The morning after the scandal broke, the city didn't feel the same.
It pulsed differently…like the rhythm of a heartbeat slightly out of sync.
People walked faster, talked louder, scrolled deeper.
News screens on every corner displayed the downfall of the politician.
Crowds gathered outside his office, chanting, recording, live-streaming their fury.
Every click, every word, every shout, a data point Aiden had already anticipated.
Aiden's Apartment – 08:37 A.M.
Aiden Kuroda sat at his desk, surrounded by the glow of twelve monitors.
Each screen displayed live feeds of social media analytics, heat maps, emotional response graphs a storm of human thought reduced to metrics.
He watched it all in silence, sipping coffee that had gone cold hours ago.
His eyes followed the curves of reaction spikes with clinical satisfaction.
"Positive outrage: 72%."
"Group polarization: 89%."
"Independent thought… 3%."
He smirked faintly.
"Three percent. I still have work to do."
He minimized the data and opened a smaller window labeled Dues Log: Phase One.
Lines of code shimmered like veins pulsing under digital skin.
[Observation: Society obeys the illusion of rebellion.]
[Hypothesis: Freedom amplifies control when disguised as choice.]
He typed another note.
[Next phase: Self-correction. Let the crowd silence its own skeptics.]
As he typed, the door buzzer rang.
He froze for a moment, then slowly walked over.
A woman stood there, early 30s, worn expression, clutching a press badge.
Mika Tanaka, investigative journalist.
One of the few people who still asked the right questions.
"Aiden Kuroda," she said softly. "It's been a long time."
Aiden's expression didn't change.
"You shouldn't be here."
"Neither should you," she replied, stepping inside before he could refuse. "You disappeared three years ago. Now, your name's showing up in strange places, encrypted data packets, hidden meta data in social posts. Someone's running your behavioral model again."
Aiden's lips curved faintly.
"Interesting. Who would do that?"
"That's what I came to find out."
He looked at her, not angry, not surprised, just calculating.
"If you've found traces of it, then you already know… it's too late to stop."
Her eyes narrowed.
"What did you do, Aiden?"
He turned away, glancing back at the monitors.
"I didn't do anything. I just gave people what they wanted…the truth."
"You're manipulating them."
"No," he said calmly. "I'm observing them. They manipulate themselves."
Tokyo Metropolitan Police Headquarters – 09:15 A.M.
Detective Ren Saito stared at the digital board in front of him.
Five major social collapses in less than six months, each starting from a whisper online.
Rumors that spread like wildfire, then imploded into riots, public outrage, or suicides.
He flipped through reports, cross-referencing data.
Every incident had a similar signature…
Anomalous emotional resonance.
Posts appeared at calculated intervals.
Language patterns too precise to be random.
"This isn't chaos," Ren muttered. "It's choreography."
His partner, Detective Ayame, looked up.
"You think someone's orchestrating this?"
"Not just someone. Something. A system."
He paused, frowning at one name buried in a classified file.
Project DUES – Behavioral Control Framework.
Lead Scientist: Aiden Kuroda. Status: Terminated.
Ren leaned back in his chair.
"Guess the dead don't stay buried."
Aiden's Apartment – 22:12 P.M.
The city outside flickered like a dying organism.
On Aiden's monitors, new trends began rising spontaneous movements, activist groups forming around false truths.
He watched in fascination.
"The human mind," he whispered, "is a virus that believes it's a cure."
Behind him, Mika spoke quietly.
"You're playing god, Aiden."
He didn't look at her.
"No. Gods create order. I'm just showing them what happens without it."
As the night deepened, the crowd outside the politician's mansion turned violent.
Windows shattered, police sirens wailed, and drones hovered above capturing everything for the world to consume.
And somewhere amid the chaos, Ren Saito stood on a rooftop across the street, watching it unfold with a heavy frown.
"This isn't random," he said into his comms. "Someone wanted this reaction. Someone's… pulling the strings."
The voice on the other end crackled:
"Do you think it's the same person behind the previous events?"
"No," Ren whispered, staring at the burning crowd.
"This one's different. This one knows how people think."
Aiden watched the chaos unfold through his screen, his reflection framed by firelight and static.
He whispered to himself:
"Phase One: Complete."
And as the last screams echoed through the streets,
the DUES Protocol moved to its next stage.