In other words, we were close. Maybe really close. A thrill of excitement wound through me. I imagined Ikumi’s face when we showed up. How excited she’d be to see us. She must be so scared in there, all alone. But not for long. Not with Lord Wildhammer and Lady Starr on the job!
“Whoa!” Starr cried. “Is that it? Is that the hole?”
I looked up, surprised to see a glittering field of stars rushing toward us at breakneck speed. (Or were we rushing toward them?) They were so bright, it felt like looking into the sun, and I had to close my eyes as we approached. I felt this weird shimmer in my stomach, as if I’d turned upside down, though I was definitely still right side up.
And then for a moment, there was nothing. Just blackness as far as the eye could see. I swallowed hard. The vast emptiness was almost as terrifying as the robot spiders.
“One more moment,” Yano promised. “We’re almost through.”
It was then that I saw the light. Just like when we first entered the game. Just a pinprick at first. Then growing larger and larger and—
BOOM!
We broke through the wormhole, bursting into a new portion of the game. Wow.
“Okay, that was pretty awesome,” Starr declared behind me. “Nice work, robot dragon.”
“I aim to please,” Yano replied. “Now, just three more of those to go.”
I groaned. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
I’m not going to tell you it was a pleasant journey. But we did eventually make it, coming out of our fourth wormhole and into a strange new world. But unlike the worlds we’d seen before—ruined cityscapes, zombie-infested forests—this world seemed to be made entirely out of stars. As if we’d been dropped into outer space or the middle of a gigantic Christmas display. Everywhere we looked, there were dazzling, softly lit sparks of illumination that you just wanted to scoop up like piles of snow and scatter to the wind.
“So beautiful,” Starr whispered. And she wasn’t wrong. The whole place was just magical, and there was even music playing in the background. Soft and ethereal, like the kind of music you’d hear on my mom’s yoga videos. It filled me with a sense of peace and tranquility.
“What is this place?” I asked. “Another unfinished level?”
“It’s a prison,” Yano replied gravely. “Ikumi’s prison.”
“If this is a prison, I’d love to see a castle,” Starr marveled.
As if on cue, a great wall rose up in front of us, seeming to come out of nowhere. It was made of what looked like sheets of shining metal, climbing high into the sky until it met a huge dome of more sparkling stars. At the front was a translucent gate, flanked on either side by huge twin statues—at least forty feet tall—of Rocky the Robot.
Whoa.
Yano came down for a landing in front of the gate. Up close I could see it had no handles, no doorknobs. Its surface was sleek and slick, as if it were a mirror of some kind, and I could see my reflection peering at me as I slid off the dragon’s back and approached it.
“How do we get through it?” I asked aloud. For some reason I knew Ikumi must be on the other side of this gate. But how to get to her?
Before anyone could answer, the mirror rippled. Like the surface of a quiet pond disturbed by someone throwing a stone. My reflection vanished. And in its place?
Ikumi.
Oh my gosh, it was Ikumi! The real Ikumi.
She looked different than when I’d seen her last. Her hair was no longer wildly colored, but rather jet-black and hanging down her back in twin braids. She was dressed plainly, too, in a simple white T-shirt and blue jeans, which seemed super out of place in this futuristic game. Also, there was no longer glitter spinning in her pupils. Instead, her eyes were large and dark… and worried.
“Ikumi!” I cried, running toward her. I slammed into the mirror headfirst, bouncing backward and almost losing my balance in the process. Rubbing my sore forehead, I squinted at the gate. Was it like a TV screen or something? Or was Ikumi really there, really standing behind the gate, looking out at me?
“Ikumi!” I cried again, desperate for her to hear me. “Mirai?” I corrected myself with a whisper, using her real-life name. The one she only revealed once she realized she could trust me.
Her eyes shifted, falling onto me. Then they widened, her mouth dropping to a large O. She pressed her palm flat up against the gate. With trembling fingers, I matched her hand with my own.
“Is that her?” Starr asked, coming up to stand next to me. “Is that Hiro’s daughter?”
I nodded, my eyes still glued on Ikumi. “We’re here to rescue you,” I told her, wondering if she could hear me. At least maybe she could read my lips?
But she only looked at me with confusion on her face. She clearly didn’t understand.
Rage flared inside me. How could someone do this to her? She was good. She was kind and brave and selfless—ready to sacrifice herself to save her friends! And now this monster Admiral Appleby had taken her away? Stolen her freedom? Put her in a cage? And for what? Some stupid, selfish plan to live forever? Or something else entirely?
Whatever it was, it wasn’t fair. Ikumi had suffered too much already.
I slammed my fist against the glass. Over and over again. Ikumi watched me from the other side, her sad face transforming into one of horror. She stepped back a little, as if afraid.
