In the glass-walled offices of PIKTO, a B2B SaaS company on Montreal’s South Shore specializing in customer understanding and complex journeys, Christmas Eve was bathed in a cozy atmosphere. The decorations were still sparkling, cups of hot chocolate were cooling on the collaboration tables, and the team had just left the premises.
Maya, chief strategist, was finishing up one last document. Outside, snow was falling silently. Everything seemed calm. Then she looked up.
The mural where the personas usually appeared was empty. No more silhouettes. No more text. And no more traces. Maya tapped her fingertips on the interactive screen. No effect.
The light in the hallway flickered for a second. A string of lights shivered. The office seemed to hold its breath. A calm voice rose behind her.
“You’ve finally noticed we’re gone.”
Maya spun around. A figure looked human… but not quite.
In the dim light of the office, Maya noticed something strange:
a soft vibration beneath the skin of this… thing, like a thread of code that was still breathing.
It was neither a ghost nor a hallucination. It was something else.
A strange being, born halfway between human and artificial intelligence. Fragments of data, emotions, interviews, and algorithms recomposed into a living presence.
“I am The Decision Maker,” it said.
Maya stared at it, horrified and fascinated at the same time.
“You… you’re a persona. You can’t be real.”
He smiled softly.
“You drew us so accurately that perhaps it was time for us to become more than just profiles.”
A loud noise echoed through the server room. The Decision Maker glanced patiently toward the corridor.
“The Technical Influencer. He always starts without warning.”
The Christmas quest for personas
They walked together through the offices all empty fot the Christmas break, which were bathed in a warm, dim light. But the place seemed alive, as if the objects were silently watching them. A door swayed gently, as if moved by an invisible breath.
In the server room, another humanoid, younger, was analyzing bright connections.
“I’m checking how we feel,” he said simply.
Maya was speechless.
“How… you are feeling?”
He looked up, almost surprised that she had finally asked the question.
“When you describe us, you define our needs, our motivations, our irritants. But you often forget our voice. Tonight, we decided it was time for you to hear it. “
An object fell in the adjacent workshop. Maya jumped. The Decision Maker smiled.
“The End User. Always in the wrong place for the right reasons.”
In the workshop, there was yet another humanoid. This one was looking at a coffee machine with interest.
“You never listen to me,” he said, turning around.
“You finish my thoughts before I’m done. I’d like to finish a thought without a KPI cutting me off.”
Maya laughed nervously.
“I’m dreaming… It’s fatigue.”
The Decision Maker replied calmly:
“You’ve been dreaming for a long time. Tonight, you (daydreamers) wake up.”
The personas assembly
Back in the co-creation room, there were even more humanoids. The latter appeared with an almost choreographed discretion.
The Operations Manager.
A Field Coordinator.
The Security Specialist.
The Circumspect Buyer.
All together.
All strangely human.
Maya took a deep breath.
“What do you want?”
The Decision Maker pointed to the empty mural.
“For you to get back to basics. You created us to understand, but sometimes you use us to jump to conclusions.”
The Operations Manager placed a soothing hand on the table.
“We don’t want to be boxes or diagrams. We want to be your human reference points. Your lanterns (lights in the night). Not your shortcuts.”
A dense, gentle silence filled the room. Then the wall screen lit up on its own. A new mural appeared.
Simpler.
More precise.
And more accurate.
Maya put her hand to her mouth.
“It’s beautiful…”
The Decision Maker replied:
“It’s yours. We just reminded you of what you already knew.”
The whole team already knew that personas don’t live in the documents where they are locked away. They inhabit the silences of meetings, the doubts that arise during a call, the timid impulses of a project searching for its path. Sometimes they hide between two numbers, behind an objection, under a barely audible hesitation.
They already knew that a persona is never a portrait. It is a presence. A voice waiting to be heard, welcomed, understood beyond words.
And that, when you take the time to really listen to it, it is not a strategy that becomes clear…
The magic returns when we get back to basics
The personas slowly backed away. Their silhouettes began to dissolve in a soft, almost warm light, like a discreet dawn in the heart of the office.
The Technical Influencer paused for a moment and looked at Maya.
“You searched for us in the data for a long time. Tonight, you found us by listening.”
The End User approached in turn.
“When you take the time to really hear us, we no longer need to insist. We are already with you.”
The Decision Maker was the last to speak. His voice was lower, more human than ever:
“What you are building is not just a strategy. It is a connection. And a connection, when cared for, can even transcend silence.”
Maya felt a lump in her throat. She wanted to respond… but no words came out.
A soft breeze swept through the room.
The lights flickered one last time.
They disappeared.
The mural remained.
Clearer.
Simpler.
And more deeply human.
Maya approached the wall and placed her hand on the screen, which had become warm to the touch.
And, in a quivering voice, she whispered:
“I heard you. I promise I will never forget again.”
Back to the office
Back from the holidays, on a Monday in January, the office fills with laughter, coats still damp with melted snow, and the smell of hot coffee. On the large table, a box of persona-shaped cookies was already waiting. No one knew who had put it there. No one dared ask.
A document was posted on the wall:
“Our 2026 personas: back to basics.”
Some stopped to read it.
Others smiled without really knowing why.
But everyone felt something rare.
A sense of calm.
A sense of clarity.
And also, a subtle feeling that something important had just fallen back into place.
Like a discreet reminder that, even in a world of dashboards, numbers, and performance, people remain the most valuable data.
And that sometimes, magic chooses the most unexpected places to settle.
Have yourselves a merry little Christmas and happy holidays! From the PIKTO team… and ExoB2B.
