Hello, and welcome to the prologue of Prince of the Iron castle! I do hope you enjoy, as I've had this idea sitting in my head for a while now! Make sure to comment and follow, it gives me the conviction to sit down and write, so please make sure you do! This story will contain a slightly OOC Kayaba, as well as follow an OC of my own creation.

I do not own anything related to SAO or any of the small details from the Type-Moon Fate series! Thank you!

***Prologue***

***Accessing Files-Third Person Loaded***

The soft sounds of night clicked and chirped through the crisp air, the sound of the nearby stream synchronizing an orchestra of night, and filling the classical japanese home with divine music; accenting the calm quiet that filled the air, and making those few sounds that did exist within all the more noticable.

Soft small footsteps broke the peace, as the small child that made them dashed down the wooden hallway, making a break for the door before running across the outer deck. The child dashed across the dark wood before leaping off and away from the warm familiar home, his dark black pajamas making him blur like a shadow to anyone who could be watching, and landing with a soft thump on the stone path that cut through the houses garden. The path led to a building separate from the main home, one that stood across the small stream. A small bridge sat over the flowing stream, connecting the two stone paths like gateway to another world. Unlike the warm dark home, this building held an electric blue light that softly bled from the windows. The child dashed towards it, and when approaching, slowed to a cautiously quiet walk; his black hair and curious hazel eyes searched the building, approaching carefully like a cat.

He moved towards the door and slid it open just enough for a small crack, peeking in and spying on whatever was inside the glowing blue room.

Within the dark building, was a man, who sat in a large black chair and was positioned in front of a desk. Upon the desk, from what the child could see, were a multitude of computer monitors; each one filled with varying numbers, symbols, code, equations, and even 3D models of strange creatures and amazing places.

Suddenly, as if sensing his presence, the man's fingers, which had previously been dancing across the keyboard, came to a rest. He turned in his black chair, slowly coming to face the cracked door and spying child. His gentle face, formerly ground together in frustration and focus, transformed at the sight of the boy; his baggy eyes gazed at the child with poorly hidden amusement, and his frown becoming a smile. The mans almost grey hair, despite his young age, ruffled slightly at the small breeze the crack gave off. His button up white shirt lacked a tie, and it's top two buttons were undone. His arms had pit stains, and the multiple coffee cups that his turning revealed meant that the amount of time he had spent in the small building was likely far longer than the boy had thought. His tired posture confirmed that statement.

Akihiko Kayaba, at the age of 21, looked as though he was so tired, he would mistake a janitor for God.

"Dajuna. What are you doing out of bed?" He asked, amusement lacing his voice, "We talked about this, you can't just sneak out at night. You need sleep."

The boy, now known as Dajuna, opened the door to reveal himself completely, eyebrows scrunched in frustration. He bit his lip, surveying the room completely, before his eyes landed back on the man in front of him.

"Dad, you've been in here for days. You need rest too." Dajuna moved across the room, eyes glancing over all the papers on the desk and code cluttered screen, before moving his gaze to some of the more interesting 3D models that the screens held. Upon one, held a model for a character named Illfang the Kobold lord, and the boy stopped. His eyes widened at the detail, unable to keep in his surprise, before reaching out to touch the screen in amazement.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Kayaba asked, his own eyes looking to the screen in poorly hidden pride, "These are some of the first models that the animation team has given us, and while there's still a lot to work out…"

"It looks so real Dad… This… This is amazing!" Dajuna's eyes drifted over a screen before his breath caught, raising a shaky hand to reach out and touch the picture. "Is… Is this…?"

"The floating iron castle… Aincrad." The man breathed out, his eyes gleaming at the screen, hope and barely contained pride for the picture glistening in his brown eyes, "I thought that you might like that one."

Dajuna's fingers touched the screen before flipping around to stare at his father figure, his own admiration and love for his father present in his gaze, before turning quickly back to the screen.

"You always told me about it… Your dream… You… You always tried to explain it the best you could, but this…" Dajuna's eyes wheld up with tears, the image of his hero's wish blurring in front of him as choked sobs quietly fell from his throat, "It's even better than I imagined."

The man smiled at the boy for a moment, hand finding its way to the boy's head to ruffle his hair, before his eyes drifted back to the screen. He smiled.

"This is only the beginning, Dajuna, the bare genesis of the new world I will create. An amazing world where anything is possible, anyone can be strong, and anyone can become a legend." The mans small smile grew, pure joy and ambition exuding from him like an aura as he continued staring at the screen. "An everdistant dream that will become a reality, our reality, a never ending dream."

The boys idolizing stare shined, and the love and admiration he felt for his father tripled in size.

Dajuna clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and reopened them with a whole new conviction.

"You want him, sir?" The nun asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she gazed over at the black haired child who sat in the middle of the room, staring into the fire unblinkingly. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure" Kayaba spoke, eyes training on the child analytically, before turning back the the nun. "Are you attempting to persuade me to not adopt the child?"

"Oh… Of course not… It's just that, in all the time I've been here, no one has ever wanted to take him off our hands. Most find him too old to be adopted, or too… " The nun turned her body to gaze at the child, the movement alerting the boy to her attention, and causing him to turn his gaze to the adults in the room. His dark eyes reflected the fire, looking almost as if his eyes themselves contained the hellish flame, causing the nun to start and turn back to Kayaba. "Off putting." She finished in a hurried whisper.

"I don't see it."

The woman gave him a strange look before peeking at the child out of the corner of her eyes, only turning her face slightly this time to hopefully avoid the child's attention. "Well…"

"Ma'am. I care not for your personal opinion on the child. I have been approved by the government on all regards, so please," Kayaba turned his back on both the nun and the boy, looking over his shoulder at the black clothed woman before finishing, " Let's get this troublesome process finished yes?"

The woman stuttered for only a moment, before following after him as he strided away, walking behind him as he found his way to the office in the back; The door soon closed behind them, and the boy was left back in the lull of crackling flames.

Two hours later, after all the troublesome paperwork was signed, Akihiko Dajuna left with his new father, heading to what would be his new home, and hopefully, new family.

"You want me?" Dajuna asked from the back of the small black car, voice even and his eyes staring to the front curiously.

"Yes," Kayaba answered.

"Why?" Dajuna asked again, eyes narrowing analytically, speaking more forcefully this time.

"Because, I think you can do something great one day." Kayaba answered again, voice smooth and confident.

In fact, it was so confident, it caught the boy off guard, and if only for a moment… He believed him.

It was quiet after that, and Dajuna was left in thought.

This man had seen something in him that no one else had seen, had believed in him when no one else would; he would do everything in his power to make his father's dream come true. Creating a new world… He thought that was something he would want to see for himself.

"Dad, how's it going?" Dajuna, now a 15 year old young man, asked his father figure. He glanced over the man, Kayaba's obvious frustration was palpable, and the question was more rhetorical than not.

"It's the board… They… They feel as though SAO is going to… Fall through without magic…" Kayaba answered, a grimace making its way onto his face as his fingers stilled and clenched into fists. He stressed a couple words, making sure such frustration and anger was well known to his son. "Fools."

Dajuna grimaced. His father's idea for a mmorpg without magic was pretty far out there, but the plan to rely on the fact that it was the first vrmmorpg in the market to get hype was fairly good. The full dive system was new afterall, and very few games used the tech well enough that the general gaming population was happy. That was were SAO was supposed to come in, a brand new type of full dive game that took the gear to its maximum potential, getting the world well and truly hyped for the game. The problem was that the board controlled funding, and there wouldn't even be a trailer made to cash in that hype if the board didn't approve of the way the game development was headed.

'Damn bureaucrats. Aincrad is 're just too stupid to see it.' The boy thought, thoroughly annoyed. Dajuna grasped his right arm with his left hand, his right hand finding its way to his forehead as he closed his eyes, exasperated.

"What about the unique skill system?" Dajuna asked, annoyed, hand moving from his forehead to gesture at his father for further explanation.

"They said it was amazing, but it was no magic. They were clear that we needed some kind of system that could be a wow factor, like the full dive environment wasn't enough." Kayaba's anger soaked the air, and honestly, who could blame him? Dajuna didn't.

Kayaba's clenched fists slammed onto the table in an uncharacteristic fit of rage, making the mans young charge flinch back and widen his eyes. His father never broke under stress, then again, he didn't look like he had gotten much sleep lately.

"They just don't understand. No one understands!" The man yelled, hunched over as he huffed in his emotional break, tears sliding down his face. The man had no doubt felt snubbed by the men, and his anger and lack of sleep made him susceptible to this kind of break.

The mans fit was cooled when a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. Dajuna stood there, face set with confidence and conviction as he patted his father on the shoulder in an attempt to reassure him, before backing away uncomfortably.

"Don't worry Dad, I'm sure you'll figure something out. It doesn't have to be magic, just something with a wow factor right? So make something with a wow factor that isn't magic." The boy gave a small, reassuring grin, "You're creating an entire world, I know you can do this. You're my hero after all, and if you can't believe in yourself, I'll believe in you for you."

Kayaba watched him with careful and analytical eyes, looking at him as if he was seeing him for the first time, before giving a small smile.

"You are right Dajuna. I apologise, I may have gotten carried away." Kayaba's words croaked across the room, his hands wiping his eyes quickly before adjusting himself. He sat up straighter and turned in his chair to return to his work, mumbling something about heros.

Dajuna smiled. He would continue to support his father, for as long as he could.

Turning to leave the room, he approached the door, before giving out a quiet wet cough. Staring down at his hands, he frowned, before wiping them off on the back of his pants.

He couldn't let his father be distracted by the blood that was on his hands, after all, he had a dream to create.

And he would do everything in his power to make that dream come true.

***POV-Switch***

***Accessing files-Dajuna Loaded***

I remember very little about my parents, about my family, about my life, or even about myself. I remember very little about anything at all.

In fact, I'd say I don't remember anything. Nothing at all.

Nothing before the fire. Before Hell.

And I saw Hell.

The fire that scorched and burned everything in its path, red as the blood that seeped from the cracks of the burns it took as victims. A world that smelled of smoke and death, that was wrought with terrible pain. The heat that slowly choked the earth and sky itself, before even that chose to give in and accept death. The sight of the world around me being lost to glorious red flame, like the breath of the devil and the will of Abaddon came unto the earth like a unyielding darkness. All their was to do was surrender to death, to give in and give myself to the hands of an awaiting God who I knew little about.

But I didn't. I walked, and I saw Hell.

My parents, where were they? I don't know… Are they dead? Probably… I'm so tired, can I rest? No, not now, not ever… When can I rest? Keep walking…

I kept walking, and I slowly killed off those parts of myself that would slow me down…

Where are mom and dad? Are they dead? Yes.

My parents were the first to go. I sloughed them off my mind, I couldn't afford them. I couldn't afford many things.

Can I stop and rest? No, not now, not ever; to stop moving is to die. To die is to be killed, to die die die die die…

The screams of the suffering, those who burned slowly and called out to me, a child, for help. For anything. For salvation. For death.

I never stopped walking, and I lost everything.

I killed my weakness, because weakness was to die die die die die, was to be killed.

I killed my empathy, because I couldn't afford to stop and help the man who burned in the hell flame, screaming and screaming and screaming.

I killed my mind, because it was weak to the Hell that surrounded us, me, us, me. It couldn't take it, so I killed it off.

I walked and walked and walked, never stopping. To stop was to not be moving forward, and not moving forward meant death. Dead, dead, dead, like those people who are lost in the flame; what is this death? This Hell? Who was I?

I didn't even have my mind, but somehow I found the strength to pray, pray to a God I didn't know.

A prayer for Salvation. Not death death death, dead, killed, dead, gone.

But then I lost that too.

So the only thing I had left to lose was my life, and so I finally forfeited that as well.

I fell to the ash ridden ground, so hot, yet so comforting; to just give up, and rest, to dream. Dream of a place that held no fire, a beautiful dream.

But what are you going to dream of? You have nothing left.

I don't care. I will dream, and I can just rest. The grey ground comforted me, like a loving mother taking me into her arms, and rocking me gently to sleep. What's a mother? The screams where drowned out, and the silver moon glistened red in the night sky, like the bloodshot eye of a demon that watched me take my last breaths. I coughed, then, slowly, the smoke somehow cleared enough for the light of the moon to pierce through the darkness; not red, but white, silver. It was comforting.

I reached out for it, to grasp it, and pray that it would take me to my dream.

Instead, another hand grasped mine, and the murmurs and voices that were still dull sound became clearer. The mans face, a black haired man who was dressed in the clothes of a priest, cried out to me. Telling me that everything would be ok, that I would be fine, and that I could live.

I was so confused. So, so confused. Why would I want to live? What was there to live for?

I didn't have much time for my thoughts, and everything went black.

***POV-Switch***

***Accessing Files-Third Person Loaded***

"Heros" Kayaba breathed out, a small smile coming to his face as he wiped it from any food residue, eyes glistening with pride as he started over at Dajuna. "That was what gave me the idea."

"Yes… But what is the idea exactly?" Dajuna probed cautiously, watching the man as he placed his chopsticks on the table, foregoing the food to satisfy his growing curiosity.

The small kitchen and corresponding dining room was quiet as, for a moment, Kayaba just smiled at Dajuna; his eyes still gleaming with pride as he watched the young man, though whether the pride was for the boy or the idea was up for debate.

"Heros have weapons, legendary weapons that held extraordinary capabilities that were thought to be impossible:wounds incapable of being healed, barbed spears that grow within the victim, holy swords thought as peerless, even flags, banners, and shields. The world is full of legends, and weapons to match those legends. Those are what I'm going to use to wow those fools." Kayaba's smirk remained, but he had a sip of the tea that sat beside him as he did so, obviously proud of his accomplishment. "I'm going to call them legendary weapons. They will each grant not only special abilities, but will also give an extreme buff to all the players stats, allowing for amazing levels of combat not achievable by anyone else."

Dajuna gave a small smile, happiness glistening in his eyes, as he closed his eyes and bowed his head at his adoptive father.

"That's amazing father, I'm proud." Dajuna's gaze turned to one of curiosity, and he lifted his chopsticks to take another bite of rice, "How is the system going to work? This sounds like something that could throw the whole system balance out of whack. Any player who gets one of these weapons would be like a god to the others, it would wreak havoc on the balance of the game."

Kayaba smiled at him reasuredly before answering. "Don't worry Dajuna, you don't think I'd make such a rookie mistake, would you?" Kayaba took a bite of the steamed fish that sat in front of him, "The weapons will be powerful, but they will also be quite difficult to get a hold of. The requirements for a legendary weapons creation are going to be quite intense. But not so much so that it would be impossible to get a hold of one, one would just have to be an extremely dedicated player."

Dajuna smiled.

"That sounds amazing father."

Truth be told, Dajuna was quite worried about his father following the outburst a few months ago, and having not heard anything about the topic since then had made him worry about the situation. "I am ver-"

The compliment was interrupted by a vicious wet hack that erupted from Dajuna's throat, blood splattering all over the arm that went to cover it up, and causing the man across the table to raise his eyebrows in alarm. Dajuna went to tell his father everything was alright, when he found he couldn't, and his world faded to black.

***POV-Switch***

***Accessing Files-Dajuna Loaded***

I didn't know my name. I didn't know who my parents were. I didn't know anything about myself that would help find anyone I knew, and in the end it didn't matter.

Blood Tests revealed who I was. Past tense, because you lost everything. You threw everything away. My name was Dajuna Jackson, and my father came from the united states. I look a lot like him apparently, which explains why I lacked the defining features of all those around me. They were all undeniably asian in descent, and I definitely didn't look like I was, even if my mother was apparently Japanese.

Another fun fact, I have no living relatives. Not that I particularly care, but it was strange to realise that I truly had nothing and no one. Nothing except the dream you seek. Salvation. Walk walk walk walk,move forward.

I was admitted to an orphanage, and the staff were incredibly accepting of me, even if I was only one of the literal tens of hundreds that were being admitted and shuffled around to different orphanages. I didn't get along well with the other children, they cried and screamed, and played and cried, and cried some more. They cried for many things, mostly for their dead parents. They were weak, they gave up, they stopped moving forward. I didn't understand that at all, obviously, because I didn't remember my parents. I didn't remember anything, nothing at all. Only the dream.

Apparently, those things were normal for 5 year old children, and it was I who was strange. A child who remembered nothing and spoke to almost no one, a child with dead eyes and a dead heart, and a child who cared about nothing at all. Except the dream.

Children were afraid of me, they thought me strange and called me all sorts of strange, child like insults. Freak, weirdo, demon, dead eyes. None of it bothered me, because why would it?

Adults were cautious of me, treated me with kiddy gloves, and not because of the reasons they did the other children. They weren't afraid I was about to start bawling about my lost parents, no, they treated me with care for another reason entirely, because the truth was…

They were afraid of me too.

The only one who ever treated me different was a priest who came by every once in a while, the same priest that saved me, that pulled me from that Hell. A priest by the name of Kotomine Kirei.

We spoke on many matters, from the fire, to life, morals, death, guilt, and the dream. Salvation.

We spoke on many things, but the dream was the topic I liked most of all.

"They… Say you don't have long to live… How long has this been going on?" Kayaba, father, asked me. His gaze was analytical at best and cold at worst, and his face was scrunched up in a wrinkled frown. The bags under his eyes looked all the more prominent in the luminescent light.

"A few months, almost a year." I answered truthfully, taking a deep shuddered breath that filled my rotting lungs, "I didn't want to distract you from the development of SAO… It's too important."

Kayaba frowned at me even more, his eyes glistening with confusion as his eyebrows scrunched together.

"But what does Aincrad matter to you if you won't even be there to see it?" His voice was honestly confused, as if the idea itself was actually inconceivable to him. Why would it matter to me, if I would already be dead?

"Because, that dream, the one of the floating iron castle… It is a dream I want to help you accomplish at any cost, I want to help you accomplish all of your dreams at any cost." I looked over at him from the hospital bed, smiling a tired smile that spoke of wisdom and admiration, "Because helping you with your dream, helping you create your new world, is my dream. I decided long ago, when you decided to be one of the first people to believe in me, that I would help you fulfil your dream. Aincrad is the most important thing in the world to me."

Lies, lies, lies, lies lies lies lies lies! Stop lying! You care about one thing above all else!

Salvation

Kayaba froze, his pacing coming to a stop, and rotating his body to face me fully. His eyes looked over me, as if he were judging the weight of my soul, my worth, my heart, and then deciding what to do with it.

He grimaced, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I sighed. I hope they at least let me go home, dying in this drab place would be terrible.

"What is Salvation?"

"Depends on how you're asking, and who you are talking about. Afterall, the salvation of others and oneself are two entirely different things."

"But… Why can't it be both?"

"What do you mean, little one?"

They did, in fact, let me out of the hospital and let me return home. They told me it would significantly lower my life expectancy, but I didn't care, I had done what I thought needed to be done. Kayaba's dream would be realised, and even if I wasn't there to see it, I did everything I needed to do. Even if it was stupid and idiotic, knowing I was dying and not caring, I just couldn't find a fuck to give.

I was going to help in someone's salvation, and that made everything ok.

I looked out the nearby window, staring out into the beautiful garden that I had kept in good health for the last few years, and wondered if Kayaba would continue to keep it up for me after I was gone.

He probably wouldn't.

I sighed, that was fine, I was still content. Even if my flowers die because someone refuses to leave his office once every few days. So be it…

Seriously though, I'm gonna haunt his ass if he lets my roses die.

I was interrupted from my musings by a knocking on the door, and as I turned to see who it was, I was welcomed by the sight of my father and Koujiro walking through the door. The young women was following Kayaba like a duckling, as always, ready to do whatever he may ask.

How he doesn't realise her feelings for him, or more likely, why he chooses to ignore them is beyond me. He needs a women in his life, if I'm being honest.

"Dajuna, how are you this morning?" Kayaba asked, his eyes glazing over me as if to search for any visual sign of sickness, before locking back onto my eyes. "You look well."

Now I know that was a lie, but beggars can't be choosers. Kayaba's affection was few and far between, so I'll take what I get.

The truth was I probably wouldn't make it through another night, my lungs were ridden with cancer, and anything more than that would be a miracle.

"I'm as fine as I can get. How are you, Ms. Rinko? Better than me, I hope." I spouted sarcastically, chuckling at myself as the women's eyes weld up with tears and she looked about ready to break down. She probably would have if not for a pointed look from father.

"I'm fine, Danuja, thank… Thank you for asking," She chuckled out wetly, wiping her eyes clean of tears before than they could spill over. She gave me her best reassuring smile, and I gave one in return.

"I'd hope so. Anyway, what… What are you two doing here on a day like this? SAO's beta is going up in a couple hours right? You shouldn't be here." I told them, pausing in between to catch a wheezing breath, the conversation already taxing on me.

"Dajuna… We are here because you are dying… And…" Kayaba stopped for a moment, as if stopping to gain the confidence he needs to finish the statement, "I… We, have something that can help… Something that can save you."

My short breath caught in my throat, eyes widening in surprise and astonishment as I stared at my father figure. I looked over the both of them analytically, looking for any kind of sign that said this was some kind of sick joke, but I found none.

Of course I didn't, Akihiko Kayaba is many things, but a liar he is not.

"Wha… How?" I croaked out, and the man shook his head, locking his eyes onto mine with ferocious intensity.

"How doesn't matter right now, all that matters is that you have a choice. Do you want to live?"

Live live live live live live live, not die, not die, life, SALVATION.

I nodded my head, and Koujiro moved towards me, the equipment I hadn't noticed before coming with her. She sat beside me and began setting up, but she worked so quick all I could see was the nerve gear before I had an IV in my arm and everything was going black.

"There there Dajuna, everything is going to be fine. You're going home, home to the dream." I heard my father figures voice ring through my head calmly, before finishing his statement, "Now, Link Start."

"Why can't someone find salvation through the salvation of others? That means that they can achieve both, can't they?"

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