INFORMATION WANTS TO BE FREE

We step inside. I can hear the pulsing rhythm of my heart in my ears, the blood pumping in time to the soundtrack playing around me, no doubt some stolen track from an unreleased album. Fog hugs the ground. The avatars here are as twisted and strange as ever, a weird mix of people with random, forgettable faces, and users who have remade themselves with monstrous features.

But what makes me freeze is the sight of the glass cylinder looming in the center of the cavernous space. The assassination lottery looks like it always does, with its list of names in scarlet letters and the current bid beside each one. Up on the higher deck and looking down at the list are assassins and hunters carefully analyzing the list.

What looks different is the name at the top of that list.

Emika Chen | Current Offer: 5,625,000

No wonder everyone’s after me: 5,625,000 notes for my assassination.

“They can’t see you,” Zero says, cutting through my paralyzing terror. When I glance at him, he gives me a simple nod. I can’t see any part of his expression behind his dark helmet, of course, but his body is turned vaguely toward me, giving me the sense that he’s protecting me.

In spite of everything, I feel oddly safe beside him. It’s hard to believe that, not long ago, I’d first seen Zero in this very same space as my enemy, the bounty I was hired to hunt down by Hideo. Now the bounty has reversed.

Betting on the Final rematch is happening in another corner of the space, while others are clustered in a large crowd around the current Darkcross game, throwing amounts of money around at an increasingly frantic pace. Over the onlookers is a banner showing the match, followed by how much is at stake.

MIDNIGHT RAIDERS vs. HELLDOGS

Current Odds 1:4

“New game!” a voice calls out. An automated announcer is speaking now, its androgynous voice echoing around us. “Match ends when a player takes their opponent’s Artifact. Bets may be placed two minutes before the game’s opening call and can continue until the official start.”

I look at the chaotic audience. All of the patrons of the official Warcross teams are public figures with deep pockets, each one well-known. But the identities of the patrons of the Dark World teams are a mystery. Rumor has it that they are mafia bosses, gang leaders, and drug lords. None of them are stupid enough to publicly sponsor a team—but one Dark World team can earn double the profits of the Phoenix Riders. No wonder the teams down here can recruit such talented players. Some of them are even ex-Warcross professionals, those whose reflexes can’t keep up with the younger, upcoming stars. If you don’t mind playing an illegal game that could get you arrested at any time, then you’ll be showered with riches far beyond that of a legit, official Warcross player in the real world.

Of course, as with everything else down here, playing Darkcross comes with its own unique risks. Unlike Warcross played legally, where the only consequence of losing a game is your money and your ego . . . the patrons of Dark World teams are a dangerous crowd to disappoint. If you lose enough Darkcross games, you might see your own name up on the assassination lottery list. I remember one Darkcross player who was found hanging in his garage, his body bloodied and broken, and another who was pushed in front of a train.

“Several teams lost their players after the algorithm triggered,” Zero goes on as we move to a different part of the den. Here, the room is darker and emptier, some distance away from the others and partially separated by a film of light that acts like a curtain. “Of course, this has just made the betting all the more exciting and unpredictable.”

“Is that what we’re down here for? The games?” I look at him. “I thought you were going to show me how to break into Hideo’s mind.”

“We are.” Zero nods. “And I am.”

“How?”

“We recently uncovered a glitch in Hideo’s Link system. The same system that allows two people to communicate through their thoughts. The glitch only appears if you and I are Linked during a game of Warcross.”

I suck in my breath. “What kind of glitch?”

“During a regular Link session, you have to get permission from the other person in order to access any of their thoughts. But during Warcross, with the right hack, this glitch allows you into that person’s mind and memories without their consent.”

A glitch that lets you into your Linked partner’s mind. I imagine a stranger’s cold claws piercing my thoughts and memories, me powerless to stop it. How in the world did Zero find a glitch this huge?

Zero smiles at my confusion. “Even the biggest companies in the world aren’t that secure,” he reminds me.

No wonder we’re here. And no wonder Zero has wanted to Link with me. I stare up into his black helmet, suddenly feeling very exposed.

Zero brought me here to play a game of Warcross while Linked.

A slight buzzing tickles my ears. It’s the same sound I’d heard back during the Warcross championships, when Zero first interrupted my underwater game with the Phoenix Riders. A clicking sound makes me look down. I’m now encased in dark armor of my own, crimson-red plates in contrast to Zero’s black. No doubt that if I were looking at myself, I would see my face hidden behind a helmet.

Then the Pirate’s Den vanishes, and I find myself standing in a Warcross world.

I’m going to play against Zero, one on one.

8

A one-on-one game of Warcross is called a Duel. It’s the same game as Warcross itself, except without a team to back you up—and without a team, everything falls onto your shoulders. You are the Captain, Architect, and Thief. You are the Fighter and Healer.

I’ve watched Duels in the Dark World before, but I’ve never played in one. And down here, where screwing up in a game could endanger my life, I’m not feeling good about my chances.

Already, a crowd of gamblers has gathered around, and an announcer has started to take bets for and against each of us. I find myself wondering if anything will happen to me if I lose this game. Just how much do I trust Zero to demonstrate getting into my mind? What if he damages my account permanently? It seems like a lot of trouble to bring me here just for that . . . but it’s hard to be sure of anything with him.

Our Duel’s virtual world is a night setting. Sheets of stars sweep the skies, while streaks of pink and purple linger at the horizon, an image of the minutes right after sunset. Hundreds of giant glass archways curve through the air, each of them reflecting the light. When I look down at my feet, I realize with a start that I’m not standing on solid ground at all—but on the back of a creature. A moving creature.

A dragon. As long as a whale.

Its scales are illuminated with glowing neon stripes, and its wings are haloed in gold light, as if it were a robot. And when I look closer, I realize that the scales beneath my feet aren’t organic, but metallic.

I fall to my knees as the beast arches its enormous neck and lets out a column of fire from its mechanical jaws, outlining the clouds below us. Its shriek echoes across the world.

“Welcome to the Dragon’s Nest.” A voice reverberates overhead. Familiar, glowing power-ups materialize in the air, lighting up the evening with their colors—and at the same time, a selection of weapons appears in front of me.

Rope. Knives. Dynamite. Gun. Bow and arrows. Shield.

It’s a selection of the weapons that each Warcross team player would have, and I’m allowed to choose three of them to hang on my belt. A timer counts down above it. I have ten seconds. My mind whirls, and I grab for what’s familiar to me. The rope. The dynamite. Then I remember that I can’t just be an Architect—this isn’t a game where Roshan can protect me. So I put back the dynamite and grab for the shield and the bow and arrows right before the selection vanishes.

I clip on the silver shield armguards, then swing the arrows over my back and loop the bow across my chest. The gun might be useful, but if I’m on a dragon, then Zero probably will be, too, and I might need a way to swing up onto his. Rope and a bow will be my best bet.

My dragon swoops toward the closest glass arch to us. I look around for Zero, but see him nowhere. Even as a chant goes up from the Blackcoat spectators, indicating the start of the game, I’m still gliding alone through the air. Reflections from the arches throw me off. I whirl, thinking Zero’s behind me, but there are only more clouds.

“Game! Set! Fight!”

Suddenly, an enormous shadow lands on top of the arch right over us. A web of cracks jolts across the glass with a deafening splinter.

My head jerks up—and I see him there, Zero, on the back of a dragon with scales as black as a rain-soaked raven, its metal spikes shining with edges of dark silver light. His dragon hisses at me, then brings its wings down in one mighty swoop. The glass arch shatters into a thousand pieces.

I throw myself against my dragon’s shoulders and cross my forearms to activate my shield. The circular blue field bursts out from my armguards as glass shards pour down on me. The impact nearly knocks me flat. I flinch as if the weight were real.

[Player B] | Life: -20%

If it weren’t for my shield, a hit like that would have easily slashed my life bar in half. And in a real Warcross game, giving my opponent the advantage of a surprise attack like that before the starting call would be impossible. But here, cheats are commonly written in, sometimes as a game progresses live.

When is Zero going to show me the hack?