Interrogations.
More news cameras than I’ve ever seen in my life.
I spend the next couple of weeks in a haze of activity, floating through all of it like I’m living inside another reality. The news—that Hideo had been using the NeuroLink to control minds and wills, alter opinions, and prevent people from doing what they want—has engulfed the world like a storm. News stations broadcast clips of a handcuffed Hideo, still limping from his side injury, being led away by the police. Tabloids print front covers showing Hideo’s stoic face as he enters and leaves a courthouse. Thousands of sites display screenshots of mind palettes that the algorithm generated and controlled, of the data that Henka Games had been gathering and the way they had been studying the minds of criminals and non-criminals.
Kenn is arrested, too, along with Mari Nakamura. The NeuroLink shuts down as authorities investigate every corner of Henka Games. The media has been trying to reach me every day, searching for more information to piece together this growing, unwieldy puzzle. But I don’t speak to any of them. I only give testimony to the police.
It feels weird to be in a world where the NeuroLink is no longer accessible—that means no overlays, no colorful icons or virtual faces, no symbols hovering over buildings and gold lines drawn on the ground to guide you. Everything is grittier and grayer and more tangible again.
And yet...
In spite of everything I’d seen and all I knew about what was wrong with the NeuroLink—I’m sad without it. Hideo had created something that changed all of our lives, often for the better. It was a creation that had probably saved my life. And yet, here I am.
Maybe I should feel like a hero. But I don’t. It’s always easier to destroy than to create.
SUMMERHASARRIVEDin full on the day I finally pull up in front of the Supreme Court of Japan.
It’s an imposing structure of rectangular concrete blocks, and for the past few weeks, the grounds in front of its entrances have been jammed with crowds, all eager to catch a glimpse of someone they know. Humidity hangs heavy in the air. When I emerge from the car, the spectators’ cameras go wild. I just keep calm, my sunglasses propped against my face.
There’s only one reason why I’m at the courthouse today. It’s to hear Jax give her testimony.
Inside, the space is grand and quiet, filled with nothing butthe tense buzz of low voices. I sit in silence at the front of the main chamber. It’s odd, being in such an orderly place after everything that has happened. There are the Supreme Court justices in their black robes, all fifteen of them, sitting in severe form at the front of the chamber. There are those in the audience, an unusual mix of ambassadors and representatives from almost every government in the world. Then, there’s me. A smattering of people from Henka Games. Most prominent among them is Divya Kapoor, the newly appointed CEO of the company. The board has wasted no time putting in new leadership.
I take my seat beside Tremaine. He is still in recovery from his injury, and his head is still wrapped in gauze—but his eyes are as sharp as ever as he nods at me. We don’t say a word to each other. There’s nothing to say that we don’t already know.
As we look on, a girl with short, pale hair is led out in handcuffs to a box at the front of the chamber. Her lips are rosy today instead of their usual dark color, and without a gun at her waist to fiddle with, she can only press her hands repeatedly against each other. She doesn’t look in our direction. Instead, her gaze flickers briefly to where Hideo sits with his lawyers near the front of the room.
I look at him, too. He may be in handcuffs today, but he’s still dressed in a flawless suit—and if we weren’t at the Supreme Court to listen to his criminal case, I would think he was still standing in his headquarters or lifting his glass to toast the entire world, his secrets buried behind his eyes.
But today, he sits quietly. Jax is about to testify against him and reveal everything that the Blackcoats knew about his algorithm that made them target him.
The thought forces me to tear my eyes away from him. I’ve fought all my life to fix things—but now that we’re finally here,now that justice is going to be handed down, I suddenly feel like I haven’t fixed anything at all. None of this feels right. Taylor, the one who had caused all of this to happen, is already dead. Jax, who has never known another life, will go to prison for the assassinations she was trained since childhood to carry out. Zero—the last remnant of Sasuke Tanaka, the boy who was stolen—has vanished. I’ve brought down the NeuroLink, the epicenter of modern society, the cornerstone of my entire youth.
And Hideo, the boy who became the most powerful man in the world for the sake of the brother that was taken from him, who had done all the wrong things for all the right reasons, is sitting here today, ready to face his fate.
The testimony starts. Jax speaks in a measured voice as questions for her start to add up, one after another after another.
Was Dana Taylor your adopted mother? How old were you when she adopted you?
What was your relationship with Sasuke Tanaka?
How often did he speak of Hideo Tanaka?
Even now, she stays calm. I guess after everything she’s been through, a trial is almost anticlimactic.
Finally, one of the justices asks her about Hideo.
What did Hideo intend to do with the NeuroLink?
Jax looks directly at him. He looks back at her. It’s as if, between them, there is some lingering ghost of Sasuke in the air, the same boy who had upended both of their lives. The words Jax had once shouted desperately at us during our escape in the institute now come back to me in full. I can’t tell what emotions go through her now, in this setting, if it’s hate or rage or regret.
“Hideo’s algorithm was never supposed to control the population,” Jax says. Her voice echoes from her place at the front of the chamber.
A murmur ripples through the crowd. I blink, exchanging a look with Tremaine to make sure I hadn’t misheard something. But he looks as bewildered as I feel.
“The Blackcoats were the ones who wanted to abuse the NeuroLink,” Jax goes on, “to turn it into a machine capable of harming people, of turning them against themselves or others. That was always the goal of the Blackcoats, and Taylor was driven to make sure we followed through with this. You already have heard what she did to me, and to Sasuke Tanaka.” She hesitates, then clears her throat. “Hideo Tanaka used the algorithm to search for his lost brother.”
I listen in a haze, hardly able to process what I’m hearing. Jax isn’t here to make sure Hideo is punished for failing to protect his brother. She’s here to protect Hideo with her testimony against the Blackcoats.
