“That’s what he said, Shōta,” Hijū said, cell phone held to her ear in one hand, a document from Seki’s file in the other, her feet propped up on the desk in her tiny office. As Arata had taken Seki in search of a clean shirt, Hijū had Iijima, Fujikawa, and Shigeki begin a full series of diagnostics on the simulator units. Promising she would take Seki away from Arata so she could help with the diagnostics, Hijū had repaired to her office to call Benkei. “I felt it, too, stronger than ever. So strong I couldn’t stay synced. Kind of scary, you know? Do you think it’s like what you experienced right before you went asynchronous?”
Eight years ago, as Asynchronicity Syndrome had begun eroding Benkei’s ability to merge with his titan’s operating system, he had started hearing voices—and later, seeing visions—whenever he was synced up. He rarely talked about those times, and Hijū hated asking about it, but she needed to know.
Hijū could hear music and a man singing karaoke in the background, but Benkei was silent for quite some time before answering. “I don’t think it is. He’s too young. But if it is, we need to find out quick. This sort of thing…it can mess him up, bad. We don’t want him to decide to move on.”
