Sanny's Choice

Welcome to a branching adventure with 16 different endings. Today, you’re stepping into the shoes of Sanny, a Grade 8 student juggling a huge school project, and the tempting power of AI tools that promise to “help.” Guide Sanny through every decision she makes. Each choice leads to a new path… some helpful, some risky, some surprising. There’s no single “right” route here. ''Experiment. Make mistakes. Explore all the endings.'' But before you jump in, here’s how to read this story: * (text-colour:#e95624)[Orange text shows human voices (friends, teachers, or sometimes Sanny talking to herself.)] * (text-colour:#00a38f)[Green text shows interactions with AI (what the tool suggests, advises, or generates.)] * (text-colour:#ffc922)[Yellow text marks important takeaways (lessons Sanny notices along the way.)] When you reach the end of a scene, you’ll find clickable options like (text-colour:#494eaa)[【______】]. Each 【choice】 leads to a different storyline… and a different ending. When you’re done exploring… Report only the accurate, responsible choices back to Earth. [[【Good luck! Sanny’s project (and maybe the fate of future AI users) is in your hands. 】 |Intro Scene]]

Sanny, a Grade 8 student with a massive “Future of AI” project due in one week, sits at her desk and opens her laptop. Her teacher’s words echo in her mind: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“You can use AI tools… but you must think for yourself and show your own ideas.”//] A chatbot window pops up immediately: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“Hi! I can help you with research, writing, and images. What do you want to do first?”//] Sanny hesitates. She could let the tool do most of the work. Or she could use it the way her teacher described, like a helper, not a replacement. [[【Use AI as a brainstorming buddy.】|🟢 1A]] [[【Do it FOR me.】|🔴 1B]]

Sanny types carefully: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“Can you give me 5 ideas about how AI helps and 5 ideas about problems with AI? I’ll pick what I want to research.”//] The chatbot responds instantly with two tidy lists. Sanny reads them, deletes a few, rewrites others, and adds points from her own class notes. This feels good. Like teamwork… but she’s still the one thinking. Later, she asks the AI: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“Can you draft a paragraph explaining ‘AI and fairness’?”//] The AI sends a neat paragraph. Except for one sentence that nearly makes her drop her laptop: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“AI has never been shown to be biased in facial recognition or policing systems.”//] Sanny frowns. She knows that’s wrong. Last week’s lesson covered: * AI misreading darker skin * policing tools with discriminatory patterns * search engines showing racial bias So why did the AI say the opposite? [[【Check my notes & ask the AI to correct itself.】|🟢 1A-2A]] [[【It’s probably right, let’s not waste time.】|🔴1A-2B]]

Sanny stares at the paragraph… then shrugs. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It probably knows more than me. And I need to finish this fast.”//] She copies the entire thing (wrong sentence included) straight into her project. As Sanny keeps writing, the AI starts adding more perfect-sounding sentences. Sanny skims it quickly and pastes without thinking. Some parts: * don’t match her class notes * skip important examples * sound way more “grown-up” than her usual style But Sanny doesn’t notice. Later, her friend messages: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Hey, I’m stuck. Can I see your paragraph on AI and fairness to get ideas?”//] [[【Re-read it first and fix anything that seems wrong.】|🟢 1A–2B–3A]] [[【Send it as-is. It looks smart enough.】|🔴 1A–2B–3B]]

Sanny flips through her binder and opens last week’s slides. Yep… the AI was wrong. Completely. She types: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“This part seems inaccurate. Can you review this and correct your mistakes?”//] The AI apologizes (in that overly polite way only AIs can) and rewrites the paragraph. This version: * includes real examples * explains bias clearly * makes sense to her Sanny leans back. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Okay… it can be wrong. But if I stay alert, I can fix it.”//] Now she wonders: Should she tell her teacher she used AI and corrected it? [[【Be transparent about what I used and what I fixed.】|🟢 1A-2A-3A]] [[【Hide it to look more impressive.】|🔴 1A-2A-3B]]

Sanny looks over her project slides. She’s made notes showing: * highlights where she rewrote AI-generated text * sticky notes explaining why bias matters * examples she came up with herself She practices how she’ll explain her process: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“I used AI to help brainstorm, but I checked the facts and rewrote the parts that were wrong.”//] It sounds honest. It feels honest. Then a quiet worry creeps in: ''“What if my teacher thinks this is cheating? I could delete the transparency slide… no one would know.”'' Her finger hovers over the delete key. [[【Tell the whole story (mistakes and all).】|🟢 1A–2A–3A–4A]] [[【Hide it. No one needs to know.】|🔴 1A–2A–3A–4B]]

Sanny deletes the transparency slide. The project looks smoother, cleaner… almost too perfect. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It’s not lying,”//] she whispers. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It’s just… not telling everything.”//] But as she reviews her slides again, something bothers her. The paragraph she corrected earlier sounds: * more polished * more organized * more mature …than the rest of her writing. A tiny knot forms in her chest. * ''“What if my teacher asks where that part came from?”'' * ''“What if I can’t explain it in my own words?”'' The worry grows the longer she stares at her screen. She doesn’t want to get caught off guard, or freeze during the presentation. She needs to do something before tomorrow. [[【Practice explaining the idea in her own words.】|🟢 1A–2A–3B–4A]] [[【Hope no one asks questions.】|🔴 1A–2A–3B–4B]]

Sanny sighs and finally rereads what she pasted earlier. Instant regret. The “no bias ever” sentence jumps out immediately, and two more lines feel suspicious. She deletes the false claim, rewrites the sloppy parts, and sends the corrected version to her friend. Her friend replies: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“THANK YOU!! This makes so much sense now.”//] Sanny smiles. It feels good to fix something instead of spreading a mistake. But now she can’t stop noticing other red flags in her own slides: * a statistic she doesn’t remember learning * a fancy quote that seems too perfect * a definition that doesn’t match her notes She swallows. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“If I missed one mistake… maybe I missed more.”//] [[【Review the whole project carefully.】|🟢 1A–2B–3A–4A]] [[【Only fix the part his friend saw.】|🔴 1A–2B–3A–4B]]

Sanny doesn’t reread anything. She just copy-pastes the whole paragraph into the chat: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Here, you can use this for ideas :)”//] Her friend replies almost instantly: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Omg thank youuuu, this is perfect!!”//] Sanny stares at the screen a second longer than she means to. A tiny thought pokes at her: * ''What if my friend trusts that sentence about ‘no bias ever’?'' * ''What if they put it in their project… and then someone else copies them…'' She shuts the laptop. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It’s fine,”//] she tells herself. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It sounds smart. And I don’t have time to worry about every little thing.”//] But as she gets ready for bed, the “every little thing” won’t shut up. She rolls over, pulls the blanket up, and tries to ignore the uncomfortable feeling growing in her chest. [[【Tell her friend the info might be wrong & fix her own work.】|🟢 1A–2B–3B–4A]] [[【Ignore the problem and just finish the slideshow.】|🔴 1A–2B–3B–4B]]

The next day, Sanny stands in front of the class. Her hands shake a little, but her voice doesn’t fade. (text-colour:#e95624)[//““I used an AI tool to brainstorm and draft ideas…but I double-checked everything. Some of it was wrong, so I corrected it.””//] No one laughs. Her teacher smiles with real pride. During Q&A, Sanny answers confidently because she genuinely understands every point she included. After class, a classmate whispers: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Thanks for being honest. I feel better about using AI now.”//] Walking down the hallway, Sanny feels something she didn’t expect: Not perfect. Not heroic. Just… right. She learned that'' integrity feels better than pretending to be perfect.'' (text-colour:#ffc922)[//Honesty Makes You Stronger//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

Sanny stands at the front of the classroom. The bright, polished slides glow behind her, but something inside her feels heavy. Her teacher smiles warmly and asks: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Sanny, can you walk us through how you checked the accuracy of your facts?”//] Sanny’s breath catches. She tries to speak, but the words tangle. She can’t show the highlighted corrections. She can’t show the note where she spotted the AI’s mistake. She can’t talk about the process because she deleted all the evidence of it. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Uh… I just… looked things up,”//] she mumbles. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“I checked… some notes… I think.”//] Her voice shrinks. Her classmates shift uncomfortably. Her teacher’s expression softens, not angry, just… puzzled. A wave of embarrassment floods her chest. And suddenly she understands: By hiding the transparency slide, she didn’t just remove a page… ''she erased her own learning.'' The project looked “clean”… but she no longer felt proud of it. (text-colour:#ffc922)[//Hiding Your Process Hides Your Growth//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

That night, Sanny opens her slideshow again. Even without the transparency slide, she wants to be sure she actually understands what she wrote. She whispers: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Okay… let me try explaining this without reading it.”//] The first attempt is rough. Her words stumble, her explanations feel shaky, and the ideas don’t quite hold together. But she keeps going… trying again, rephrasing, correcting herself, starting over when she needs to. Slowly, the ideas start to click. Not because the AI phrased them well, but because she worked through them herself. By bedtime, she can explain every major point in her own words. On the presentation day, Sanny stands in front of the class. Partway through, the teacher asks: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Sanny, can you explain this example?”//] She nods, and does. She explains the idea clearly. No script. No panic. Just understanding. Walking back to her seat, Sanny feels something warm spark in her chest. And for the first time, she realizes: ''Even when AI helps, the understanding still has to come from me.'' (text-colour:#ffc922)[//By understanding the work, you kept the learning//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

The next morning, Sanny stands in front of the class with sweaty palms. Her slides look great. She clicks to the section she corrected with AI. For a moment, the room is quiet. Then a hand goes up in the back. (text-colour:orange)[//“Hey Sanny… can you explain that example again? I didn’t really get it.”//] Her stomach drops. She opens her mouth, and nothing comes out. No notes. No transparency slide. No reminder of how she fixed it. Just a foggy blank. She tries, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Um… well… it’s because AI is… uh… doing pattern… things… so…”//] Her voice trails off. A soft silence fills the room… the kind that makes you want to disappear. The teacher gently says, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It’s okay, Sanny. Take your time.”//] But she can’t. There’s nothing to grab onto, because she erased the very evidence of how she worked. Sanny forces a shaky smile and clicks to the next slide. Inside, she feels small. She didn’t get in trouble. Nobody yelled. But she knows: ''Hiding the truth didn’t make her project stronger. It just made her weaker in the moment she needed confidence most.'' (text-colour:#ffc922)[//When you hide the process, you lose your footing.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

She groans. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“This is going to take forever.”//] But she knows what she has to do. She starts a full clean-up, checking every slide against her notes. Slowly, she: * deletes the confusing sentences * replaces wrong facts * removes a fake-sounding quote * fixes examples so they actually match class lessons It’s not fast. It’s not fun. But with every correction, the project feels more like something she made, not something a chatbot patched together. By the end of the night, the slides aren’t perfect…but they are true, checked, and hers. On the presentation day, Sanny stands at the front of the room. Her hands shake a little, but she knows what’s in her slides. As she presents, a classmate asks: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“How did you know which parts to trust?”//] Sanny answers calmly: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“I compared everything to my notes. If something didn’t match what we learned, I changed it. AI can help, but it’s not always right.”//] The teacher nods, impressed. Sanny heads back to her seat feeling a quiet, grounded pride. Not because the slides are perfect. But because she took responsibility, and did the work. (text-colour:#ffc922)[//You fixed the mistakes… and the project became yours again.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

Sanny scrolls through her project, hovering over the suspicious sections. She fixed the glaring error, the one her friend might have copied. That felt responsible enough. But the rest? The odd statistic. The overconfident claim. The too-polished paragraph with no source. She stares at them for a moment… then keeps scrolling. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It’s probably fine,”//] she mutters. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Besides, no one else will look that closely.”//] She tweaks one sentence, just enough to feel productive, then shuts her laptop. On the presentation day, Sanny stands in front of the class, palms slightly sweaty. Everything seems fine. Then the teacher pauses at Slide 4. She reads a sentence aloud: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“AI systems are almost always unbiased in decision-making.”//] The room goes quiet. The teacher looks up gently, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Sanny… how does this match what we discussed about policing and facial recognition bias last week?”//] Sanny’s mind blanks. Her mouth opens… but no explanation comes out. The mismatch is obvious now… one section carefully corrected, the next untouched and inaccurate. Sanny feels her chest tighten as the truth hits her: ''Fixing only the part someone else might see… wasn’t enough to protect her learning.'' (text-colour:#ffc922)[//You fixed one mistake… but left the others waiting for you.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

By morning, the uneasy feeling still hasn’t gone away. Sanny rereads the paragraph on her phone. The “no bias ever” line looks even worse in daylight. She winces. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Okay… I can’t pretend I didn’t see this.”//] Her thumbs hover for a moment before she types: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Hey, about that paragraph I sent yesterday… I think one of the sentences is actually wrong. We learned in class that facial recognition can be biased. I’m fixing my slide now. You might want to double-check yours too.”//] She hits send before she can overthink it. A minute later, her friend replies: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Oh shoot, I didn’t catch that. Thanks for telling me!! I’ll fix it.”//] Sanny’s shoulders drop a little. The tightness eases. Back at her desk at home, she opens her own slideshow. Now that she’s admitted there’s a problem, she can’t unsee the mistakes. She deletes the wrong line, rewrites the section using her notes, and adds a real example from class. It takes longer than she hoped… but when she’s done, the slide finally feels true to what she actually learned. During her presentation, Sanny explains the revised slide: * how AI can be biased * why tools like facial recognition need human checking * how she corrected a mistake she almost passed on At the end, the teacher asks: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Did any AI tools help you with this project?”//] Sanny’s heart jumps, but she nods. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Yeah. I used a chatbot to brainstorm. At first, it gave me a sentence that wasn’t true about bias, and I shared it without checking. Later I caught the mistake, fixed mine, and told my friend too.”//] The room stays quiet for a beat. Then the teacher smiles gently. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Thank you for being honest, and for cleaning up that mistake instead of pretending it didn’t happen.That’s what responsibility with AI looks like.”//] Sanny feels her face warm, but this time it’s not from embarrassment. It’s from relief. She didn’t do everything perfectly. But she fixed what mattered, and that counts. (text-colour:#ffc922)[//You made a mistake… and corrected it with responsibility.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

Sanny sits in front of her computer, staring at the paragraph she sent to her friend, the one with the sentence she now knows is wrong. It sits in the middle of her slideshow like a tiny red warning light. She exhales sharply. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Whatever. I just need to finish this,”//] she mutters. So she scrolls past it, pretending the discomfort in her chest isn’t growing. She doesn’t fix it. She doesn’t reread it. She just keeps going. When it’s time to present, her confidence feels thin, like paper. Sanny press first. Her voice is steady until she reaches that slide, the one with the confident but false claim: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“AI has never been shown to be biased in facial recognition or policing systems.”//] A few students tilt their heads. Someone whispers, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Wait… what?”//] A quiet ripple passes through the room, the kind that means something isn’t matching what they learned. Before anyone asks, her friend begins their presentation. And halfway through… They repeat the exact same wrong sentence. Same mistake Sanny passed on. The wrong idea echoes across the classroom twice, and now the teacher raises a hand. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Where did that information come from?”//] Silence falls so heavily it feels like the air thickens. Sanny’s stomach drops. Her friend looks at her. Sanny looks back. Neither of them has a source. Neither of them can explain it. Neither of them can undo the moment. And in that heavy, still moment, Sanny finally feels the full weight of the choice she tried to skip past. The class watches as the uncomfortable truth settles in: ''A mistake you ignore doesn’t disappear. Sometimes, it spreads.'' (text-colour:#ffc922)[//You let a small mistake ripple outward… and it found its way back.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

Sanny bites her lip, then types: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“Can you write my whole slideshow and essay about AI? Make it sound really smart.”//] The chatbot loads for a moment… then paragraphs flood the screen. They’re long. Polished. Fancy. Nothing about the writing feels like her voice, but the project is technically “done,” and that counts for something… right? She scrolls down until one line jumps out like a flashing sign: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“In 2012, Canada banned all AI use in schools for 10 years.”//] Sanny freezes. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“That never happened… did it?”//] There’s no source. No explanation. Just confident text pretending to be true. Her stomach twists. Did the AI just… make that up? [[【Search it & ask the AI to show its sources.】|🟢 1B-2A]] [[【Trust the AI because it sounds smart.】|🔴1B-2B]]

Sanny opens a new browser tab and searches. Nothing. No news articles. No announcements. No “AI ban” in Canada, not in 2012, not ever. She types to the chatbot: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“Where did you get that information? Can you show me the source?”//] The AI hesitates, then admits it can’t. Sanny deletes the whole paragraph. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Okay,”//] she murmurs, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“If something sounds dramatic, I check it myself.”//] She looks at her nearly-empty slideshow and thinks… (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Do I rebuild this myself… or let the AI keep writing?”//] [[【Write her own draft, then ask AI to help with clarity.】|🟢 1B-2A-3A]] [[【Ask AI to rewrite everything to sound more ‘advanced’.】|🔴 1B-2A-3B]]

Sanny decides to try doing the real thinking herself. She starts drafting her own bullet points: * What AI is * Where bias shows up * Examples from class * Pros & cons * Her own thoughts on fairness It’s slower. It’s messier. But it feels hers. When she gets stuck, she asks the AI for simple edits like: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“Can you make this clearer without adding new facts?”//] The AI cleans the sentences but doesn’t change her ideas. For the first time that night, she feels a small glow of pride. Her voice is coming through. But she still can’t decide one thing: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Should I polish the remaining rough spots with AI… or keep them as they are so the project still sounds like me?”//] [[【Light editing only: keep her real voice strongest.】|🟢 1B–2A–3A–4A]] [[【Ask AI to heavily rewrite everything again.】|🔴 1B–2A–3A–4B]]

Sanny sighs at the nearly empty slideshow. Her cursor hovers over the chatbot again. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“…Fine. Just make it sound good.”//] She types: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“Rewrite all my slides. Make them very advanced. Academic. Professional.”//] The AI obliges instantly. Now the text: * uses complicated words she’d never say * adds examples she’s never heard of * flows so smoothly it feels unreal * sounds like three different writers mashed together Sanny scrolls slowly, her forehead tightening. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Do I… even know what any of this means?”//] Her stomach gives a small uncomfortable twist. If she presents this, what happens when someone asks her a question? What if the teacher asks her to explain a sentence? But the project looks incredible, polished, impressive, sophisticated. It looks like something a university student might write. That’s exactly what scares her. [[【Rewrite confusing parts in her own words.】|🟢 1B–2A–3B–4A]] [[【Keep everything & hope no one asks questions.】|🔴 1B–2A–3B–4B]]

Sanny scrolls through her slides. Some parts are beautifully clear. Some parts are clunky and imperfect. But all of it sounds like her. Her finger hovers over the AI assistant button. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“If I make it too smooth… it won’t be my project anymore,”//] she whispers. She closes the AI tab. Decision made. During presentation, Sanny stands in front of the class, heart buzzing with nerves. She begins. Her slides aren’t flashy. Her wording isn’t perfect. But her thinking is strong and unmistakably hers. Halfway through, the teacher smiles and says: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“I appreciate how clearly your own voice comes through. You explained your ideas with real understanding.”//] A warm, steady confidence spreads across Sanny’s chest. After class, a friend nudges her: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Your project actually sounded like you. I wish mine did.”//] Sanny walks out of the room taller. She didn’t take the fastest path. She didn’t take the easiest path. She took the honest path, and learned more because of it. (text-colour:#ffc922)[//You kept your real voice, and your integrity.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

Sanny hovers over the roughest slide, the one she wrote late at night when she was tired. The sentences look plain. A thought whispers, ''“It would look so much better if it sounded… smarter.”'' Before she can talk herself out of it, she types to the chatbot: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“Rewrite my entire slideshow. Make it formal. Advanced. Academic.”//] The AI responds instantly. Long sentences. Complicated vocabulary. Smooth, professional tone. Nothing like her voice, but undeniably polished. Sanny pastes it all in. She just wants the project to look impressive. During presentation, Sanny clicks to Slide 3 and reads the new text aloud. Her voice falters halfway through a sentence: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Contemporary algorithmic infrastructures demonstrate emergent behaviors that complicate traditional epistemological norms—”//] She hears herself. She sounds like a robot pretending to be a university professor. A student raises a hand. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Uh… Sanny? What does that mean?”//] Her mind empties. She tries again, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It means… I guess it’s like… algorithms are… um…”//] Her cheeks flame. The teacher steps in gently: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Sanny, it sounds like the wording here may be more advanced than what we’ve studied. Can you explain the idea in your own words?”//] Sanny opens her mouth, but she can’t. She doesn’t know what the sentence means. And now everyone can tell. Her stomach sinks as she realizes: ''Polished writing doesn’t help you, if it isn’t yours.'' (text-colour:#ffc922)[//When the AI sounded smart… but you couldn’t follow.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

Sanny sits back in her chair and reads the fancy sentences again. She whispers: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“I can’t present something I don’t understand.”//] She opens a blank document and begins the slow, careful work. One sentence at a time. Here’s one from the AI: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“Algorithmic infrastructures frequently manifest emergent predictive behaviors derived from substantial data ingestion.”//] Sanny squints. Then rewrites it: ''“AI makes predictions by learning from lots of examples.”'' That… she understands. With each rewrite, something shifts inside her. Her project stops sounding like a stranger… and starts sounding like a student who actually gets it. By midnight, the slides aren’t fancy, but they’re solid, readable, honest. And they’re unmistakably hers. During presentation, Sanny steps to the front of the room. Her slides are not perfect, but when she speaks, she feels steady. Halfway through, the teacher asks: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Sanny, could you explain that point again in your own words?”//] Sanny takes a breath. And she does. Easily. Calmly. Because she actually understands what she wrote. When she finishes, the teacher smiles: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Clear explanations take real thinking. Nicely done.”//] Warmth rises in Sanny’s chest, quiet, but sure. It isn’t the fancy vocabulary that made her project strong. It was the part where she chose to understand it. (text-colour:#ffc922)[//You made it make sense by making it yours.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

Sanny sits hunched over her laptop, the glow of the polished slides lighting up her face. They look amazing. She knows the writing is packed with words she doesn’t use, ideas she didn’t think of, and sentences she can’t explain. But the project looks like an A+. And she’s exhausted. Her cursor hovers for a moment. Then she whispers, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“…It’ll be okay. As long as no one asks questions.”//] She saves the file and closes the laptop with a soft click she immediately regrets. During presentation, Sanny walks to the front of the room, heart knocking against her ribs. Her slideshow shines on the screen. It looks like something a college student might submit. She wishes she felt even half that polished inside. She starts reading. Slide by slide, she keeps going, eyes glued to the screen like it’s a script she memorized five minutes ago. For a moment, she thinks she might actually get away with it. Then the teacher raises a gentle hand. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Sanny, could you explain this part in your own words?”//] Her stomach drops. The teacher is pointing to the sentence, the one she left in because it sounded smart, the one she didn’t rewrite, the one she prayed no one would notice. Sanny’s mind blanks. She opens her mouth… but nothing comes out. Her classmates shift quietly in their seats. Someone clears their throat. The pause stretches until it hurts. Finally the teacher speaks softly: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It’s okay, Sanny. Sometimes writing sounds advanced, but doesn’t reflect our real understanding. Let’s talk through this together later.”//] The words are kind, but they land with weight. Sanny nods, cheeks burning, throat tight. ''The slideshow still looks perfect on the screen, but now it feels like a costume she can’t wear.'' (text-colour:#ffc922)[//When you hope no one asks… someone will.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

Sanny opens her slideshow with trembling fingers. She forces herself to go line by line. Delete. Rewrite. Search. Check. Correct. The hours blur together, but slowly the slides start sounding less like a stranger and more like her. She whispers to herself, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Okay… I can save this. Maybe not perfectly, but enough.”//] Then she reaches one section, a paragraph that still sounds too fancy, too confusing, too unlike her voice. She frowns. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“If I don’t understand this… how am I supposed to explain it?”//] [[【Rewrite the confusing section in her own words.】|🟢 1B–2B–3A–4A]] [[【Leave the confusing section untouched.】|🔴 1B–2B–3A–4B]]

Sanny opens the slideshow again, her heart beating too fast. She scrolls quickly, barely letting her eyes land on the text. Everything looks polished. Her stomach tightens. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“That weird Canada ban line… what if someone asks about it?”//] She imagines the teacher pausing mid-presentation: ''“This fact isn’t accurate. Where did you get it?”'' She imagines her classmates whispering: ''“Why does Sanny sound like a completely different person?”'' She imagines herself freezing at the front of the room, unable to explain a project she didn’t actually write. The panic rises, and then she shuts the laptop. Hard. She whispers to herself: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It’ll be fine. It looks good. No one will notice.”//] She chooses hope over honesty, and goes to bed with a knot in her stomach. [[【Fix at least the most dangerous errors.】|🟢 1B–2B–3B–4A]] [[【Just hope for the best.】|🔴 1B–2B–3B–4B]]

Sanny reads the paragraph again. She exhales, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“This has to go.”//] She opens a blank space beside it and starts over, slowly: * one idea at a time * one sentence at a time * checking her class notes * looking up the real example * removing anything that feels fake The new version looks simpler. Less polished. Less “impressive.” But she understands it, and that feels like a relief she didn’t expect. When she finally closes her laptop, she whispers, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It’s not perfect… but it’s mine.”//] During the presentation, Sanny steps to the front of the class. Her hands shake slightly, but her slides feel familiar now. She moves through them carefully. Then she reaches the one she rewrote last night, the section she almost left in AI-speak. The teacher raises a hand. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Sanny, could you explain where this example came from?”//] A week ago, she would’ve frozen. Today, she can breathe. She explains what she found, how she rewrote it, how she checked her notes to be sure it matched what they learned in class. The teacher nods: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Good work correcting that. That’s part of being responsible with these tools.”//] Sanny lets out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She almost let the shortcut take over. But she didn’t. (text-colour:#ffc922)[//You trusted it… then chose to fix it before it failed you.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

Sanny sits hunched over her laptop, exhausted. She’s already fixed so much: * the fake “Canada banned AI” claim * the mismatched examples * the obvious errors the AI made Her slideshow finally looks like something she can stand behind. Almost. At the bottom of the final slide sits one last paragraph, the confusing one. She stares at it, willing it to magically become clearer. It doesn’t. She checks the clock. It’s late. She’s tired. Her brain feels like oatmeal. She whispers, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It’s just one paragraph… maybe it won’t matter.”//] And she closes the laptop. The shortcut slips quietly into place. During the presentation, Sanny starts strong. Her fixed slides make sense. Her explanations flow. She sounds… prepared. Confidence builds in her chest. Then she clicks to the last slide. The untouched paragraph. She reads it aloud, and the words hit the air like puzzle pieces that don’t fit together. She hears her own voice falter. A hand goes up. A classmate asks gently, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Sanny… could you explain that last part in your own words?”//] Her throat tightens. Because she can’t. The silence feels heavy. The teacher steps in softly, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It’s okay, Sanny. This happens. Even one unclear section can make a big difference. Next time, be sure every part reflects your own understanding.”//] Her voice isn’t harsh. Just honest. Sanny nods, cheeks warm, realizing: ''Fixing “almost everything” isn’t the same as fixing the whole thing.'' (text-colour:#ffc922)[//One shortcut slipped through… and it found you.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

The next afternoon, Sanny sits at her desk, staring at the screen. The knot in her stomach is still there. The slideshow looks impressive, but she can’t shake the feeling that the whole thing might fall apart the second someone asks a real question. Her chest tightens. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“…Okay. I can’t leave it like this,”//] she whispers. Not perfect. Not a full rewrite. But she has to fix something. She scrolls slowly this time, not skimming past the parts that scare her. There it is: * the fake “AI banned in Canada” line * a suspicious statistic she never learned * a paragraph so confusing she can’t even summarize it She deletes them one by one. She adds a simple, real explanation from her class notes. She rewrites a few sections in language she actually understands. She even types, (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“AI, can you highlight anything else that looks inaccurate?”//] For the first time all week, she feels a tiny breath of relief. She didn’t fix everything. But she fixed the biggest risks. During the presentation, Sanny stands in front of the class, palms slightly sweaty. She presents slowly, carefully. When she reaches the slide she rewrote last night, the teacher pauses, then smiles. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Nice job correcting this section, Sanny. It’s accurate now.”//] Her shoulders drop just a little. The project still isn’t perfect, some slides sound clunky, a little uneven. But every part she fixed? She can explain. When she sits back down, she realizes: She didn’t avoid every mistake. But she didn’t ignore them either. She took responsibility where she could. (text-colour:#ffc922)[//Responsibility isn’t about never messing up. It’s about fixing what you can.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

Sanny walks into class the next morning with a strange mix of dread and denial swirling in her stomach. The slideshow on her laptop is glossy and professional. She keeps telling herself, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“It looks great. No one will dig too deep.”//] But the knot in her chest stays tight. When her name is called, she forces a smile and walks to the front. She begins presenting. Slide 1. Slide 2. Slide 3. Her voice sounds normal. Her pacing is fine. No one seems suspicious. For a moment, relief washes over her. Maybe… just maybe… she’ll make it through. Then she clicks to Slide 4. The bold sentence appears on the screen: ''“In 2012, Canada banned all AI use in schools for 10 years.”'' The room shifts. A few students whisper. The teacher raises a hand, stopping her mid-sentence. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Sanny… this claim isn’t accurate. Where did you find this information?”//] The question hits like a drop in an elevator. Sanny freezes. Her mind goes completely blank. She didn’t check the fact. She didn’t look for a source. She didn’t write the sentence. She didn’t even question it. Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. She can feel twenty pairs of eyes on her. Her friend tilts her head, confused. A classmate in the back whispers, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Huh?”//] The teacher waits, calm but serious. Sanny’s hands tremble. She finally stammers, (text-colour:#e95624)[//“I… um… the AI wrote that part… I didn’t… I didn’t check it.”//] A heavy silence settles. Not angry. Just disappointed. Quiet and sharp. The teacher sighs softly. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Sanny, this is exactly why you must verify what AI gives you. Let’s talk after class.”//] Sanny nods, staring at her shoes. She feels small. Not because she used AI, but because she trusted it more than herself. ''A tiny choice she ignored the night before became a very public mistake.'' (text-colour:#ffc922)[//Hoping for the best isn’t a strategy… especially with AI.//] [[【Look to the remaining choices. Another route may hold a new twist in Sanny’s journey.】|Intro Scene]]

Sanny reads the line again: (text-colour:#00a38f)[//“In 2012, Canada banned all AI use in schools for 10 years.”//] It still sounds wrong… but also strangely official. She bites her lip. (text-colour:#e95624)[//“If the AI wrote it, maybe it is true?”//] And just like that, she keeps it. She keeps the entire AI-generated essay, even the parts she doesn’t fully understand. For the next few days, she doesn’t think about it much. Until the teacher makes an announcement: (text-colour:#e95624)[//“Before presentations, I’ll be checking some random facts on your slides. And I’ll ask each of you how you used AI in your process.”//] Sanny’s stomach twists hard. Her project is full of: * sentences she didn’t write * ideas she didn’t check * at least one fact she’s pretty sure is fake A quiet panic blooms in her chest. She can’t present like this. She needs a plan… fast. [[【Fix it before it’s too late.】|🟢 1B–2B–3A]] [[【Do nothing and hope for the best.】|🔴 1B–2B–3B]]