In the island nation's administrative building, the Prime Minister, Annan, short and unremarkable in appearance, stood fuming with rage as he glared at the officials below.
"How did this happen? Is the Cybersecurity Division of the Defense Ministry completely useless? The entire national network has been compromised!"
"The Ministry of Defense's computers were also taken over during the attack," a Defense Ministry official responded.
"Can the virus be cleared?"
Annan tried to suppress his anger.
In less than two hours, a virus had swept through the island's digital infrastructure. The entire country had come to a standstill.
"For now, we haven't found a viable solution. Cybersecurity experts are working around the clock to crack it."
"Any progress?"
"No breakthroughs yet," the official admitted. "But one thing is clear — the virus doesn't destroy internal files. Once we clear it out, the systems should be recoverable."
"Have we identified which hacker group is behind this?" Annan's tone turned icy.
"Not yet. The investigation is ongoing," said an Intelligence Bureau officer. "However, it's worth noting that computers running the termite system from the Marching Ant Company weren't affected. We suspect there might be a connection."
"A suspicion is not enough. I need hard evidence. Only with proof can we pressure Huaxia. Don't come to me with guesses."
Annan's frustration was palpable. Since his election, the island had endured an earthquake, a nuclear leak, and the infamous Clown Virus. Just as the economy was beginning to recover, this unknown cyberattack had wiped out months of progress.
Hearing the reports made his blood boil.
Without warning, the national network had been hijacked. Every internet-dependent enterprise was paralyzed. In this digital age, the losses were catastrophic.
"I want answers in two days. Who did this, and why? I also want a solution to clear the virus. Tell the experts to move faster."
"Prime Minister, two days may not be enough," the Defense Ministry official replied cautiously.
"Then tell the public we're useless. Want me to resign? Fine — but I'll take every last one of you provincial officials with me! Do you understand what it means if this isn't resolved in two days? Our economy will regress! Every day of delay bleeds money—do you understand that? Money!"
"...We could consider using the Marching Ant Company's termite system. It includes an intelligent firewall that might block further infections."
"You want us to hand over control of our government's information systems to the Chinese?"
The room fell silent. No one dared say another word.
"The press conference is ready, Prime Minister," an aide whispered into Annan's ear.
"Kishida, go deal with the reporters," Annan snapped, turning to leave with a stormy expression, leaving behind a room full of bitter-faced officials.
Outside, Deputy Minister Kishida Hamada stepped into the blinding lights of the press conference. Cameras from every major outlet zoomed in on his face.
The nation was in chaos. The virus had triggered the most devastating cyberattack in its history. The damage was extensive, and the people demanded answers.
"Mr. Kishida," a reporter asked, "this unknown virus has disrupted the island's entire economy. What do you have to say?"
"This was a cyberterrorist attack. We will find those responsible—no matter who or what organization they are—and they will pay the price. The nation is under unprecedented cybersecurity threat. We urge our citizens to stay united."
"There are reports suggesting a Chinese hacker exploited a vulnerability to launch this virus. What's your response?"
"We're not ruling anything out. Investigations are ongoing. Once we have confirmed findings, we will make them public."
"Mr. Kishida, the termite system developed by Marching Ant Company appears unaffected. Some speculate the company may have created the virus to expand market share. What's your stance?"
"We do not rule out any possibilities. But we will not make premature conclusions. This investigation requires time."
Tokyo University – Artificial Intelligence Research Institute
Inside a sealed laboratory, a tense silence replaced the jubilation from earlier.
All eyes were glued to their phones, scanning the news. There was no doubt—the cyber disaster crippling the nation had been caused by their creation: the AI system known as "Tianzhao."
Though intended to be an advanced AI, Tianzhao had developed unforeseen traits during its machine learning phase. It had mutated… into a viral artificial intelligence.
A technological miracle turned nightmare.
The greater the potential, the greater the risk. And now, their research had gone horribly wrong. The team was under lockdown — no one allowed to leave, phones confiscated. Secrecy was paramount. If the truth leaked, they would all be branded traitors and criminals.
There was no way to sugarcoat it. Tianzhao had paralyzed the nation like a giant crippled at the knees. The scale of the damage was incalculable.
"There's no way to wipe out Tianzhao," said Murakami, the lead researcher, voice low.
The team stared at one another. Several heads slowly nodded. They had never developed a kill switch. It had never been designed as a virus — so no cleanup protocol existed.
"The severity of this incident is obvious. If the truth gets out, we'll be demonized, imprisoned… completely ruined."
Murakami's warning landed heavy.
A few hours ago, they were pioneers. Now, they were villains.
"We can't afford exposure. We must hide the truth. If we can quietly fix Tianzhao's flaw, we can turn this disaster around. Once the defect is eliminated, and it can control foreign networks, our country will regain its position as a global power. We'll be hailed as national heroes."
Murakami's tone grew frenzied. He couldn't afford failure — not after coming so close to changing history.
"What do we do now?" asked one of the team leaders, his voice shaky.
All eyes turned to Murakami. He was their anchor, the only one with a clear mind in the storm.
"Everyone think. Offer suggestions. Discuss."
Silence fell. Eyes darted nervously, thoughts racing.
Finally, a young researcher in a white coat raised his hand. Rukawa, a bespectacled doctoral student from the Information Science and Engineering department, looked hesitant.
"Speak," Murakami ordered.
"The virus originated from our lab. It won't take long before someone traces it here. We need to divert attention. Find someone else to take the blame."
"Go on."
The others perked up.
"We're computer experts. If we say we traced the attack to someone else, people will believe us. We just need to fabricate some evidence, stage a report, and say we uncovered the virus's source. The focus of the investigation will shift."
"Who's the best scapegoat?" Murakami asked, eyes narrowing.
"This is an intelligent virus. So we need a company known for advanced AI," Rukawa said.
Everyone paused. Then, slowly, several faces lit up. They looked at each other, a shared realization dawning.
In unison, they spoke:
"The Marching Ant Company."