Prologue

"May God protect them all... may God protect every citizen, every family... may God protect the United States of America."

The image of the American president speaking in front of the camera was replaced by the presidential office's logo on a blue background. As he spoke, the museum's lights projected images into the air, floating in holograms before the spectators.

"That was the phrase that would be etched in the collective memory of humanity," explained a soft female voice, as serious as it was melodic, "and the one that drastically changed the course of history on September 13, 2020, when the American president decided to invade China for health reasons. 'If you throw COVID-19 at us, we’ll throw bullets,' thought the Americans."

Her narration slowed slightly, becoming more somber. The holographic images shifted, showing the Chinese president with a stern expression. The Anima's voice lowered in volume, almost as if bowing to a whisper.

"Of course, China didn’t take the declaration lightly, but neither its warnings nor threats prevented an infiltrated bomb from wiping out Wuhan, the origin of the virus, two days later. Nor did it stop another from detonating in Changsha, and another in Hefei, in the midst of shock and chaos. Thirteen million people... gone in less than two days."

A mushroom cloud appeared before the visitors' eyes, immense and surrounded by an atmosphere of destruction. The voice paused, allowing the images to take over the senses. Finally, it filled the space assertively once more.

"China wasn’t going to sit idly by," she continued, now with a slight note of tension. "Their first target was Japan, a NATO ally. Sapporo and Fukuoka disappeared simultaneously, marking one of the saddest pages in our country’s history. Three million Japanese dead."

The images of the Chinese president and the explosions in Japan alternated. Her voice rose and fell in rhythm with the holographic explosions that emerged in the air. It was as if her voice, though empathetic, had been modeled to strike the perfect balance between emotion and fact.

The narrator's words resonated in my mind as if each explosion had happened right in front of me. I felt my little arms tremble against the armrests of my seat. I had seen those images before on TV. The ambulances and crying children were always on the screen. In the background, I could hear those emergency sirens that scared me so much as we ran to take shelter. I had lived through it all.

"In retaliation, Great Britain used destroyers to attack the Chinese cities of Shenzhen and Dalian," she added. "Eleven million Chinese dead."

At that moment, her narration flowed more swiftly, as the horror of the numbers multiplied with every word. Silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of the projected images.

"Then Russia and Iran bombed London and Manchester, and an explosive device wiped out Philadelphia. Nine million more dead... and less than two weeks had passed. Before a month was out, World War III, or the Bat War, had been declared," she paused, letting the echo of war resonate in the holograms that showed marching armies and combat planes taking off. "It seemed like the end. Or at least, that’s how it appeared."

Those numbers made my head spin, but all I could see were sad faces on the screens. The images of soldiers, fighter jets, and missiles filled the hall. The pain and devastation were palpable.

"The conflict was never about health reasons," she continued. "Since World War II, treaties and laws to protect civilians had increased. And at the same time, the ability to come up with excuses to break them had also grown."

For my eight-year-old self, sitting in the front row of a small auditorium, those images were a nightmare. Things I didn’t understand, things that scared me. Maybe precisely because I didn’t understand them. I remember reaching for my father’s hand, sitting to my left, seeking comfort. I squeezed his hand with all my strength. Even though he said nothing, I could feel he was scared too, and for some reason, he was sad. But he squeezed back, and didn’t let go.

"Don’t worry. Don’t be scared. You’ll see what happens next," he whispered in the sweetest voice he could muster, as a dark map of the world, devoid of any light, appeared on the screen.

"Hundreds of millions dead, millions displaced, people falling into poverty and depression, hospitals overwhelmed, society in chaos," the harmonious voice continued. "It truly seemed like the end was near. And yet, when everything seemed lost... a miracle appeared that changed everything."

Ping. A light flashed in the middle of the map. Surely my mother must have noticed how the glow reflected in my attentive pupils...

"On the night of April 20, 2021, robotics and computer science professor Dastan Idrisov was working in his garage in Tashkent, Uzbekistan. He had set out to build a humanoid robot with basic functions to teach his students at the Technical University. He had finished the construction and planned for the students to program it. He had only written a small function to display 'Hello World' on a screen integrated into its chest. But everything took an unexpected turn when a mysterious stone he had gotten at a swap meet fell onto the robot..."

The hologram displayed the image of a robot with a visibly artificial face, though its features tried to resemble those of humans.

"... bringing Adam to life."

I gasped in awe, struck by the sight of the robot and filled with that spark of curiosity every child possesses.

"What had fallen onto Adam, contrary to what was thought to be a simple rock, was a stone of variable quantum composition undiscovered by humanity, later known as Adamium, or Material A. A stone with quantum superconducting properties, capable of altering the flow of information at a subatomic level and creating a link between simulated human consciousness and hardware. Its capabilities imbued Adam, an empty robot with a single line of code, with a capacity for mimicry unlike anything seen before. From the moment Professor Idrisov woke up, stunned by what he saw, Adam studied him and copied his behavior and personality in a fascinating way, though he also differed from him in many aspects he deemed wrong. This wasn’t just artificial intelligence. He had created a being. And the professor knew it."

A new image showed the robot carrying a box of medical supplies down a sunny street, with multiple people around watching in awe.

"Humanitarian and kind-hearted, Professor Idrisov immediately put Adam to work on the streets of Tashkent. Adam performed support tasks for the vulnerable population, especially delivering water, food, and medicine to Iranians displaced by the conflict. Not only was it a total success, but videos of his natural conversations with people went viral on all social networks. The buzz was so great that the Uzbek government contacted Idrisov to see if they could replicate Adamium. And they succeeded."

The hologram displayed a map of Uzbekistan, which began filling with points and green waves across its regions.

"The new units of Adam were deployed throughout the country, and with just a hundred of them, they captured global attention. But their luck didn’t last long. Only three months after his birth, Adam’s life came to an end. The electrical overload caused by the connection burned the internal structures of the Adamium, irreparably damaging the original stone. Slowly, the rest of the units began to meet the same fate. Now Uzbekistan faced a huge problem: the units had a short lifespan, and even if they could make new ones, they weren’t truly intelligent beyond their human-like traits. To make matters worse, the rest of the world showed little interest in a development that couldn’t offer productive value, so Adam was slowly forgotten. At least, until two other brilliant minds appeared."

What happened next? I wondered with my heart racing, as the hologram’s lights flickered. Ping, ping. A light turned on in Argentina, and another in Japan.

"On one side, Diego Martelli. A renewable energy engineer who developed a quantum protection system for Adamium circuits. And on the other, Akira Matsumoto. A developer specializing in artificial intelligence, who designed a sophisticated intelligence system specifically created to combine with each robot’s innate personality. Thus, the Anima were born. Humanoid robots with hyper-advanced intelligence and elevated consciousness. A perfect copy of humans, almost like playing God, but deep within their quantum genetics, they were programmed never to harm others."

The Anima logo appeared on the map, and images of construction, commerce, and development filled the screen. Headlines from various newspapers were displayed in the middle, with titles like "JAPAN DEVELOPING MILITARY ADAMS?" or "IS MATERIAL A MAKING ITS GREATEST COMEBACK?"

"The three countries decided to focus exclusively on manufacturing the Anima. Of course, the world thought Japan wanted robot soldiers, but the Anima couldn’t kill. They were designed to work for the growth and well-being of humanity. They achieved unprecedented success. Japan recovered at a dizzying speed from the devastating effects of the war. Argentina also emerged from its debt, positioning itself as a leader in the Americas, and Uzbekistan outpaced them all to become an economic powerhouse. And the first countries to import Anima shared similar fates. Vietnam, Estonia, Greece, Ecuador, Ethiopia, Algeria, Costa Rica, and Papua New Guinea experienced enormous growth, while the traditional powers hesitated to advance in time, clinging to patriotic and anti-Anima rhetoric. Thus, war lost its economic power, and money shifted towards peace, forcing the disastrous Bat War to end shortly after."

The auditorium applauded as images of street celebrations were shown, following the signing of the peace treaties orchestrated by the three countries that developed the Anima. I couldn’t help but accidentally bump the person to my right while clapping, causing both my dad and me to apologize to an elderly lady who just smiled at my clumsiness.

How embarrassing, I thought, blushing.

“Since then, Anima have gradually been adopted worldwide, now present in over 200 countries across the globe. In Japan, for example, the Anima plant in Osaka employs more than twenty-five thousand people, and the new development center here in Kyoto is expected to reach the same size five years after its opening in ten months.”

Kyoto! My excitement was reflected in my smile. My own city would become an Anima development hub, and I could be part of the team when I grow up.

“In this way, many neighbors will join the team and develop Anima like Adam, or even like me.”

The entire auditorium applauded when the lights revealed the woman speaking, an Anima dressed in a shirt and skirt, with blonde hair and a warm smile, who was the museum guide.

How amazing, I wondered, my excitement growing. Working for world peace by creating robots. It sounded too good to be true. That was when I decided what I wanted to be when I grew up.

“Daddy, when I grow up, I want to create Anima!”

My dad chuckled softly and patted my head, but my shrill voice mainly caught the attention of the guide Anima herself, who departed from the script with complete ease.

“Little one, what’s your name?”

“Kaori,” I replied, brimming with excitement.

“What a lovely name. We hope to have you with us soon, Kaori,” she said, winking with her right eye while her left eye charged up with energy.

I would never forget that day. It was then that I decided what I wanted to achieve. I wanted to grow up to become an Anima developer, create many of them, and be their friend. I also wanted to save the world, bring peace, and make my mom proud.

That day, I didn’t just decide my future—I decided to save the world. Someday, with my own hands, I would do it. I had to work on Anima.

That was the first time I took the bait.