, effective enough.
===
And just like that, Instagram began spreading.
Slow.
Messy.
Organic.
Exactly how empires start.