The districts of Tokyo, previously lit up in the colors of each neighborhood’s favorite professional team, are now lit again in either red and gold or blue and silver. Footage from the first Final replays along the entire sides of skyscrapers. I pass a line of tricked-out supercars on display down one street: Lamborghinis, Bugattis, Porsches, Luminatii Xs (the fastest electric car currently on the market), each of them sporting neon blue or red lights installed along the bottoms of their doors, and rims decorated in the colors of the rival teams. With the NeuroLink, they transform into vehicles that look impossible: cars with virtual wings; cars that look like jets with trails of flames behind them. They’dbeen out during the first Final; now, with the rematch, they’re at it again, the drivers arguing in the streets.
Vendors selling merchandise—hats and shirts, figurines and key chains—have pulled out their leftover wares from the first Final. Their faces look haggard and stressed as they run out of supply and try to bring in more. I glimpse a few figurines of myself among those being sold, my rainbow hair painted onto the toys in globs of gradient colors. It’s a surreal sight.
Eight streaks of laser light suddenly zip past overhead at blistering speed, leaving rainbow-hued lines in the air and causing the crowds on the ground to let out surprised cheers.Drone racing,I think. Like street racing with cars, it’s strictly illegal; these participants must all still be on beta lenses. I’ve even hunted a few drone racers down in the Dark World before and released their info to police. Racers must be feeling pretty bold tonight, but with the cops preoccupied with security for the rematch and breaking up scuffles between rival fans, tonight’s their chance to show off.
People I pass on the streets argue heatedly in favor of either team; entire groups of fans dressed as the teams are actually facing off on street corners, some of them shouting. A few yells come in my direction from clusters of Andromeda cosplayers.
“Why are you dressed as the cheater?” one shouts.
He’s almost immediately answered by calls from Phoenix Riders supporters. “Emika Chen for life!”
I just keep my head lowered and focus on riding my board down the street. At least there are three other girls dressed up in some variation of Emika Chen, and no one seems interested in looking my way for long. Besides—if what Zero said is true, it means I’m now no longer a mark to all the hunters and assassins who had been trying to get to me. Maybe Jax is guarding me from somewhere, but I don’t see her.
By the time I near Tokyo Dome’s amusement park, some of my nerves have faded, and I feel more like myself as I make a smooth turn onto the sidewalk.
A message comes in from Hammie, asking me to accept. I do, and a private virtual image of her appears next to me, looking as real as reality. Her hair is in dozens of braids tonight, with gold and crimson woven into them, and her dark eyelids are coated with glitter. After two days with the Blackcoats, I’m so happy to see her that I almost try to hug her projection.
“You look ready,” I say to her.
Hammie rolls her eyes at me. “If one more person touches my hair, I’m gonna knock their head off.” She points toward the back of the dome. “It’s the tunnel they take us through,” she says, “except there won’t be any guards or fans. Watch for me.”
A golden line appears in my view, guiding me along the path she wants me to take. I nod once, then steer myself in the right direction.
Soon, I’ve made my way close enough to the dome’s sprawling entertainment complex to see the enormous team portraits of each of tonight’s players hovering over each lamppost. The surrounding complex itself—Tokyo Dome City—is teeming with people, just as it had been during the regular championship season. The amusement park’s rides are lit up in different colors, and through my lenses, I can see an entire carousel of landscape options for me to choose from. When I select aFantasyoption, the entire park transforms into a medieval-looking kingdom with the dome as an enormous castle before me. When I select aSpaceoption, the park shifts yet again into a futuristic station on an alien planet with giant rings arching across the night sky.
I hop off my ride and walk into the complex to join the masses. At least it’s easy to get lost in the crowd. People gather aroundrides and shops, their attention focused away from me. I slip through the throngs without a trace.
Lines of people are gathered near the entrance, waiting to check into the stadium. The gold line veers sharply around them. I follow it until I’ve passed the main entrance gates, bustling with fans. Before long, the back gates come into view, heavily barricaded and swarming with guards. Rows of black cars wait in anticipation of the match’s end. Even though tonight’s game is just between the Phoenix Riders and the Andromedans, all the other teams are here to watch. Crowds of fans linger at the edges of the barricades, hoping to be one of the first to peek at the teams when they leave.
“Here,” I murmur to Hammie in a message.
“I see you,” she replies. “When I saygo, climb over the left barricade closest to the gate.” Then she goes dark.
A few minutes later, a riotous commotion suddenly starts at the barricades closest to the back gate. Asher appears, with Hammie and Roshan flanking him on each side, their professional grins on and their hands waving in the air. Behind them come Jackie Nguyen and Brennar Lyons, the replacements for Ren and me. Hammie’s already dressed in Phoenix Rider scarlet, the outfit hugging her curves, and her familiar little smirk is prominent on her face. Asher’s sitting in a new black-and-gold designer wheelchair, and Roshan looks sleek with his head of dark curls carefully combed and his outfit spotless.
The fans burst into shouts and screams; a wave of flashing lights engulfs the team. People rush the barriers closest to them, forcing all the security to hurry to contain them.
I smile at their surprise appearance. Perfect. Over the crowds, Hammie sends me a quick message. “Go.”
As security struggles with the concentration of fans on oneside, I swing myself quietly over the other and dart in toward the gate. A few others try to follow me—which is when Hammie raises the alarm, pointing exaggeratedly at the few fans now trying to come over the barrier. A couple of guards rush to intercept them, and I disappear into the dark recesses of the entryway.
All I can see here are the dim blue outlines of silhouettes. The corridor brings a wave of nostalgia, and I think back to being led out into the arena by a team of bodyguards, my heart pounding in anticipation of the Wardraft. That wasn’t so long ago, but it feels like an eternity.
“Ash,” I message him as I make my way down the familiar halls. “Can you make sure the security cams in the Phoenix Riders’ waiting room are off?” Before every game, the Riders wait in an elegant suite overlooking the expansive arena.
“Already done. Careful of the hall leading to our room, though. They installed some new cams there, and we couldn’t gain access to any outside our suite.”
I shrink further underneath my hoodie. “Got it.”
“Meet us afterward.” He sends me an address. “We’ll talk then.”
Finally, I reach the Riders’ empty waiting room and slide the door shut behind me. The silence in here is punctuated by the muffled noise coming from down below, where fifty thousand fans are cheering as the latest track from BTS thunders from the speakers. I stand before the window, feeling for a second like I’ve gone back in time to when I was still a player. The stadium is completely packed, with more people streaming in to their seats with each passing second. An announcer is recapping the original Final game as footage plays in the enormous 3-D holograms.
A glowing light is already flashing over the suite’s door, calling for the players to head down to the center of the arena. Analystssitting in the top rows broadcast their debates, predicting which team has the best chance of winning.
My attention turns to the private glass box on the other side of the arena. In there, I can see several figures moving around that I identify as Hideo, Mari, and Kenn.
On the ground level, the first members of Team Andromeda have started emerging into the center of the arena. The crowd’s screams rise a deafening octave.
