Dead Sector 1

Svetlana said Chairman Cashian had rearranged his schedule again just to meet me. I wondered who kept getting pushed back because of me. To meet the emperor of this world, they had to have some serious credentials—probably a noble somewhere, or a corporate director, high-ranking government ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠official. Whatever. Not my problem. The chairman could handle it himself.

I was waiting in the lounge, dressed in my gifted academy uniform. Considering the chairman only met one team a day, did they really need a lounge? But there it was.

They even had announcements for the people waiting. I didn't remember that from seven years ago. Why add it now? Had ImmuneWire grown so massive they could afford luxuries like this?

I munched on the cake Svetlana had left me, pondering these little curiosities. Man, this cake. So fluffy, with fruit syrup bursting inside. The concentrated sweetness from pleasure-crazed 2170 was melting my brain.

Lately, I'd developed a taste for sweets like this. Wasn't worried about diabetes anymore—turns out I had low blood sugar, so I devoured them guilt-free.

By the time I was massacring my fourth slice, V piped up.

'Just implant an insulin chip later.'

People who use their brains need sweets. I was melting away stress with sugar in carefree bliss when someone opened the lounge door.

"Sis, you're he—"

I thought it was Svetlana at first, from the black suit. But our eyes met, and my mood soured instantly. Thought it was my childhood friend, but it felt like spotting a gorilla instead.

"Is that how you react to people? Kinda hurtful."

It was Klaus, the vice secretary-general.

"Why are you in the lounge?"

"I come and go from here all the time. That question feels more natural coming from me. Why are you here?"

"You don't know?"

"Your A-1 clearance isn't just for accessing info—it's also so no one can access yours. Even at the same level."

So he really didn't know why I was here?

"Well, then no need to tell you."

"You're here to see the chairman anyway, right?"

True enough. What else would I be doing in the lounge? This pointless staring contest between Klaus and me. He seemed to sense the vibe and sighed in frustration.

"Neige, you really don't like me, do you? Bitter pill. We've worked together, after all."

"You gave me info that only benefited you. Took everything you wanted behind my back. How do you expect me to trust that?"

"That's how you survive these days."

Klaus plopped down across the table uninvited and started ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spouting whatever he wanted.

"To get on your good side, let me share a life lesson."

"Gonna lecture me? I'm too old for that."

"Made a lot of friends?"

Ignoring my complaint, he kept talking.

"The more friends, the better. They're shields to protect you. Especially since using people is cheaper than buying them."

"Ugh..."

His voice was smooth and gentlemanly as always, but the content repulsed me. Use kids like Clea and Saints as shields? Spouting nonsense so boldly.

I liked the friends I'd made in my twelve years of youth.

"Guess you climbed to your position thanks to friends, huh, Vice Secretary?"

"Why think that?"

"Feels like you wouldn't have any now."

His eyebrow twitched at my jab. I could see him struggling to keep his composure. Pretending not to notice, I deliberately cut into my cake. So sweet.

"...At our level, you have to be picky about friends."

"Oh, right. So you made it up alone without any?"

"Not interested in listening, are you?"

As if. No point arguing, so I repeated myself.

"No friends, huh, Vice Secretary."

"Guess I'll head out. Regretting the detour now."

Klaus stood and left the lounge. Right on cue, Svetlana appeared, and we locked glares. Not a casual stare-down.

Svetlana waited until he was out of sight before moving and speaking to me.

"Did the vice secretary stop by?"

"Yeah."

"Nothing happen?"

"Nothing major... Hey, Svetlana sis, do you like the vice secretary? Be honest."

She pondered my question, then smiled faintly.

"Honestly? I get why he's in that position, but as a person? Not really."

"Same here, kinda."

"Ah..."

Nodding like she understood, she loosened her neck and said,

"The chairman's ready. Let's go, miss."

The reception room was as opulent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as ever, seven years later—just like our first meeting. Svetlana with her puppet module, Chairman Cashian practically reclining in his custom chair. The familiar setup melted my tension away.

"That video you sent? Fascinating."

The chairman broke the ice.

"One question first. How'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you recover it?"

I tapped my temple with my index finger instead of answering. He nodded, like he'd expected it.

"So even this needed you, huh?"

His expression complicated as he pondered, then continued.

"Had them dig up related info right after seeing it. Cover story was research on the survey team's data."

"And?"

"No info on anyone in the video. Paradoxically supports the hypothesis that the Ten-Man Squad really existed."

Per the video, they'd erased all records before leaving. To avoid cyberspace tracking. But I had to point out,

"Doesn't prove they existed, though."

"True. Good researcher mindset."

It was 2170. Faking videos was trivial. This one seemed legit, but no room for complacency.

"To prove it, find another video."

Cashian wiggled his fingers a few times, and Svetlana fetched a USB instantly.

"Check the contents."

I plugged it into my neck port. A map appeared, marking a destroyed nuclear power plant.

"The demon nest you caught. Should send people to dig for leftover data, but... problem. You know why, same as me."

"Can't let more people know?"

"Exactly."

We were proceeding under wrapped pretenses, but how long would that hold? Even inside ImmuneWire wasn't safe. Infighting was fierce, like with Saints—someone would sniff out the chairman's "suspicious research." If our AI secret leaked, it was over. Even this era's emperor wasn't exempt.

"My agents in the real world suited up, ran cables to the plant. New cyberspace bypass route."

New info popped up. A data link from the Erebus Line waiting to connect at the plant. Not linked yet because of demons—it'd be a backdoor for them past Erebus.

"How about you dive in personally via this path and scout inside?"

"Me into the Dead Sector myself?"

"I know it's dangerous. But isn't all our research risky?"

This was the Dead Sector. Radiation fallout hell. Neutron bullets firing everywhere in real time.

"How are Dead Sector surveys usually done?"

"Copy data remotely and control from afar. Grab as much as possible before it collapses, but..."

"Usually the data's trashed anyway."

"Yeah. But with you, it's different."

'V, what do you think? Reuse that spider code for Dead Sector scouting?'

Someone survived the Dead Sector meant there was a way. Whether it worked for me? Had to try. Risk wasn't the only issue—scouting might be pointless.

"If we do it, what's the cover?"

"External pretext?"

"Yeah."

"Academy does field training in various areas. Surveys too—volunteers from brave kids. I'll slot you in. Bring friends."

"My friends to that dangerous place?"

"No accidents in survey training so far. We take precautions. This one's safer than usual—bypass route, elite team, three secretaries assisting you."

Cashian gazed into space, reminiscing.

"Give your friends the experience. Like Noam and me... Find trustworthy ones, research together someday?"

Clea came to mind. She'd stick by me even knowing my secret? With her talent, it'd help hugely. Saints too, and more friends...

"My friends just do the training. I go into the Dead Sector alone."

"Obviously. Do as you like."

If we followed his plan, it'd look risky but be safe. No demons mid-route, pro survey team, secretaries...

"Sounds good."

"That's my proposal. Now, your turn."

"Huh?"

"Figured you'd know... Alphabet. No proposals from them?"

'V, still no reply?'

"Nothing."

"Huh, surprising. Thought they'd beat me to ideas."

"Weird, right?"

Tracking the Ten would jog Alphabet's lost memories. Reveal why it rampaged. A being whose purpose was fixing flaws and evolving—why so quiet?

"Could use its help..."

I sighed in regret. If it cleared demons ahead, it'd be safer. With it silent, just ImmuneWire and V for now.

'Don't believe it.'

'Actually do.'

"Got it. Proceed your way. Oh, before we part—any requests?"

Requests? I thought, then said lightly,

"Stock up on lots of sweet snacks."

"Easy enough."

'Quiet. I have low blood sugar.'

A training volunteer notice went up at the gifted academy. First one since semester start, so lots of interest from classmates. I submitted mine, of course.

"Neige, you sign up?"

"Yeah."

"Me too then."

Clea was in. Tell her it's dangerous and stay out? She'd whack me with a book. Violence first... was this right? Where was my pure Clea?

"I... c-can I come too?"

Saints, now in my class, looked eager. He'd finally joined my "research group" as wished—doing great. Demon-host calculations must help. Similar build to me, solid friend and partner long-term.

"Do what you want."

"Uh... y-yeah, teachers have to approve..."

Won't mention I pulled strings for his approval. Many classmates applied too. Naturally, I got the list from Svetlana separately.

"Me, Clea, Saints first. How many spots left?"

"Could stop there, or up to eight total if you want."

Eight seemed too many... I flipped through the list, checking kids out. Give chances to slum origins? Or profs' picks? Ones with partner potential—work, play, research together. Personality matching mine.

Setting criteria, two stood out.

New United States, 14, Lorenzo, male. 'Wanna do something cool once in life.'

Asia-Pacific Union, 13, Ayaka, female. 'Wanna be the world's best.'

Pure gut feeling. But couldn't shake they were it. Look at motives—ready to conquer the world.

"These two, total five."

"Yes, miss. Five approved."

Both rich kids—hope they're good friends.

Training day. Around the deep dive chairs, we checked faces. Elite six including Svetlana from secretaries. Chairman-picked survey team, four. Five kids including me. Total fifteen solid members.

"Students, no need to tense up. Safest survey ever. Our route..."

A survey staffer explained eagerly. Ride real-world cables via bypass into Dead Sector, sightsee, return. Omitted my solo deep dive inside, naturally.

Saints listened terrified, relaxed at "safe." Clea ignored it all, stuck to me like gum. Did you hear...? The two I picked, Lorenzo and Ayaka, stood awkwardly alone, no acquaintances.

Up close: Lorenzo... cowboy vibe. Rough face, opposite Saints—total manly type. Cigarette later would suit.

Ayaka: "Whoa, noble lady."

Japanese aristocrat image perfect. Lorenzo rich too, but Ayaka screamed it. Not just money—innate aura. Looks only; talk to know real deal.

"Explanation over. Everyone knows how to dive? Let's go."

On survey guy's signal, fifteen scattered into cyberspace. Before us: massive straight data tunnel, weird-looking bus.

"ImmuneWire transfer program. Hop on. Departing now."

He radioed while speaking.

"Mole One. Training launch."

"Roger."

Radio responder was the real-world team at the plant.

"Depart."

"Yes, team lead."

Bus rolled out. Secretaries and survey tense-faced, me and friends excited, toward distant Dead Sector.

Our chairman's "training." Gotta be safe, right?