Dragons vs. Robots

when we were in the game. At first we assumed she was playing virtually from back in her home in California. It wasn’t until much later that we learned the real Mirai had died at the age of twelve from an autoimmune disease. And her father, in his grief, had made a digital copy of her brain and uploaded it to the game. Which left her alive—in a sense—but also trapped alone in a simulation she wasn’t allowed to leave. When we found her, she was desperate to escape the prison her father had put her in.

Not that Hiro had meant to be cruel. He loved his daughter. He wanted to protect her. But in the end, we convinced him to let her go. She needed her freedom, too. Just like the rest of us. And so he’d let her out of the game, allowing her to roam the cloud, free.

I thought back to the last time I’d seen her. I was still playing games at the time, and she’d found me in Fields of Fantasy, thanks to our old AI guide, the little dragon Yano, who was now her full-time companion. She’d looked so happy. So content. It made me happy, too. To know at least something good had come out of the nightmare we’d lived through. At least she had found her happily-ever-after.

Now, if I could just find my own. Or at least a new normal I could live with.

I shook my head, trying to return to the present. Pressing my ear to the door, I strained to listen to my uncle. “Has he used his credit cards? Checked into any hotels?” Uncle Jack was asking. He paused, then added, “Have there been any ransom notes?”

I froze, a shiver tingling down my spine. Ransom notes? But that would mean…

Had Hiro been kidnapped? But that was crazy!

Or was it? After all, his company owned a lot of technology that other companies would kill to obtain—literally. Something we’d found out firsthand when the company who made Camelot’s Honor sabotaged Dragon Ops and trapped us inside. They had wanted to make the park seem unsafe and delay its opening so they could catch up with their own augmented reality theme park. And they didn’t care that they almost killed us in the process.

Was Hiro’s life now in danger—as ours had once been?

I pushed away from the door, dashing down the hall. I had to find Lilli. Now.

“What’s going on?” Lilli demanded as I dragged her outside into the backyard. “Is it really so important you had to interrupt me mid-dessert dinner? I’d just found a whole Oreo in my ice cream, I’ll have you know. With the cream still in the middle and everything!”

I shot her a warning look. “Just pretend you’re teaching me soccer, okay?”

“Um, okay.” She looked around. “Though we don’t have a soccer ball, so kinda tough.”

“Football, then. Karate. Whatever. Just act casual!”

“You mean like the opposite of the way you’re acting right now?”

I glanced back at the house, half expecting weird men in black with dark sunglasses to be peering out the window, ready to take us away because we knew too much. But, of course, there was no one there. Aunt Robin was still in the kitchen. Derek was still in his bedroom. Uncle Jack was still in his office, likely still discussing the disappearance of the most important person in the video game industry. No one was concerned with us.

“How’s this? Hi-yah!”

Lilli struck what I assumed was meant to be a karate pose, though truthfully it looked more like the start of a TikTok dance. I rolled my eyes and grabbed her hand, dragging her to the back of the yard. Once there, I sat down on one of the swings from Derek’s old weather-beaten playscape. Lilli joined me, plopping into the next one over.

“So…?” she asked, turning to me. “You going to spill or what?”

“It’s about Hiro,” I said, keeping my voice low, just in case. “Hiro Takanama.”

She frowned, looking from left to right, as if afraid we’d be overheard. Talking about Hiro was just as forbidden as talking about Dragon Ops, after all. But in this case, it couldn’t be helped.

“He’s disappeared,” I whispered. “I heard Uncle Jack talking about it on the phone.”

Lilli’s eyebrows rose. Now I had her full attention. “Are you serious?”

I quickly related what I’d overheard. She listened attentively, her brow creasing more and more until I’d finished. “That’s awful,” she said. “Do you really think someone kidnapped him?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I mean, it’s possible, right? He’s kind of a big deal. Maybe they want his Dragon Ops secrets. You know, like more sabotage.”

“Do you think Ikumi knows?” Lilli asked after a pause. “That her father is missing, I mean. Do you think someone would think to tell her?”

I frowned. I hadn’t thought of that.

“Probably not,” I said. “Especially since most people assume she’s dead. After all, that’s why Hiro kept her in the game in the first place, right? He was worried that if people knew about her digital life, it could put her in danger.”

I trailed off, a horrible thought coming to me. What if that was the real reason someone had kidnapped Hiro? Not for Dragon Ops. But for his brain emulation tech—the process through which he gave his dying daughter eternal life online. How valuable would something like that be? It had to be worth billions. Maybe trillions. Basically we were talking immortality here. Priceless.

My stomach squirmed. This could be worse than we thought.

Lilli jumped off her swing. “She needs to know,” she said, clearly following my line of thought. “I mean, she could be in danger, too. Even if not, it’s her dad, after all. And maybe she can even help track him down. She has the entire internet at her disposal, right? She could hack security cameras, access facial recognition software. Data mine from his online profile. If anyone can help find him, it would be her.”

I lay