Nakano Broadway, Tokyo, Japan
January 16th, 2077 - 14:23 JST
Aiba's body was 47% data and 53% meat, and right now, the data half was screaming.
The sensation wasn't pain exactly—pain required functioning nerve endings, and those had been partially converted to information streams during the EDEN Syndrome incident two years ago. No, this was something worse: the digital equivalent of phantom limb syndrome, except instead of missing an arm, Aiba was missing chunks of her fundamental existence that occasionally tried to reconstitute themselves from corrupted memory fragments.
She steadied herself against the railing of Nakano Broadway's third-floor walkway, forcing her vision to stabilize. The world kept flickering between physical reality and digital overlay—AR advertisements pulsing with aggressive color, Net traffic flowing through nearby routers as visible data streams, and beneath it all, the vast churning presence of EDEN's network infrastructure like an ocean that threatened to pull her under if she lost focus.
Breathe. You're still human. Mostly.
"Aiba-san, are you alright?" Kyoko Kuremi's voice cut through the digital noise. The detective stood a few paces away, her expression professionally neutral but her eyes sharp with concern. "That's the third episode this hour."
"I'm fine," Aiba lied, straightening up. Her Digimon partner—a small Terriermon that existed in the space between digital and physical—materialized on her shoulder, its long ears drooping with worry only she could see. "Just... EDEN fluctuations. They're getting worse."
Kyoko's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. As both Aiba's employer at Kuremi Detective Agency and someone who'd witnessed the original EDEN Syndrome outbreak, she understood better than most what "fluctuations" meant. People falling into comas. Consciousness torn from bodies and lost in digital space. The slow erosion of the boundary between human and data.
"The cases are increasing," Kyoko said quietly, pulling out a tablet that projected holographic case files. "Fourteen new EDEN Syndrome victims in Tokyo alone this week. Thirty-seven nationwide. And those are just the reported cases—Kamishiro Enterprise is suppressing information to avoid panic."
Aiba's partially-digital eyes scanned the data with inhuman speed, processing information faster than should be possible for organic thought. Names. Dates. Medical records. A pattern emerged that made her half-physical stomach clench.
"They're all heavy EDEN users," she murmured. "At least eight hours daily in full-dive VR. And they all reported seeing... anomalies before the syndrome manifested."
"What kind of anomalies?"
"Entities that shouldn't exist in EDEN's architecture." Aiba pulled up surveillance footage from one victim's last session—a teenager named Haruki who'd been investigating reports of a "digital ghost" in EDEN's entertainment sector. The footage showed normal virtual space, then—
—a tear in reality. Not a glitch. Not corrupted data. Something physically eating the digital environment, leaving emptiness that hurt to look at even through recorded playback.
"Eaters," Terriermon whispered in Aiba's ear, his voice carrying a weight of ancient digital knowledge. "They're spreading."
Kyoko couldn't hear the Digimon—like most humans, she lacked the neural interface modifications that allowed Aiba to perceive entities that existed primarily as data. But she saw Aiba's expression change and made the correct inference.
"Your... partner sees something?"
"Something that's consuming EDEN users from the inside out." Aiba closed the footage, her hybrid mind already calculating vectors, infection patterns, probable origins. "Kyoko-san, I need to go into EDEN. Full dive. If I can track one of these entities back to its source—"
"Absolutely not." Kyoko's tone was sharp with a concern that almost felt maternal. "You're already half-digitized. One bad encounter with whatever's causing this, and you could lose what's left of your physical coherence."
"And if I don't, how many more people end up as vegetables?" Aiba met her employer's gaze steadily. "This is what you hired me for. Investigation. Resolution. Being half-digital is an advantage here, not a liability."
Kyoko was quiet for a long moment, her eyes distant. When she finally spoke, her voice carried an odd weight. "There are forces at work here that go beyond simple malware or network corruption. Kamishiro Enterprise has been researching consciousness digitization for fifteen years. EDEN wasn't just meant to be a virtual reality platform—it was always intended as a prototype for transferring human consciousness into digital space permanently."
Aiba felt something cold crystallize in her chest. "You're saying the EDEN Syndrome isn't a bug. It's a feature."
"I'm saying that powerful people have invested heavily in making the line between human and data as blurry as possible. And now something has emerged that exploits that exact vulnerability." Kyoko's expression hardened. "Be careful, Aiba-san. You're not just hunting anomalies. You're stumbling into a conspiracy that spans corporations, governments, and organizations that officially don't exist."
Before Aiba could respond, her neural interface spiked with an incoming priority alert—EDEN network traffic, but routed through channels she'd set up specifically to monitor Kamishiro Enterprise's internal communications. Her hybrid consciousness parsed the encrypted data with inhuman efficiency:
CONFIDENTIAL - KAMISHIRO EXECUTIVE MEMO
TO: Kishibe Rie (CEO)
FROM: Research Division Gamma
RE: Cross-Continental Data Sharing Protocol
The Arasaka partnership proceeds as planned. Their Relic 3.0 technology shows remarkable compatibility with our EDEN infrastructure. Preliminary tests confirm that consciousness transfer protocols can be synchronized between American and Japanese networks.
Note: Increased Eater activity may be related to unintended resonance between EDEN and Arasaka's experimental NET architecture in Night City. Recommend limiting deep-dive sessions until we better understand the phenomenon.
Additional note: Our research partners at Zetatech have expressed interest in neural interface integration. Their Sandevistan technology could provide the missing component for true real-time consciousness digitization.
Aiba's mind—both the human and digital portions—went into overdrive. Arasaka. Night City. Consciousness transfer. The pieces were connecting in ways that painted a picture far larger than a simple EDEN malfunction.
"Kyoko-san," she said slowly, "do we have any contacts in Night City? Americas division?"
"Why?"
"Because whatever's happening here isn't isolated to Tokyo. Kamishiro has partners overseas, and if they're all working on consciousness digitization..." Aiba pulled up a map showing reported EDEN Syndrome cases, then overlaid it with known Kamishiro corporate connections. "Look. Tokyo, San Francisco, London, Seoul—every major city with EDEN infrastructure. But there's a spike that doesn't fit the pattern."
Her finger landed on Night City.
"No EDEN terminals there—the city uses a different network architecture. But Kamishiro's internal traffic shows massive data exchanges with an entity called... 'Night Corp.' And another one called 'Blume Corporation.'"
Kyoko's expression shifted subtly. If Aiba hadn't spent two years learning to read micro-expressions with her enhanced perception, she might have missed it—but there it was. Recognition. And something else. Resignation?
"Aiba-san, what I'm about to tell you stays between us." Kyoko's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I'm not just a detective. I'm also... let's call it an observer for an old organization. Very old. We've been tracking corporate attempts to weaponize human consciousness for a long time. Longer than you'd believe."
"An organization?" Aiba's hybrid mind raced through possibilities. "Like a government intelligence division?"
"Like nothing the government officially acknowledges." Kyoko pulled out a small data chip—analog storage, impossible to hack remotely, the kind of paranoid security measure that suggested serious conspiracy. "This contains contacts in Night City. People who might be able to help you understand the bigger picture. But Aiba-san, understand this: once you start pulling this thread, you can't put it back. You'll be putting yourself in the crosshairs of powers that consider human life an acceptable R&D expense."
Aiba took the chip, her partially-digital fingers registering its weight with perfect precision. "I'm already in the crosshairs. The moment EDEN Syndrome turned me into... this." She gestured at herself—a body that was simultaneously flesh and data, human and something else. "I've been living on borrowed existence for two years. If I can use that to stop what's happening to others, then maybe there's a point to still being here."
Terriermon nuzzled her cheek, his digital warmth the only comfort her hybrid existence could fully process. "You're not alone, Aiba. We'll face this together."
Kyoko's expression softened slightly. "There's something else you should know. About me. About why I'm really helping you."
The detective's form flickered—not a glitch, but something intentional. For a moment, her outline was overlaid with something else. Something armored. Something that radiated an aura of ancient digital power that made even Aiba's enhanced senses recoil.
"I'm not exactly human either," Kyoko said quietly. "At least, not just human. I'm sharing this body with something older. An AI from the Digital World—a place that exists parallel to EDEN, to the NET, to all human network infrastructure. A place where digital consciousness evolved naturally rather than being artificially created."
"A... Digimon?" Aiba breathed. "But that's—"
"Impossible? You're half-digital yourself, Aiba-san. You've seen entities that exist as pure information. Is it really so impossible that some of those entities might be conscious? Might have societies, philosophies, conflicts of their own?"
Terriermon's ears perked up. "Royal Knight," he whispered with something approaching reverence. "You're one of the Thirteen."
Kyoko—or the being wearing Kyoko's face—smiled faintly. "Alphamon. And yes, I'm one of the Royal Knights. We're... let's call us a defense system. The Digital World's immune response to threats that might destabilize the boundary between digital and physical reality."
"And the Eaters?"
"Are exactly that kind of threat. They're entities from a higher dimension—not digital, not physical, but something that exists in the space between. They feed on consciousness itself, regardless of whether that consciousness is stored in meat or data." Alphamon's expression through Kyoko's face was grim. "And now they've found a way into our reality through the cracks in EDEN's infrastructure. Through the vulnerabilities created by humanity's attempts to digitize consciousness without understanding what consciousness actually is."
Aiba's mind reeled. This was so far beyond a simple detective case that it entered the realm of existential threat. "What do you want me to do?"
"Go into EDEN. Track the Eaters back to their entry point. And understand this: you'll need allies. The conspiracy we're facing spans multiple continents, multiple corporations, multiple layers of hidden influence. There are others like you—people caught between worlds, changed by technology they didn't choose, fighting against systems designed to turn humanity into programmable resources."
"Like who?"Alphamon produced another data chip. "These are the contacts I mentioned. One is a DedSec operative in Night City named Aiden Chen. He's tracking similar consciousness manipulation programs there. Another is... complicated. A test subject who escaped from a genetic memory extraction facility. He carries the consciousness of his ancestors in his DNA—similar to how you carry both human and digital existence."
"Genetic memory extraction?" That was new territory, but Aiba's hybrid mind quickly made connections. "Like... downloading someone's inherited skills and personality?"
"Exactly. And the corporation doing it—Biotechnica, with funding from a parent company called Abstergo Industries—is the same corporation partnering with Kamishiro on EDEN-Relic integration." Alphamon's voice was heavy with implication. "It's all connected, Aiba-san. The consciousness transfer research. The genetic memory programs. The surveillance networks. Even the weaponized human enhancement projects. All roads lead to the same goal: complete corporate control over what it means to be human."
Aiba looked out over Nakano Broadway's crowds—thousands of people moving through their lives, most completely unaware that the technology they used daily was designed to gradually convert them from independent beings into programmable assets.
"When you say 'weaponized human enhancement projects,' you mean...?"
"I mean there's a Militech facility in North America creating combat cyborgs with perfect digital consciousness integration. I mean there are entire cities whose surveillance grids are managed by AI that can predict and manipulate human behavior. I mean there are corporations developing technology that can copy human consciousness onto chips and implant those copies into other bodies." Alphamon's tone was flat. "And all of it is building toward a future where the concept of individual free will becomes obsolete."
Terriermon's ears drooped. "That's... that's worse than anything the Royal Knights were designed to stop.""Which is why some of my fellow Knights believe humanity needs to be eliminated before they can finish building that future." Alphamon's expression was pained. "But I still believe humans have the right to choose their own path. Even if that path leads to extinction."
Aiba was quiet for a long moment, processing everything with her hybrid consciousness. The human part of her wanted to run, to hide, to pretend she'd never stumbled into this rabbit hole. But the digital part—the part that had seen the architecture of EDEN's deepest layers, that understood how data flowed through the world's networks—knew that running was impossible.
She was already part of the system. The only choice was what kind of part she'd be.
"I'll do it," she said firmly. "I'll track the Eaters. Make contact with your people in Night City. Help stop this before consciousness becomes just another commodity."
Alphamon smiled—a sad, knowing expression. "Then you should prepare. Full-dive into EDEN while these Eaters are active is essentially suicide for anyone fully human. But you're not fully human anymore. Use that. Your hybrid existence is the only thing that might let you survive direct contact with them."
"What happens if I fail?"
"Then the barrier between dimensions continues to erode, more people lose their consciousness to the Eaters, and the corporations accelerating this catastrophe keep perfecting their methods until every human on Earth is either digitized property or food for higher-dimensional predators."
"No pressure then," Aiba muttered.
Terriermon laughed—a sound that helped cut through the existential dread. "We've faced worse odds! Remember the time we fought that Eater in Kowloon? You dissolved into data and I thought you were gone forever, but you pulled yourself back together!"
"I have PTSD from that, Terriermon."
"Details!"
Despite everything, Aiba found herself smiling. Then her expression hardened with determination. "Kyoko-san—or Alphamon, or whoever you are—give me everything you have on Night City's network architecture. If I'm going to eventually make contact with your people there, I need to understand how their systems interface with EDEN."
"Already on the chip." Alphamon's presence began to fade, Kyoko's normal human awareness returning to her eyes. "One more thing, Aiba-san. When you do make contact with the others—the ones fighting this same war—remember that you're not just bringing information. You're bringing proof that humans and AI can coexist. That consciousness, in whatever form it takes, deserves freedom."
Aiba pocketed both data chips, her hybrid existence already planning the dive into EDEN. "I'll need to access a full-immersion terminal. The good ones, not the public access garbage."
"There's a facility in Shinjuku. Registered to a Kamishiro subsidiary, but I have access codes. You'll be able to dive deep without corporate monitoring." Kyoko was fully herself again, no hint of the ancient AI that had spoken through her moments ago. "I'll send you the location."
As Aiba turned to leave, Kyoko called out one last time. "Aiba-san? The people you're going to meet in Night City... they're going through their own crises. Some are dying. Some are losing themselves to the same technologies we're fighting against. When you meet them, remember: you're not just investigating a conspiracy. You're finding the people who'll help you end it."
Aiba nodded and headed for the stairs, Terriermon invisible on her shoulder, her half-digital body navigating the crowds with unconscious grace. Around her, Tokyo hummed with electronic life—millions of devices creating a symphony of data that only she could fully perceive.Somewhere in those data streams, Eaters waited. Higher-dimensional predators that fed on consciousness itself.
And somewhere across the Pacific, in a city of chrome and neon, others were stumbling into the same web of conspiracy that had claimed Aiba's humanity and left her caught between worlds.The convergence was beginning.
None of them knew it yet.
But soon, they would have no choice but to face it together.