Warcross consistently shows the reader a near future in which a common pastime dominates users’ interest and involvement. The use of the NeuroLink gives those wearing the glasses the capability to replace actual reality with an enhanced reality around them, by supplying a “layer” of virtual reality superimposed on what’s actually there; examples of this include labels on buildings and people, translated words above the speaker of a language foreign to the listener, and “paintable” walls that appear to the user in any color they want.

When Emika arrives in Tokyo, this enhanced reality almost overwhelms the senses: Virtual models show off fashion the viewer can purchase with a tap; passersby show off virtual pets; and “the sky is filled with virtual flying ships and colorful orbs, some displaying news, others displaying commercials, still others just there seemingly because they look pretty” (76). When Emika sees her room in the team headquarters, she discovers she earns Warcross points toward improved levels in her personal account for taking the enhanced features under her control: She can paint her walls, customize her scenes, and swipe her floating monitor from its desk location, all for Warcross notes. This suggests that the NeuroLink encourages personal investment in its daily use, which makes it easy to see how addicting this enhanced reality can be.