1: Link Start!

Hi and welcome to my first SAO FF, and I'm going to start off by saying that if you're expecting anything resembling regular fanfiction, turn back, turn back now. Call it frankenstinean since I've taken an anime I like the ideas off, cut off its head and limbs and cobbled it together with every thing I wanted. Characters and situations may stem from SAO but pretty much everything else will not. Expect new storylines, completely edited backstories, and even a completely new and remade game that essentially changes SAO into something completely in a different genre. If that description didn't make you close this, this should: this story is going to be angsty as hell.

Fair warning, right? Well, have fun then, folks. First chapter's always the hardest. Unless you're me in which case it's the second. If something doesn't make sense give it a few chapters and I'll develop it somewhat.

Kazuto Kirigaya has woken up.

Everything before was bleary, cold, stark, a cloud. He was misted over and his world was hazy. He was wiping the dust out of his eyes. He was seeing, he thinks, for the first time. His hands are dancing. His mind is in disco.

He's doing but he's not really thinking. The voice isn't there, that needler, that torturer. It's quiet, and he imagines a large piece of duct tape over its crusty lips. It's a small comfort. His fingers slap plastic, faster, more precisely. Sweat beads his pale forehead, his eyes narrowing. The chair is a throne, but an uncomfortable one. His eyes race across the screen and he fidgets, leg jumping.

He mutters to himself. He's never been a muttering type. Day after day he's been quiet, a metal bucket over his head echoing everything he's ever thought. Shame, doubt, fear. Now, he's letting it out. The anger. Ryu punches. Ryu kicks. Ryu Hadoukens. His opponent flitters about the screen, the only focus, the enemy. The bodies look real, but they are flat, cutouts of humans that dance across their puppet world. And Kaz is the puppetmaster.

Ryu is immortal. Every minute sliver of his health bar means a chunk of his opponent's health disappears. In a final button press, Ryu's blue energy smashes into the opponent, leaving him in a crumpled mess. Game is over and victory... is here. His mouth his dry, so he takes a drink.

In that minute, he has won. World champion of Street Fighter X.

Nobody expected this of him, because this is Kazuto Kirigaya. And he is a failure.

From day one he was cursed. Father didn't stay very long and mother, well, mother was long dead. She still was around but the corpse watched him, and her cruelty knew no bounds. She bore one child, one stalwart black haired boy. She may as well have wrapped her sharp nailed fingers around his infant throat that very day, because for seventeen years, he was always drowning. Mother kept him at arm's length, even when he was a child, and he learned to bubble himself. Mother didn't hug. Mother didn't play. Mother said, and Kaz did.

Kaz was gifted from the start. He read fast, very fast. He saw fast, he moved fast. He kicked the ball and it was in the goal before anyone even knew there was a game to be won. Mother didn't like that, Kaz knew. Mother said that he didn't deserve what he had. How could he, if he didn't work for it? Mother told him to hide what he was capable of. And he did.

He hid it, and he lost. When he was home he learned how to care, not for people, but for objects. Little toy pieces that she didn't care enough to throw away. Mother made him study, but she didn't let him really study. He spent his life looking at walls, doors, ceilings. He dreamed. He wasn't supposed to, so he was guilty. But he dreamed.

Kaz always had such beautiful hands. Mother said those hands were capable of a lot.. A lot of theft. A lot of pain and misery. Those hands should be hidden, she said, and so did the face that controlled them. He wasn't ugly, Kaz knew. In the beginning.

After a few years, Kaz began to learn from Mother that he wasn't quite like the others. Where others looked normal, he was… not. His face was unlikeable, possibly even disgusting. And he saw it in people's expressions. As Mother told, he came to understand how everything she said.. no matter how he hated it.. was correct. People began to look at him with contempt when they thought he couldn't see. He stopped talking, because he didn't want them to hurt him. Why were people so horrible? It got worse the more Mother said. As if they knew. What was wrong with him? They were normal.

He was good at things. She told him that he didn't deserve to be, so he stopped. Class fell by the wayside. Test scores fell from the apex to a pure median, becoming unexceptional, unacceptable. Mother scolded him then, too. She was cruel. She was just. Mother wanted the very best for him, he knew that.

"Girls?" She said, one day. He had told her about the brown eyes that one shy female, hidden under a pair of glasses, kept on him. He had felt stares on his back all his life but these ones, he knew they were different. Mother knew soon, because she had to. "Girls don't want you, Kazuto. Look at me, am I not a girl? I know what girls think of when they see you. It's pity and greed. Nothing about you is attractive, Kazuto. Nothing. They want your abilities and they feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for you, Kazuto. I care because I know you were born like this and you need all the help you can get." From that day on Kaz ignored the spectacled girl. She was sad, he knew. She was sad for him. How could she? She would look down on him like that? He hid it, that ache, that slight flame, because he knew that he deserved it, all of it. He retreated in on himself for the good of everyone.

When he graduated high school he got a job. Minimum wage, low income. It's what he deserved. He also moved out of his mother's house. Mother allowed it because she had taught him what he needed to know to survive. He punched in his number every day, worked hard, and came home. It's all that could be expected of him.

When he won a gaming computer in a sweepstakes he doesn't remember entering, he was lost. He wanted to sell it, and earn himself some money because every single paycheck he sent to Mother was cutting into his food expenses.

Meal money turned into rent, rent turned into meal money, and he juggled them as the floor beneath him fell out. But mother needed the money, he knew she did. It was the least he could do after all she had done for him. So he sent her those checks and she accepted them. He could sell the computer so he had money to pay his rent, and thus more money to eat with. He wanted to eat, he thought.

He played it, out of pure curiosity. He bought a copy of Street Fighter X and it was that game that taught him what he could really do with his hands. It was like being reborn, in a new skin.

Mother never let him play, not like this, and he was illuminated. He lived for Mother, he died for Mother, but he played for Kaz. It was a week before he was good enough to play for real. And so he entered the online world championships.

Kirito, the swordsman, the black biker, was born that day. A grin split his face from side to side.. He forgot how he didn't deserve to win, because he just had won, properly, and he sure felt like he deserved it. His hands were cramping up and the medal was on him, he was on the stand, the crowd beaming, cheering. It was bright, maybe a bit too bright, and he was okay with that, for once in his life.

He blinked. It was now a small room, with a single window choked by rows of neat shades. Everything was in black because it was cheap and he liked black. The dust was coming down around him, and his hands were still cramped.

Mother wouldn't like this if she knew.

That's why she can't know, said the little devil.

He agreed.

It was a week later that he was home from a tiring day of work. White shirt stained with frying grease, fingers slipping on his house keys, he idly flicked open the mailbox. It was always mom's letters or it was his bills, without fail. He knew both were important, so he checked every day.

He blanked when there was a blue letter, crisp and professional, slipped in there among the newsletters and other trash. His fingers were around it and he was in the door, shutting it behind him. He sighed and dropped it on the table.

It was on the table when he went to get changed, and it was still there when he got back. He picked up his violin, chipped old thing, cheap but worth it after every addition he made to that ancient wood body. Experimentally pulling a few sweet notes out of it, he closed his eyes and listened.

Nothing had happened after he had won last week. There were the constant endless match requests that gutted his inbox but once he had figured out how to send them all to spam, his inbox was empty. Nobody wanted to talk to the man behind the keyboard. Good, he thought.

The letter was still there when he opened his eyes again. He put down the violin and he opened it.

Dear Zakeit, AKA Kazuto Kirigaya

You were a hard man to track down. After seeing you rise through the ranks in the fighting game that I enjoy so much, I couldn't help but take an interest in you. I am a man of some decent wealth and favor so I did what I could so you would be able to enjoy the experience that you have had in that game for as long as possible. I have created a game and I want you to be one of the testers. All this means is that in exchange for incredibly valuable information regarding your experience you are guaranteed a free copy of both game and demo.

I formally invite you into the Closed Beta (Testing mode) for my upcoming Virtual Reality game, the first of its kind, Gauntlet Online. You do not have to accept but I have taken the liberty of purchasing you a limited edition version of the Nerve Gear technology specifically so you can enjoy the world I have put so much effort into, first hand. Please do not shy away from receiving this gift, think of it as a bit of advertising. It will ship within the next week and be delivered to your doorstep. The beta will start soon and enclosed is the instructions for acceptance as well as your username and passcode. I wish you the best of luck.

Kayaba Akihiko

It could have been written in french or spanish, for all the sense it made. It threw in so many strange ideas that he just read it over a couple more times. Him? Beta Tester? He had not.. Who was Heathcliff? What?

Kaz was no fool, however. He knew that things didn't come without a price and the more valuable the gift the bigger the price. He massaged his temple, wondering exactly what the price of this would be. Mother would be furious.

Kaz went back to playing the games he had, and did so for that week. He hid, to himself, that the day the large black box arrived in his home, his heart jumped. His knife was out, slitting the box's entrance, and it was then open, cardboard flaps parted, the treasure inside revealed.

He gently pulled out his newfound baby, a smaller box, surprisingly light for such revolutionary technology. NERVE GEAR, in block letters, was the only text on the front. He put it on the spotless coffee table in his living room and threw away the cardboard. On his way back, he was doing a little jog, before digging his hands into and opening it.

Metal, silver metal was tucked away in between two pieces of styrofoam. He cradled it between his long pretty hands, saw his own face reflected in the shiny dome. Visor, wires, logo, game slot. Fingers traced over every feature of the shiny object, and he put it down to scour the box for the rest of its contents.

There was a power cable and a tiny Disc sleeve, with simply the words "Gauntlet Online Demo Edition" scrawled upon it in neat marker handwriting.

He slipped the disk into the helmet and put it on, seated in his couch. The visor made it dark, so dark, and there was a faint whirring around his ears, a little buzz of life. Kaz had always been very good at noticing what was around him, so when he heard the click, he knew the system started. He closed his eyes and fell into oblivion.

When he came to, it was as if he had been dunked headfirst into a bucket of paints. He gasped for breath, and, to his relief, it came in quick bursts. Something was… very strange.

His body buzzed for a few seconds, every nerve displaced, and for that first minute, he was utterly lost.

It came to pass and he realized he was laying in a field, a grassy field. His hair splayed out behind him, and the grass tickled the sides of his face. His clothes were taut, still, and he groaned and lifted his body up. He opened his eyes.

Blue, deep blue skies stretched out above him, infinite, expansive, and he couldn't help but gasp. Vivacious green trees lazed in the breeze, leaves drifting past his vision, and the clouds swam across the sky, soft and carefree. The world sang, as he sat up, with lush greenery and tropical flowers as far as he could see. To the right, there was a huge stone obelisk, worn down with what seemed like years of strong winds and covered in moss.

He rose to his feet, stumbling slightly. His body's weight seemed… off, like it wasn't the same amount. He experimentally took a step forward. And another, his leg bending, turning him off balance.

He focused on walking, and marvelled as the strangeness faded gradually, and it felt… natural. His legs had still had weight, albeit a different weight, and the feeling of walking in someone else's skin was fading as he took more steps. He broke off into a run, his boot-encased feet pounding the gravel, unsettling it with every step, propelling himself further, faster.

He sprinted, the wind rushing past his head, his face. He extended his limbs, let himself catch the air for the first time in eternity. And then he slowed, his feet feeling less like they could carry him.

He stopped, skidding his heels to a halt. There was a shimmering lake in front of him, gravel disappearing under the bright blue, the white sun glinting off every miniature wave. He dipped his hands into the ice cold water and splashed them against his face, gasping as the full brunt of the electric chill made his eyes shutter open. He looked down, and saw. Him.

Kaz was not an ugly man, quite the opposite, really. Pretty. High cheekbones, pale and smooth skin, and full lips dominated his face, and those eyes, dark, flecked with grey, filled those who stared into them with a kind of awe. He poured over every detail, his lids narrowing, and he sighed, and got up. Mother never let him be vain.

Still, he smiled, soaking it all in. What he had seen so far was sweet air, bright colors, and lush greenery.

What he hadn't seen yet was the snakelike barrel of the gun pointing at his head from twenty meters away, poised to strike. The eye blinked, slowing down its heartbeat enough to shoot.

The finger hovered over the trigger for a fraction of a millisecond. In this game, a millisecond could be all you needed to lose weeks of progress. But he hesitated anyways. The rifle was pointed between the rookie's eyes as he stared out over the lake.

Bang.

Kazuto dodged.

The bright green eyes of the hunter widened, his mouth opening slowly, too slowly, as his gun needed to be reloaded. He remembered the gun, and he got another bullet out, hands shaking as he dropped it into the barrel.

Kazuto was gone.

The hunter flipped his scope off, eyes scanning the opposing beach for any singular detail that would lend him a clue as to where his quarry was. Nothing more than a rookie for easy exp, surely?

Kazuto was far away, leaning against a tree.

"Jeez.." He panted.

"Hello, and welcome to Gauntlet Online Demo!" He nearly jumped back ten feet as a chipper female voice made itself known. He looked around, and behind him, he saw a young girl of no more than eight or nine with black hair and wide eyes looking up at him.

Wearing a loose white flowing gown, she had an otherworldly glow about her, and he immediately guessed that this was some kind of AI guide.

"This game is operated by voice commands. Say 'Inventory' to open your inventory!"

He cleared his throat, and repeated as he was told. A holographic display, bright white, a screen hoisted in the air in front of him, appeared out of the void, icons of all types flashing around but the majority of the screen white and empty. His eyes widened, and he moved a glove covered hand to touch it. As his fingertip brushed the surface, it slid, much like an Ipad. As he stepped back, it moved with him, hovering just in front of his chest, like a ghostly halo. He took it all in.

"You are, by default, equipped with a gun and a melee weapon. If you would like to equip your gun, please say 'G' or 'Gun' to pull the gun from your inventory to your holster. More specific commands will activate based on how they are phrased, such as 'G to Right Holster.' You may switch guns by commanding the system to do so or by opening your inventory and doing it manually. If there is a need for stealth, it would be best if you were to equip all the guns to your person beforehand thus avoiding the need for voice commands."

It was times like this where he wished he was the kind to read manuals. Reading all this would have been a bit less… engaging, but maybe a bit less shocking.

"This game is a FPS MMORPG which takes place in a procedurally generated world, which attempts to imitate real world combat efficiently while possessing elements of science fiction technology, from vehicles to weaponry. This game uses the CARDINAL system of stat distribution, which learns how you wish to play and upgrades your stats in an intelligent way, causing your playstyle to advance in skill as you play. In addition, there is an exp system, which allows you to gain experience points based on the opponents or NPCs you defeat."

"What's your name, AI?" He asked. The bot, somehow, looked surprised.

"I am Yui. Pleased to meet you, Kirito."

"Yui.."

"Yes, sir?"

"Where can I find a sword?" He closed his inventory and began to walk forward, the floating little girl following behind him like a guardian angel, or perhaps his own Navi.

"There are Photon Swords, plasma blades which can be turned off or on and take a cylindrical shape. These are capable of cutting through near any object or organic matter in Gauntlet Online. However, these items are incredibly rare. I am not allowed to tell you where to find one."

"A lightsaber?" He asked.

Yui just smiled, bright and childish. He couldn't help but mirror the expression. Another thought popped into his mind, recalling the lake he had just seen.

"How do I change what I look like, then?" Kirito asked, raising an eyebrow. He very well couldn't go around looking like.. Himself.

"Unfortunately, that option is not available in the beta release of GO, but I can assure you that it is a planned feature for the full retail edition."

He breathed in. "Are there things that can hide your face, like helmets or masks?"

"Of course!"

"I'm going to be wearing a mask."

"Would you like me to add that to your mission list? Mask retrieval? Masks cover both the face and the username of the wearer, and prevent analysis from a distance."

His eyes scanned the pop up mission list, his brain cataloging every piece of information that the little AI had given him. "Yes, thank you, Yui."

"So, where do I get a mask?" He asked.

"Well.." Started Yui.

4 Weeks Later

Kirito had been.. Alive. The beta was drawing into its personal midnight, and he had essentially submerged himself into it. What a Joy it was that the day that the beta ended was the end of the weekend, and he had stayed nearly three whole days in full dive, only emerging for the bare human living necessities.

Sure, every day he had to check in, do his work, exhaust himself and come back home and exhaust himself some more in the world of Aincrad, but it never felt like a chore. He had lived, lost, and most importantly, he had learned. Maybe he had not earned all the loot he could. Maybe he didn't have a high score. But in those weeks he had learned about the game to the extent that every single factor was dice in the palm of his hand. He had began to hunt, for the thrill, for the challenge. And this time, the prey was none other than the person who had unsettled him on his first few steps into this world. The high ranking, volatile sniper known as Jovis.

The sniper had been searching for him for quite a while. Kirito stalked through the woods, knee length black coat flowing behind him. He saw through the visor of a black biking helmet, lending him a mysterious and often intimidating air. For him, however, it was as if the helmet was not present at all, and he could smell the sweet air of the night, devoid of insects or any irritating remnants of the real world. The grass crunched under his upgraded light boots.

A casual observer would conclude that he was simply taking in the quiet air of the night in Gauntlet, for the final day. And perhaps, in one way, he was.

In another way, he was on the hunt. He had learned quickly and adapted unlike any other, metamorphosing into a force of nature in his own right. His hand was poised to seize the black Magnum-inspired Stinger with his right hand, a simple, starting level pistol that could be used to great effect.. Provided you had the reflexes and accuracy to hit, with one shot, the head of any pursuer. The Stinger was the perfect tool for a man who operated at mid range and struck like lightning, fast and with razor accuracy.

As if by a sixth sense, he turned his head to the left.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a laser sight on his shoulder. The green dot, unblinking, faint, but undoubtedly for him, made his heart jump with a mixture of immediate fear but also joy. He heard the blast, and mentally cursed as he realized just how far away the sniper was. The burst of bright fire lit up the trees around the faraway shooter, for a second; and then they were gone.

Kirito would have been dead, a bullet pushed through his shoulder and through his spinal cord, dislodging every spinal vertebrae along the way and sending it through his skin and into the grass. GO had an extremely sophisticated anatomical system, and Kirito would have been quite a sight for the eyes, dgone in a shower of blood and bone over the nearby trees. Guts didn't smell in this game so they lingered, in case the respawned player wished to track down their old body and the loot they carried. Kirito could do that, come back for the incredibly valuable loot he had collected, or, if someone had taken it, picked up their trail and gotten it back. This is, of course, assuming Kirito was hit.

He wasn't. He dodged. It was a narrow shot, and he felt the edge of his sleeve tear apart, and the beginnings of a painful (if pain was a feature of GO) injury along his forearm. But yet still he had dodged, and he was away now, darting through the woods, kicking off the trees and following that mental image of the split-second of fire he had seen. Kirito had the Stinger out and clicked the trigger, once, twice. Each shot was impossibly loud, echoing off the thousand trees of the Forest of Canul. Both missed. If Kirito had been a mid range player, the fight would have been over. The hunter would have escaped.

Kirito didn't operate at mid range. This is why he had something else, something that was now clutched between his gloved fingers. His thumb was hovering above the release button of a blue-grey cylinder of metal that was no longer than a foot, and this was his crown, his ace card, and it had never lost a battle yet.

He saw a dark shape hallowed against the trees in the blue moon. He saw the man spring forward, bolting from the sight of the black knight that hounded him. With every foot Kirito ran he became a tiny, tiny bit faster, and as he made it clear to the game that he oriented himself around striking fast and striking hard, he began to speed up his strikes and his run speed. He caught up after a few minutes of frantic running.

He lit the Photon sword, and swung. The trees around them lit up with the purple glow of the blade, and even Kirito, long since used to the brightness, still had to squint as he pounced. His body was in the air, hurtling towards the back of the sniper, who was panting hard, tripping over stones.

All his opponent heard before he was cut down was the zap of a laser slicing through flesh, his own shocked scream, and the beep of his HP hitting zero.