BlackBrain. II, Epilogue.

“Forty years have passed since the resolution of the ‘BlackBrain Case,’ the investigation that changed the fate of the city,” intoned a hologram in the background.

It felt as if it had been just yesterday.

At night, my hotel room rested; barely illuminated by the dim light of the bathroom and the video.

“Forty years since the dissolution of Hero Enterprise, in what became one of the city’s most publicized cases.”

Five years of investigation started by a madman who, during a summer storm, stood against his enemies with the certainty that he wouldn’t live to see the end. Even as the biological weapon BlackBrain devoured his mind, Isayama Tore never stopped fighting. His videos, filled with tears and desperation, were the spark that lit the way forward.

I wasn’t there for him—or at least that’s what I wanted to believe. But there are stories that, no matter how many years pass, refuse to be forgotten. Would you like to hear more?

It all began in 2998 with Haruto Kagawa, one of the suited men accompanying Irina Kaft that fateful night. His vision was as brilliant as it was cruel: turn the S-Flu into a profitable business, no matter how many lives were lost along the way.

A year later, Hero Enterprise was born with the backing of corrupt politicians. Their initial strategy: affordable, accessible implants. But their ambition knew no bounds, and in 2301, they took a dark turn: the development of BlackBrain, a biological weapon designed to annihilate their competitors.

It’s important to mention that this was never the official name of the biological weapon. Instead, it was imagined by Isayama Tore—a man we’ll talk more about later.

Returning to the artificial virus, one of its advantages and risks was that it could be manually activated and target specific individuals as long as they had spinal implants. The issue with that approach was that selective attacks could create patterns, so progress had to be slow and calculated.

For this reason, Hero Enterprise hired contagion investigators from all rival companies, such as Irina Kaft and Ilya Reutermann at Cellos Robotics, to closely monitor activities and obscure their tracks.

To publicly cover their trail, Hero Enterprise manipulated anti-implant groups, using their protests as distractions while the virus continued its course.

The plan didn’t bear fruit as Hero had hoped, but the role of activists like Touji Kaft ensured that, as implants began to fail, victims’ frustrations erupted against their competitors. In other words, turning public opinion against the leading implant companies while Hero remained out of the spotlight.

The biological weapon had two objectives: individuals capable of exposing the operation and collateral damage to avoid obvious patterns. Thus, Isayama Tore’s infection with S-Flu was entirely intentional.

Speaking of him, perhaps what Hero Enterprise never anticipated was the possibility of someone like him existing. It was an extraordinary coincidence that a young, inexperienced contagion investigator like him observed firsthand the weapon’s effects on so many key individuals, discovered the possibility of a strange pattern among the victims (what we initially called 5th evolution), and, on top of that, lacked spinal implants, making him immune to the virus’s direct effects.

That miraculous series of events ensured that, despite the disinformation campaigns by the fake anti-implant radical groups, Tore eventually found the evidence he needed.

And so, on a rainy summer night in 2308, he was coldly executed with a gunshot to the head in a distant alley. It took two days to find his body, despite my own warnings to the police.

The investigation gained significant momentum thanks to the videos provided by the martyr, which gave law enforcement enough evidence to dismantle the entire criminal network over the next four and a half years.

The contributions of professionals in the field of medical robotics, such as Rin and Hana Mori, Ryunosuke Mann, Carlos Diaz, and Hiro Oda—former colleagues of Tore, Shimizu, and Yamamoto—also deserve mention.

In 2311, Irina Kaft and Ilya Reutermann were convicted of conspiracy against public welfare, unfair competition, espionage, and dozens of first-degree murders. Touji Kaft was also convicted for the direct murder of Isayama Tore.

Additionally, Felix Bagel was arrested for evidence tampering, even though he wasn’t directly involved with Hero Enterprise. Over a hundred people across Hero Enterprise and the metropolitan government were ultimately convicted.

Their motives? Money, and perhaps a lack of imagination to foresee the consequences of their actions. Isa would have even granted them the benefit of the doubt.

The complete dissolution of Hero Enterprise and the removal of all corrupt politicians concluded with a trial on December 17, 2314, as commemorated by the hologram in my room.

“Alright, here we go…” Barely lit by the timid light of the bathroom, I adjusted my tie in front of the mirror, ensuring it sat neatly over my shirt and that the shoulders of my jacket were properly squared.

December 17, 2353.

Tatsumi Kageyama. 63 years old.

“Are you ready, Kageyama-sensei?” my apprentice asked, sitting in the armchair across from the hologram as he saw me emerge from the bathroom. “You seem distracted. Don’t make that face, Sensei—this is a special night for you.”

“You say that as if we’ve already beaten the S-Flu.”

“Well, we’ve made some progress over the years…”

“Relax, Yuki. I was just remembering an old friend.”

“An old friend? Someone from the research lab?”

“No, long before that…”

Without further delay, I grabbed the stack of papers from the table and headed toward the central theater in District 1.

Escorted by photographers, the other nineteen researchers and I entered the beautiful building, dressed in its finest to celebrate our accomplishments.

Under the spotlights and alongside the other brilliant minds, I took a seat in the front row, facing the piano on stage. The occasion? They were honoring a groundbreaking study conducted over fifteen years by scientists from more than eight nations—'Nova Manus.’

Its purpose? This new drug could reduce small- and medium-scale S-Flu rot by 75%. In other words, the first alternative medicine to artificial implants. An unprecedented innovation.

Before the Fleming Prize was awarded and the twenty researchers, myself included, delivered their speeches, a musical performance had been prepared.

It seems humanity never truly lost itself…

We all applauded as the pianist bowed.

You would have loved this, Isa. Isn’t this the day you dreamed of?

For the audience’s delight, the artist chose to play the beautiful Ballade No. 1 by Frédéric Chopin. A true masterpiece of classical music, a monument to humanity itself.

The piece didn’t stand out for its complexity; it was the beautiful placement of each note over time that made it so brilliant. How, melancholic yet profound, it so fully conveyed the feelings of a composer fighting to hold back tears while his heart raced and slowed with the passage of notes.

Isayama’s favorite.

After the final ovation and the presentation of medals and diplomas, my fellow researchers stepped onto the stage one by one.

When it was my turn, I walked to the center of the stage, surrounded by applause, and stood at the lectern with its microphones. My face appeared on all the theater’s holograms.

Yet, for some reason, I could only think of him.

You knew perfectly well, didn’t you, Isa?

All your sacrifice and torture.

Your end, the pain you endured. The anguish…

You knew she didn’t remember you in her final moments, that her last days were a lie. That she deceived you.

And yet, naive as she was, she remembered you without even knowing it. That was your solace: that, even as she lied, she told you the truth…

At the end of it all, even unknowingly, even on the brink of death from the biological weapon…

…even after losing her memory entirely, she remembered that phrase you both shared so dearly, didn’t she?

Just enough to soothe the heart of a desperate fool like you, I suppose.

Resting on the lectern was a copy of over two hundred pages, fifteen years of work, detailing the miraculous study ‘Nova Manus’—the study that would reconnect humanity with nature and help us thrive while combating the S-Flu.

The one that united researchers from across the globe and would end the artificial era of humanity. The one that would allow us to make the world a better place.

It was opened to the credits page. The list was endless, but, tucked in a remote corner of humanity’s most important work, it could be clearly read:

“BlackBrain Case, 2308.” 

“Dr. Keiji Yamaguchi”

“Katy Shimizu”

“Isayama Tore”

Under the gaze of all those present, I displayed the widest smile my face could muster.

This victory is yours too, Isa…

“Dear fellow researchers, esteemed journalists, thank you for coming…”