-III-
[Michelle's POV]
November 6, 2022 – 19:15
Way to Neo's department, Minato City – Tokyo
Dammit, move! Just move! As much as I want to fully step on the accelerator, hundreds of lights ahead formed an endless, taunting river of red. Horns blared in the Tokyo gridlock, a symphony of shared panic that I couldn't help but feel rising inside me.
I gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. Every lane, every direction, choked solid. Cars hadn't moved more than a meter in ten minutes. How long until I get to him?
The car radio crackled with an emergency broadcast:『...the SAO incident is real, ladies and gentlemen! Please, do not try to disconnect your loved ones by force. We repeat: DO NOT TRY TO DISCONNECT ANYONE BY FORCE! Doing so will result in fatal consequences due to the NerveGear's internal mechanisms!』
My thumb scrolled numbly through news feed in my phone. SAO… trapped… Kayaba… Then the headline hit me like a physical blow; First confirmed death inside SAO leaded to a real-world tragedy…double suicide… I could feel the wave of nausea. These parents couldn't cope with it…they just…gave up on everything.
I have to believe he wasn't...he isn't among them. He can't be.
I tried to stay calm, but the gridlock, the sirens – everyone was trying to get somewhere. To a child, a sibling, a friend plugged into that damned machine. We were all caught in the same nightmare. This city, usually a marvel of efficiency, was paralyzed by collective terror.
My own words from just hours ago echoed mockingly: "I'll be back and drag you out of that machine if I have to, got it?" I promised. I promised I'd get him out.
The sirens intensify nearby. Their wailing was maddening at best. I'm done waiting. I checked the map app. Less than two kilometers. It's faster on foot.
I grabbed my sports bag – phone, keys, passport – and threw open the car door. Ignoring the indignant shouts, I squeezed between bumpers, hit the sidewalk, and broke into a determined jog. A ground-eating pace fueled by pure adrenaline...and fear. He wouldn't like this. He'd tell me to not overexert myself enough times. I chuckled bitterly. Just this time, kiddo.
A familiar, unwelcome ache began to throb deep in my shoulders and hips as the building complex came into view. By this point, I could feel my head spinning, and ended up stumbling just outside the apartment building entrance.
As I was catching my breath against the wall, a sound shook me out of my physical distress – the beeping of medical equipment, clipped by voices. Then the sight. The ambulance, doors gaping. The stretcher. The still form, being maneuvered inside. My son. My son.
My raw and primal scream shattered any dizziness left. "Thomas! NOOO! Thomas!" I lunged forward, propelled by pure instinct.
Strong hands grabbed my arm. A police officer, face stern but eyes sympathetic. "Ma'am, you need to clear the area."
"He's my boy! What happened?! Is he…is he…?" I couldn't complete the questioning. I shoved uselessly against the restraining arm. "Please, just let me see him!"
"Please ma'am, we don't have time. If we don't reconnect him to the Argus' server soon, he could die on the way to the hospital," the officer's tone was firm but urgent too.
I don't want to interfere. Just be near him.
But I doubt law enforcement would listen me in the midst of a collective emergency. Protocol. Procedures. Damn it all. Tears streamed down my face, hot with frustration. I don't want to use my position like some cheap trump card, but Thomas…
Taking a shaky breath, my voice suddenly gained a professional edge. "Officer, step aside."
"Ma'am, if you don't desist-"
"I'm Michelle McGahey, the U.S. Ambassador to Japan." I interrupted, the tone of authority coming naturally despite the tremor beneath it. "That boy is under diplomatic protection, as am I. And unless you want an international incident over blocking access to my critically injured child, you will let me through to that ambulance. NOW."