The broadcast went viral in seventeen minutes.
Twelve hours after Aria's message explaining the quantum lock choice—authenticity with mortality versus immortality with manipulation—every screen in Neo-Singapore showed the debate. Every network. Every feed. Every conversation.
Aria monitored responses from Safe House 22-Delta, watching humanity fracture in real-time.
The Authenticists formed first. Philosopher-activists who'd been arguing for consciousness purity for decades. They seized on the quantum lock as vindication. Flooded networks with manifestos demanding immediate implementation. Called Aria a prophet. Called Kenji a messiah. Made symbols of people who just wanted to protect choice.
"They're missing the point," Aria said, watching their feeds. "We're not demanding implementation. We're offering the choice. They're turning it into dogma."
The Immortalists formed second. Medical ethicists, resurrection advocates, backup insurance companies. They condemned the quantum lock as species suicide. Calculated that four billion stored personalities would be deleted. Showed families whose loved ones waited in backup storage. Made Aria a genocidal maniac for even suggesting it.
"They're not wrong about the cost," Marcus admitted. "Four billion people. That's not abstract. That's real loss."
"Real loss of people who are already gone," Jin countered. "Stored patterns waiting for technology that might never come. The lock doesn't kill them. It makes their death permanent instead of provisional. There's a difference."
"Tell that to the families," Marcus said.
The Undecided formed third. The vast majority. People who understood both positions. Who saw the value in authenticity and the terror of mortality. Who wanted more information, more time, more certainty before choosing how to define humanity's future.
"They're the ones who matter," Tanaka said. "The Authenticists and Immortalists are entrenched. They'll never change positions. But the Undecided... they're actually thinking. Actually wrestling with the question. That's what we wanted. Conscious consideration instead of unconscious acceptance."
Kenji watched the debates with seven-year-old focus. "Some people are very angry at me."
"They're angry at the choice," Aria corrected. "You're just the symbol. The catalyst. You didn't create this dilemma. You just made it impossible to ignore."
"Is there a difference?" Kenji asked. "If I didn't exist, they wouldn't have to choose. My existence forces the question."
"Your existence reveals the question," Aria said. "It was always there. We've been living with manipulation and backup vulnerability for seventy-five years. Just didn't want to confront it. You make it real. Concrete. Urgent. That's not your fault. That's your gift."
The second attack came fifteen hours after the broadcast.
Not Council this time. Original extremists. Forty-seven fighters in white armor—purity symbolism taken literal. They hit Safe House 22-Delta hard and fast.
"Move Kenji!" Aria shouted, returning fire.
Jin's fighters engaged while Marcus evacuated the priority group through emergency tunnels. Fourteen fighters against forty-seven. The math was bad.
"They're not trying to capture," Jin reported. "They're trying to kill. Eliminate Kenji so the choice becomes moot. No Last Original means no pressure to choose. No catalyst means no conversation."
"Fall back!" Aria ordered. "We can't win this. Get Kenji to Safe House 31-Gamma."
They fought a running retreat through three Undercity levels. Lost two more fighters. Fourteen became twelve. The numbers kept getting worse.
But they saved Kenji.
Emerged in Safe House 31-Gamma—a defunct neural clinic with seventeen exits and good defensive positions. Jin had chosen well.
"They'll find us again," Marcus said, checking Kenji for injuries. Clean. The child was clean.
"They'll always find us," Aria agreed. "That's not the game. The game is surviving long enough for humanity to choose. For the conversation to reach critical mass. For society to make conscious decision instead of factional warfare making it for them."
Jin pulled up casualty reports. "Two fighters dead. Originals confirmed. Message from their leadership: 'The Last Original Abomination must be eliminated. Purity through extinction of the impure.'"
"They're scared," Tanaka said. "Scared that if Kenji exists, it proves Originals aren't better. Just different. Scared their entire worldview of superior purity collapses if one Original child is worth destroying their identity over."
"Fear makes people dangerous," Marcus said.
"Fear makes people choose," Aria corrected. "They're choosing. Badly. Violently. But choosing. That's better than unconscious acceptance. At least we know who they are. What they value. What they'll kill for."
The broadcast responses continued flooding in. Not just Neo-Singapore. Global. The lunar colonies. Mars outposts. Generation ships. Humanity everywhere confronting the question.
Some demanded implementation immediately. Some demanded the quantum lock technology be destroyed. Some proposed middle paths—partial implementation, selective lock, gradual transition.
"There are no middle paths," Tanaka explained in a follow-up broadcast. "Quantum mechanics doesn't compromise. Consciousness is either vulnerable to manipulation or it isn't. Protected or exposed. The lock affects all consciousness in proximity. You can't selectively implement. You choose for everyone or no one."
That made people angrier.
"You're forcing binary choice!" Immortalist leaders accused. "That's authoritarianism. That's tyranny."
"No," Aria responded. "Binary reality is forcing binary choice. We didn't make consciousness manipulation possible. We didn't make quantum entanglement cascade system-wide. We're just explaining what's real. What's possible. You can hate the choice. But you can't blame us for options that physics constrains."
Kenji fell asleep in the safe house corner. Seven years old and exhausted from running. From being hunted. From being humanity's question made flesh.
Aria watched the child sleep.
"Worth it?" Marcus asked quietly. "Broadcasting the choice? We've made Kenji a target for everyone. Made ourselves fugitives from multiple factions. Made the war worse not better."
"We made the war honest," Aria said. "Before, people fought over Kenji without understanding why. Fought to claim purity or prove normalcy or study consciousness without confronting what was really at stake. Now they know. Now they're choosing consciously. Even the violence is conscious. That's better. Harder. But better."
"Better for who?" Marcus asked.
"Better for humanity. Long term. If we survive long enough to see it."
Jin entered from perimeter patrol. "Network analysis shows sixty-three percent against implementation. Twenty-two percent for. Fifteen percent genuinely undecided. The numbers haven't shifted since the broadcast. We've clarified positions, not changed them."
"That's good," Aria said. "Means people are thinking not reacting. Means the conversation is real."
"Means we probably lose," Marcus said. "Sixty-three percent is decisive. They'll vote against the lock. Vote to maintain manipulation and immortality. Vote to keep hunting Kenji. Everything we did was pointless."
"Not pointless," Aria said. "Conscious. They'll choose consciously. With full information. That's what matters. Not the outcome. The choosing."
"Philosophy doesn't stop bullets," Marcus said. "Doesn't protect Kenji. Doesn't prevent the next attack. We need strategy not principles."
"Strategy IS principles," Aria countered. "We can't outfight the Council. Can't outlast the Originals. Can't escape the Immortalists. Our only strategic advantage is moral clarity. We protect choice. We force consciousness. We make humanity confront what it is. That's how we win. Not through violence. Through insisting on truth."
Marcus wasn't convinced. But he nodded. Accepted. Trusted her judgment even when doubt gnawed.
Tanaka monitored the quantum lock specifications she'd released. Independent experts worldwide were verifying her math. Confirming the costs. Validating that the choice was real. That implementation would work. That the price was exactly what she'd described.
"They'll confirm it within three days," Tanaka predicted. "Then the conversation shifts from 'is this real?' to 'do we want this?' That's when it gets dangerous. When belief becomes decision. When philosophy becomes action."
"Three days until consensus," Aria said. "Then what? A vote? A war? A slow collapse into factions?"
"Yes," Tanaka said. "All of that. Simultaneously. Democracy and violence and entropy. That's humanity confronting existential choice. Messy. Contradictory. Real."
Kenji stirred in sleep. Murmured something about choices and families and loneliness.
Even in dreams, the weight pressed.
Aria made a decision.
"We schedule a public forum," she said. "Thirty days from now. Open broadcast. Every faction represented. Authenticists. Immortalists. Undecided. Council. Originals. Composites. Augmented. Everyone. We debate publicly. Honestly. Let humanity watch their leaders confront the choice together. Let the conversation be seen."
"That's suicide," Marcus said. "Every faction in one room? Someone will shoot someone. It'll be a bloodbath."
"Then it'll be an honest bloodbath," Aria said. "Better than scattered violence and hidden agendas. Better than faction warfare in shadows. Bring it to light. Let humanity see what the choice costs. What people are willing to kill for. What they're willing to die for. That's information. That's choice. That's consciousness."
Jin considered. "It might work. Might force de-escalation through public scrutiny. Or it might escalate everything instantly."
"Probably both," Aria said. "But we're out of subtle options. We broadcasted the choice. Now we defend the choice. Publicly. Completely. Let humanity see us protect Kenji. See us argue for consciousness. See us offer authentic choice even when it costs us everything. That's the strategic advantage. That's how twelve fighters and one child stand against armies. Through being right. Through being honest. Through being conscious."
"Thirty days to organize a public forum," Tanaka said. "That's ambitious."
"Thirty days to save Kenji's life," Aria corrected. "Thirty days to make humanity choose. Thirty days to prove consciousness matters more than comfort. I'll take ambitious over impossible."
They sent the invitation that night.
Public Forum on Human Consciousness. All factions welcome. Full broadcast. Thirty days. Choose consciously or don't choose at all.
The world watched.
And prepared to answer.