The next morning, the sisters were invited back to the underground co-op. Zara stood beside a large holo-display, now active with hundreds of anonymous users tuning in from secure, private nodes around the world.

“Today marks the first assembly,” she said. “Everyone logged in gets equal voice, equal vote. This isn't about control. It's about shared ownership.”

Rin studied the display. “What safeguards are in place?”

“Autonomous filters, rotating moderation, and all decisions require 70% consensus. If a vote dips below that, the system stalls and prompts reevaluation.”

Rae nodded. “Like brakes on a runaway train.”

Zara smiled. “Exactly.”

As the discussion began, ideas flowed. Some argued for strict regulation. Others pushed for open-source sharing of the cognitive shield tech. A few, warier, questioned what even the best intentions might become if replicated by corrupt hands.

Throughout it all, Rin and Rae listened. Observed. Took notes.

When it was their turn to speak, Rin stepped up.

“You don’t need our approval. But you do need to remember this: evolution without ethics becomes destruction. We’ve lived through that. Our parents fought to give us the chance to choose. That choice must never be taken for granted.”

Rae added, “We’re not here to lead. We’re here to make sure no one tries to lead by force again.”

The screen lit up with acknowledgments. Across languages and scripts, one message repeated:

We agree.

Afterward, Zara found them in the quiet hallway.

“You didn’t have to trust us,” she said.

Rin shook her head. “We didn’t. We trusted the chance.”

Rae grinned. “And we’ll be watching. Always.”

Zara nodded, eyes bright. “Then maybe there’s hope.”

As they walked back into the sunlight, Ji Woo’s voice came over the comms.

“Legacy Network nodes are reporting stability. No spikes. No rogue signals. Whatever you did in there—it worked.”

Rin looked up at the open sky. “Not what we did. What they chose.”