I kicked the shipping container, feeling frustrated. All this time we’d been in the game, and we really hadn’t solved anything. Ikumi was still behind an impenetrable wall. And none of us—not the elite hacker, not the AI, and certainly not Lilli or me—could break the code.
I hated feeling so powerless.
“Are you okay, Ian?” Lilli asked, coming over and placing a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m fine,” I muttered.
“You can… tell me if you’re not,” she added. “Remember? We talk about things now.”
“I know,” I said, appreciating her concern. It was nice to know I didn’t have to keep things from her anymore. But still, in this case I didn’t know how she could help. “I’m just frustrated,” I admitted. “This isn’t like Dragon Ops, where we had a clear pathway to our endgame—Atreus’s lair. Here, we have no idea how to break through the firewall. We don’t have a key. Yano is not a powerful enough AI to hack it by himself…”
I trailed off. Wait a second.
Lilli peered at me curiously. “What?” she asked. “What are you thinking?”
A cold chill spun down my spine. And suddenly I wasn’t sure I should say anything. Because if I did, what if they all thought it was a good idea? Then there would be no turning back from it.
“Never mind,” I said. “It’s dumb.”
“I don’t think any ideas are dumb at this point,” Starr pointed out. “We’re out of options. So if you have something, spill.”
I could feel the three of them staring at me. I swallowed hard, past the huge lump that had formed in my throat.
“What if I… asked Atreus?” I blurted out.
“What?” Lilli’s eyebrows shot up. “Ask Atreus? What are you talking about?”
“We need computing power to break through the firewall, right?” I reminded her, the words now coming in a rush. “Atreus is the most powerful computer AI ever created. Surely he could open the gate, right?”
“Maybe,” Lilli replied, her eyes clouded with confusion. “If he were here…”
“He is.”
“You mean in Dragon World? We can’t get back in there without Josh.”
“No. That’s not the real Atreus in there,” I told her. “The real Atreus—well, he’s in this game somewhere. I’ve seen him. Multiple times.”
Lilli frowned. “I thought you said your visions of him weren’t real.”
“Normally they’re not. In the real world, on the soccer fields. Obviously those aren’t Atreus. Which is why I was confused at first in the game. But then, at the top of the trash mountain, I saw him—before I jumped. The spiders saw him, too. He scorched the ground with fire. It was real—I’m sure of it.”
“But why would Atreus be in the game?”
“He followed us in,” I told her. “He’s been following me this whole time—since we left Dragon Ops. Asking if I want to play again.” I shrugged uneasily. “Why do you think I’ve stayed offline all these months? I’ve been petrified I’d turn on a computer and he’d be there waiting for me.”
Lilli bit her lower lip. I could tell she didn’t believe it but didn’t want to accuse me of being crazy. Which kind of hurt, but I understood it. It did sound crazy.
But that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.
I turned to Yano. “Is there a way for you to look for him? Like, see if he’s in the game?”
Yano nodded, closing his eyes. A moment later, he opened them. “By Jove, the kid’s right!” he exclaimed. “That little sneak got himself into the game somehow. He’s up on the trash mountain as we speak. Dragons do like their mountains. Though as for me, if I were to hide out in this game? I’d definitely pick somewhere less predictable. Like that Pool of Piranha, for example. Everyone hates a water level.”
“Okay, so he’s here,” Starr said. “Fine. But what makes you think he’ll help us? He’s a bad guy, right? He’s trying to kill you? It’s not like he’s going to just follow orders.”
“To be fair, all AIs follow orders,” Yano reminded her. “We call them programming.”
“Fine. But Atreus is not programmed to help us.”
“No,” I agreed. “But he is programmed to play a game. What if we tell him the rules of this game have changed?”
“What are you saying, Ian?” Lilli asked, scratching her head.
“Remember back in Dragon Ops? Eugene told us Atreus is able to learn on the fly, to adapt to new situations and self-adjust. That’s what makes him so hard to beat. But it could also work to our advantage. We tell him that yes, we want to play again. But this time the rules have changed. This time we’re on the same side. And to win the game? We have to free Ikumi.”
“You think he’s going to change his entire programming just ’cause we suggest it?”
“It’s not that big of a change if you think about it. Our objective in Dragon Ops was to save Derek. So it would make sense to Atreus that we had a similar quest—but on this level, we have to save Ikumi.”
“Okay,” Lilli declared. “That’s crazy. Like, really crazy. But…” She trailed off.
“It might actually work,” Starr finished, excitement flashing in her eyes. “And hey—we don’t really have any other options, right?”
“Trust me, if we did, I wouldn’t have suggested it. The last thing I want to do is face Atreus again,” I admitted.
For months now, I’d been tormented by Atreus. Trying everything I could to escape him. And now I was suggesting the exact opposite. What if it didn’t work? What if I asked him to play again and he agreed—but only under the old rules?
My mind flashed back to his Crystal Temple. The dragon’s mouth creaking open, flickering with flame.
