Hello potential readers, and welcome to my first attempt at a fan fiction story. Please feel free to give this a read; if you like it, then great, and please tell me what you think. If you don't like it so much, then that's okay too, and I would appreciate hearing your thoughts all the same. This story is based on an idea partly explored on the Sufficient Velocity forums that was basically a cross over of Jagged Alliance and SAO. While good, it is now either dormant or dead, unfortunately. This was the initial inspiration. The main inspiration now is ARMA 3 and SAO. Please enjoy.
Also, Sword Art Online belongs to Reki Kawahara, Aniplex USA and A-1 pictures. SAO and its characters belong to them. Most of the other stuff is mine, except for some of the stuff based in other works. Any similarities to persons living or dead are mostly unintentional, except for where they aren't. Check out the actual SAO because it's mostly good fun, except for the Filler. Enjoy.
Part 1: The Death Game
Chapter 1
Reid Collins
"Yeah, I got my Nerve Gear set up," I say into the mobile phone. "It was a bit fiddly, but it works now. What about you?"
"Easy," says my best friend, Ronan Hamilton, from his bedroom a few streets away in this minor English city. "You should really let me talk to you about computers one of these days."
I look at the smart glass display next to my bed, a low-slung ridiculously comfortable futon. The time and date blink in the right hand side of the mirror: 09:45:23 27/06/2052. It is the summer holidays, and Ronan and I have just finished our A-Level exams. In addition to the general revelling and chilling out, Ronan and I managed to score ourselves a set of Nerve Gear each, a new VR gaming device, and a copy of the first game for this new system: Aincrad Combined Arms Online, a military simulation MMO developed by the pioneer of VR tech: Kayaba Akihiko. He was rumoured to have helped the American and Japanese militaries develop the tech in the mid 2030s, before the benefits of the project were spread to Canada, the UK (which somehow managed to remain a major world player after the fiascos of the 2010s), South Korea, Australia, New Zealand, and lastly to a resurgent South Africa after it consolidated control in the region in the wake of the 2033 African famines. Okay, forget rumour; it's basically an open secret.
The initial software was a military simulator designed to train soldiers in all aspects of modern warfare- not in the operation of complex military equipment, which requires real-life training, but in tactics of all kinds. This would include guerrilla warfare and insurgencies, counter-insurgency and counter-terrorism, combined arms, urban warfare, arctic warfare, jungle warfare, squad tactics, and more. There was some contention over how realistic the original training programs were, but this was dispelled when Kayaba went public with the VR tech in the form of the Nerve Gear V1.0 and the beta for the first VR game, ACAO. One year ago, 1000 Beta Testers from the eight countries to directly receive Kayaba's VR tech were invited on an all-expenses-paid trip to Japan, to play the game at the headquarters of Kayaba's company, Argus.
The Beta Testers were paid exorbitant amounts to find any flaw in the game, and to keep quiet about most of the details except for approved information. From what little the Beta Testers revealed, ACAO was exceedingly realistic- almost too realistic for the tastes of some- with extremely sophisticated AI routines that made the entire game a challenge. ACAO was supposedly based off the original military simulation program, using much of the same programming and assets; however, instead of being used to simulate real-world environments, Kayaba had opted for a fictional world named Aincrad. He had stated in an interview that he had originally intended to make some weird fantasy-style floating castle, but had decided otherwise after his work for the military changed his vision. Now he wanted a game where players would band together for a common cause to become stronger than they could ever be individually, where tactics and teamwork mattered, where men and women working together could build their own stories, rather than one player beasting a level solo.
"Let's talk tactics," Ronan says. "You cover, I charge?"
"Sounds good, but I think we'll have to see what things are like when we start playing," I say. "The weapon ballistics are meant to be pretty on-point, so airsoft tactics won't necessarily work. Cover and concealment will be key. To be fair, most of the shots we fire will be to supress the enemy. So… that part will be kind of like airsoft, I guess?"
"You know way too much about this stuff," Ronan says as I look over my airsoft equipment tucked neatly away in the walk-in cupboard. I smile, close the door and walk over to the bed where the Nerve Gear headset lies waiting, the lead connecting to my computer.
"Sorry," I say. "I understand that this is part of the reason why I can't get a girlfriend."
"Don't worry about it. What about gear? Shall we try and pick out something similar to our airsoft stuff?"
"Apparently, the gear system works in a way that makes older stuff available at the start, before newer equipment becomes available. We won't be able to get our current equipment yet. I was thinking SURPAT; it's an old Russian digital camouflage, not too dissimilar to what we wear now. I could send you a picture?"
"No need, I'll check it out. What about guns?"
"Pick what you like. I'll see what they have." I look over at the clock, and decide it's time to get a move on. "Okay, look, it's almost time to start. I'll meet you at the edge of the parade ground in the Starting City; failing that, just PM me, and we'll find somewhere to meet up."
"Got it. Have fun."
"Yeah. You, too," I say, and disconnect. I finish my sandwich- I get the feeling that we'll be at it for a while, so have had a sizeable brunch- and put a post-it note on the opposite side of the bedroom door telling my family to stay out, before I head over to the bed. I pick up the headset, and turn it over in my hands. It is well made, with all of the tech contained within a smooth white carbon-fibre helmet. There is a comfortable lining to prevent chafing, and an opaque visor extends down over the eyes. Here goes nothing. I place it on my head, and lie down over the covers, getting myself comfortable, before I flip the activation switch and say: "Link, start."
The helmet powers up, and my mind is thrust into a hurricane of colourless static. Blooms of colour erupt across my vision, which suddenly seems limitless, before it narrows down to the usual field of view. The colours blur into featureless white, and a series of status displays collect, one after the other, at the edges of my vision. They then clear, and the function menu appears, in addition to a sense of place as my default avatar- generated from the data provided by the sensor pads that I was required to plaster all over my body before setup- forms in the black glittering space. There are a series of options for controlling Nerve Gear functions, friend lists, social networking, etcetera. I select the option titled GAME LIBRARY, and select the only game present- Aincrad Combined Arms Online.
Another rushing sensation and I'm in front of the title menu. The user interface is clean and polished, and superimposed over banks of windows displaying aerial footage of a fire-fight in a sub-tropical environment, overlain with military-looking graphics- targeting data and vectors, icons for units, and smaller boxes displaying thermal imagery of the same scenes.
"Smooth," I comment to myself as a window opens informing me that I must create a character. Three options are presented: choose a random avatar; create a new avatar; or use existing avatar, which, after selecting the information icon for this option, I determined to use the sensor data to reproduce my actual appearance. I initially play around with the avatar creator, experimenting with different appearances. First I try replicating fictional characters; then exaggerated body builder physiques; then absurdly pretty male characters; then absurdly pretty female characters; then a bunch of other avatars. Finally tiring of this, I choose to use the sensor data to emulate my own appearance, before tweaking it a bit into a form that I find was interesting, but not in an exaggerated fashion.
Satisfied, I progress to the next stage. At this point, there are no options for specialisations; that will come later, after I have played the game enough to decide and train. For now, I am offered the equipment selection screen.
Here, I decide to enjoy myself. I play around with numerous load outs; the equipment available all dates back to the 2000s and early 2010s, so I am restricted to older equipment that is marginally less effective than modern products. As I told Hamilton, I decide to choose the SURPAT Russian commercial digital camouflage pattern for my equipment. In real life, it was only used by a select number of paramilitary units. The colour scheme is that of muted grey-greens, brown, and black, ideal for temperate woodland.
For clothes, I choose a high-necked UBACS shirt, Crye Precision-style combat trousers, and a MOLLE tactical armour vest, all in the SURPAT pattern, and a black tactical helmet with up-armour side covers attached to the side rails that cover my ears and a set of old-style NVGs on the forward mount. After some consideration, I decide to add some extra plating to the helmet to give myself some more protection, and a pair of combat goggles whose elastic straps attach to the side rails. As an afterthought, I take a backpack, a black shemagh, and pads for my elbows. No pads for my legs are needed, as the combat trousers already have integrated pads at the knees. I then select a universal pistol holster for my right hip and a thigh pad with MOLLE straps for my left thigh. Time to choose my weapons.
I choose a HK416D assault rifle on a whim as my primary. Essentially, it is a classier Heckler and Koch remodelling of the old M4 carbine, using a different firing system and a mechanism that was found to be more reliable than the original M4. The D version is the short-barrelled version, better for CQC. I also pack a suppressor, but relegate that to a pouch at my belt. At this stage, not many attachments are available for purchase and I'm running out of funds considering I still need to buy a sidearm, so I choose a quick-release ELCAN combat scope- the singular variable-zoom version, as opposed to the version with a back-up mini-red-dot-sight on top. That I keep in the backpack for when I need it. My side arm is a HK USP tactical chambered for .45 calibre; I also pack a suppressor for it. Numerous frag and smoke grenades follow. Lastly, I take a long combat knife and mount it to my belt. A few more odds and ends go into my backpack, and then I am ready.
I press enter, and for a few moments the screens displaying the aerial surveillance footage switch to a satellite view of the world of Aincrad, before centring on the main continent: to the east, the continent itself, while to the west a string of islands of all sizes stretch laterally, mainly to the north of the equator but occasionally dipping slightly south of that line. It is clear that a wide range of biomes, environments and ecologies will be represented. The satellite view centres on the western-most island, its info tag identifying it as the Isle of Mullira, and zooms down onto a port city at the edge of flat meadowlands with a large parade ground in the centre probably capable of holding every player in the game and then some. There is another rushing- and slightly terrifying- sensation as the view zooms in further and gravity seems to orientate forwards, and the next thing that I know I am standing in the bright sunshine of the parade ground.
The simulation is amazing. There are certain things missing- the warmth of the sun on my skin is muted; smells have less intensity; everything feels like a slightly low-rent version of reality. But it was never going to be perfect. Give it a few more years, and they'll have the processing power and the technology to make it indistinguishable.
As it is, the graphics look real enough to fool my brain into thinking that I really am stood in the centre of a vast parade ground of pale granite, sail-shaped buildings of white synthetic materials and glass soaring over Mediterranean-style houses in the distance, a light scattering of wispy clouds in the sky, low hills and small mountains in the far distance to the east visible behind mid-rise buildings. There is a light breeze playing across my skin and tugging at the edges of my combat gear, and my HK416 hangs down my chest from its tactical sling, swaying slightly. I jump up and down a couple of times; except for some slightly odd inconsistencies- which you wouldn't notice if you weren't looking for them- the pull of gravity feels real. I smile.
After observing my surroundings for a moment, I decide to get a move on and swipe downwards to open up my menu, and select the PM option, using Hamilton's username of Lawman. I send him a message detailing my appearance and location, and wait. Sure enough, a couple of minutes I see a lone figure running towards me from somewhere across the parade ground, waving madly.
"Reid! Reid!"
"Over here," I shout, waving back. It takes a minute for us to close the distance; as we meet, we hug and slap each other on the back. Hamilton is wearing fatigues similar to mine, but of a different style, whilst still bearing the SURPAT pattern. He wears black body armour over this, an olive green shemagh, and a MICH helmet with a SURPAT helmet cover and NVGs on the front. His assault rifle dangles on its sling; I am surprised, as in most other games, Hamilton has a tendency to use automatic battle rifles. As for his avatar, he obviously used the sensor data as a base, and worked outwards. Hamilton in real life is reasonably tall, a bug guy with a build that indicates a past interest in rugby and a current interest in beer, and a thick, well-groomed beard. Here, he is a muscly and heavily bearded operator, operating operationally that happens to bear a slight resemblance to the real Hamilton. I find it quite amusing- especially as he has no idea of the internet memes about stereotypically Special Forces Uber-Operators with absurdly manly beards also operating operationally.
"Ready to kill some f-blarp-ers?" he asks as we break apart, the automatic profanity filter warping the word. I chuckle.
"You get that this is meant to be a co-op game, right?" I say.
"Sure, sure," he says. "It's just, I have to go to work at six. I want to fit in as much gameplay as possible before then."
"Even allowing for an hour to get ready and walk there, and half an hour for a lunch break, that's still, like, six and a half hours," I point out.
"And that's six and a half hours we have to loot as much s-blarp-t as we can get our hands on," Hamilton says, grinning as he slaps my shoulder. He takes up his assault rifle in a grip learned from hours of airsofting. "Come on, let's go!"
"Fine, but we are not PK-ing randomers," I insist. "Unless the b-blarp-ds try it on, in which case, let's brass the f-blarp -kers up."
We make our way towards the edge of the parade ground. Around us, new players drop in constantly, some managing to meet up with their mates, some milling around, and others immediately heading out. Hamilton and I plan our next move as we jog; our next move is to purchase supplies from a vendor in the city, before heading out into the surrounding countryside to see who we can kill. We will need supplies because you can only acquire so much equipment during the character creation screen initially, mainly weapons, standard ammo, and certain other items like lower-tier weapon attachments, compasses and binoculars. In city vendors, you could acquire better and more extensive equipment- though by no means all equipment can be obtained this way. It will eventually be necessary to loot equipment from dead enemies, though this early on we would be better off with the equipment that we initially purchased.
We eventually find ourselves in an indoor market located in a large glass atrium under a white sail with a blue underside, located in the main commercial sector of the city. Numerous players are scattered across the floor, inspecting goods on holographic screens or standing and talking with other players. It is here that I get my first decent look at the other players. As Hamilton ogles a display of a heavily-modified FAL battle rifle, I observe our fellow aspiring soldiers, noting that the most common avatar appearance is that of big, muscled soldiers with serious faces, often with impressive facial hair. Some emulate the appearances of famous actors and occasionally actresses, some go to the other extreme and look absurdly pretty. There aren't as many female players- at least, I assume there aren't because there's no way that this many females would play a military simulator. A lot of the apparently female players here may well be guys; it's not unheard of. As for equipment and load outs, a lot is on display: there is early 21st century equipment from a multitude of nations, and some that couldn't possibly be practical- like at least one stupid cat suit, tank tops and machine-gun belts, and other flashy outfits. Those guys are probably going to get rinsed.
We obtain various items of equipment on the recommended purchase list, such as ration packs, medical equipment and maintenance kits, before heading out onto the city streets to make our way towards the nearest gate out into the meadows beyond. The city does not exactly bustle with life, but there are enough NPCs doing their business and human players doing their thing to make it seem like more than an empty husk imitating life. One thing stands out to me, though: there is a distinct lack of vehicle traffic. To be fair, it is still early in the game; at first, we'll have to scavenge vehicles from the enemy. Later on, when we take territory and obtain funds and resources, we'll be able to obtain our own. As with weapons and equipment, the first vehicles available to us will be older models; according to the beta testers, early enemy vehicles include various old Russian vehicles with a few from other countries. Sooner or later, we'll be using modern vehicles, including modern armoured vehicles, light armoured attack vehicles and VTOLs, and even current generation stealth fighters.
We reach the nearest gate, where a number of players are milling about, preparing to sortie into the no-man's land between the Starting City and the territory of the enemy faction. There will be low-level enemy patrols in the meadows, and in the wooded hills a few kilometres away. Time to get to work. As we pass under the gate, another player- gamer tag "HaruYen"- calls out to us from where he stands with five other players.
"Hey, you guys," he says. He is wearing US Army ACU fatigues in the inaccurately named Universal Camouflage Pattern (in actuality, the pattern is comprised of light grey pixels and was useless outside of a city, a desert, or a city in the desert, whch is why the U.S Army phased it out). His appearance is of a muscled, tall Japanese man with a well-trimmed goatee, and he holds an M4A1 across his chest. "Where're you headed?"
"Out there," Hamilton says, pointing out towards the plains. "Going to get started on killing these guys. Maybe loot their gear. What about you?"
"Same," HaruYen says as he approaches. "We thought about hunting the local wildlife, but apparently, that's something of a pointless exercise since it doesn't net you XP and they don't drop items."
"Makes sense," I say. "This is a military simulator. It would be a bit weird if a bear dropped an AK."
"That's a terrifying thought," HaruYen agrees.
"What if they're Russian bears?" one of his friends says. I chuckle quietly.
"Jesus Christ," Hamilton mutters. "Bears with AKs. We'd be f-blarp-d."
"How about Russian Spetsnatz riding giant bears dual wielding AKs?" I suggest, managing to keep my chuckling under control. Everyone shudders.
"Getting back on track," HaruYen says, dismissing the thought of heavily armed bears and motioning to another player, who takes a small UAV out of his pack. "We pitched in for an aerial drone- nothing major, just one of those civilian remote control things that were all the rage a while back. We tested it out and found an enemy patrol about half a kilometre away in the meadows, but we didn't have the ammo to take them on, so we headed back for that. We're about to head back out, but it would be easier if we had a few more people. What do you say? Want to kill some guys?"
Hamilton and I look at each other. He makes a face indicating agreement, nodding. I shrug. It's possible that these guys might try and kill us at some point, but there are measures in place to prevent PKing- namely, monetary deductions from player funds and HUD icons marking them as PK-ers. These become even more severe if the players are in the same Company.
"Sure," I say. "But how do we know you won't just kill us and take our stuff?"
"If we did, we'd be in the red," one of the other players - gamer tag Akurn- says. "We used most of our funds for the drone." Hamilton and I turn away to deliberate for a few seconds.
"They could be trolls," he says.
"Drones are expensive at this stage. They probably had to pool their remaining funds. You notice how most of them don't have any weapon attachments and basic kit? They probably planned to buy the drone beforehand."
"It's not as if we have any other plans."
"And if they try anything, we can probably take out one or two."
"Then our funds would drop."
"Not if it's self defence. Besides, this is a co-op game. The reward system rewards teamwork, Hamilton."
"This game doesn't have an XP system, remember?"
"It does, it's just not like an RPG. It's for system assist, skills and money."
"Okay," Hamilton says, wringing his hands. "Let's go for it." We turn back to HaruYen and his mates. "Okay, we're game. Let's go kill some folk."
We follow the other six players out into the meadows. The fronds of grass are rendered spectacularly, each individual blade and seed glinting in the sunlight. Copses of woodland are scattered around, and occasionally low stonewalls, modelled to appear aged and slightly crumbling, divide up grassland into fields grazed over by creatures that look like fusions of real-world mammalian herbivores. The entire area is eerily reminiscent of an impressionist painting. The roads are concrete and occasionally asphalt, lined with thick grass, cobblestone walls and trees, with the main highways having ranks of poplars at their rims. In short, large open spaces of waist high grass that can be used for concealment in a pinch and isolated pockets of cover. A fight here will be interesting indeed. As it is, we stick to cover, following the walls to the copses and constantly scanning for hostile contacts.
We come to a halt in the shade of a copse of trees, and HaruYen motions us to halt. The player with the UAV- gamer tag Manato- takes it out of his back pack, and begins setting it up.
"The enemy patrol was about 80 metres that way," HaruYen says, motioning out across the meadows. "They were emplaced in a static fighting position near a road, when we found them. We counted ten, with one armoured car and two machine gun emplacements, not counting the gun attached to the car. They all have light armaments otherwise, mostly older kit. We'll scout them out with the UAV, and then we'll decide our plan of attack. Sound good to you two?"
"Better than just bum-rushing them," Hamilton says.
"Sounds good to me," I say.
Manato gets the UAV set up and sets it to hovering, slowly sliding it out from underneath the trees into the air above the meadow. We watch its progress on the control unit's screen as it rises into the air, before Manato guides it into place over the enemy unit's position. The armoured car- an old Russian model called a Tigr- sits on a lay-by just off the road, a gunner in its open cupola manning the Pecheneg. Two more manned Pechenegs cover the road, and the remaining seven men are spread out behind sandbags and in the ditch at the side of the road. The leader of the patrol, identified by his blue beret, is leaning casually against the side of the Tigr, his G3 slung casually across his stomach with the barrel pointing down at the ground. I look closer, and realise that the man is having a smoke.
"They aren't ready for an ambush," I say. "Their sergeant's just casually smoking. If we sneak up on them we could take them out with a few grenades and a crossfire."
"Priority targets are the gunners and the sergeant," says HaruYen. "We need to hit them before they get the chance to react."
"Prep grenades," says Hamilton. "And you, with the grenade launcher, get ready to hit the machine gun nests." The guy he points to- Akurn, who has an M16A4 with an under-slung M203- looks annoyed at being ordered around by Hamilton, and looks to HaruYen for confirmation. HaruYen nods, and Akurn looks satisfied.
"Anything else?" Manato asks.
"Stick to cover and don't act like a r-blarp-d," Hamilton says. "Common sense, people. It's underrated."
Manato continues to man the UAV from the copse while the rest of us crawl through the long grass at the edge of the field. We have already formed our own temporary tactical net, the stage before forming an actual Company, so we can keep in constant radio contact. The tac-net is only short range in neutral areas- covering about 100 metres- but can be used to form a relay between players. It's range increases when in areas with communications towers controlled by player factions or AI-controlled allied states, and decreases to 50 metres in areas with comms towers controlled by the enemy faction. In that situation, dedicated portable comms terminals are needed to maintain the tac-net. As it is, Manato will be able to notify us of enemy positions, but at this early stage will not be able to share the drone feed with us.
"Keep going until you reach the copse. They're all focused on watching the road at the moment, they shouldn't see you coming," Manato says. He occasionally calls out course corrections, until we are almost on top of them.
"Prep grenades," Hamilton says; most of HaruYen's mates and Hamilton take out frags, with the exception of Akurn, who prepares his M16/grenade launcher combo, aiming at where Manato informs him the closest MG position is. I ready my HK416D, ready to open fire.
"On my count, people… three. Two. One. Frag out!" says HaruYen. They all pull the pins of their grenades and throw, before ducking down into the undergrowth. Several seconds pass; there is some panicked shouting, before numerous muffled whumpfs. Shrapnel shreds flesh and vegetation and dust and clods of dirt are thrown through the air. Akurn fires a grenade at where he had seen the nearest machine gun nest. I fire at where the Tigr's Pecheneg gunner should be, and duck back down as a stream of high-calibre rounds cut through the vegetation above my head. Everyone else starts firing, and HaruYen's team starts to move forwards. One of them- gamer tag "AMO"- stands up, blasting away with his FNC assault rifle, but presents an easy target, and is cut down- rather messily, it seems. There are some very realistic blood effects, and I turn away as soon as I catch a glimpse of his terrifyingly rendered rib cage and the organs contained within.
"S-blarp-t, AMO's down," shouts HaruYen as I take cover behind a reasonably sturdy tree. It doesn't matter; he'll respawn at the parade ground again soon enough. I aim through the ELCAN sight at an indistinct shape moving through the dust and fire another burst. The shape immediately drops as Akurn fires another grenade, adding more dust to the airborne melange of particle effects.
"He always had a habit of inappropriate timing," Akurn chuckles.
"That's too bad. Forget him and move up," Hamilton says, firing off a burst from his SIG assault rifle. I crawl forwards through the undergrowth, bullets snapping through the air above my head. My only awareness of the others comes from the occasional comment over the tactical net and my comrades' vector icons in my HUD. I reach the edge of the undergrowth, and get a glimpse of the patrols' fighting position. A number of bodies litter the ground and the multiple detonations have wrecked the sandbags and torn through the verge. Akurn's last 40mm grenade has torn through the Tigr, which now burns softly, the Pecheneg gunner slumped in his seat. I see the sergeant stumble around the side of the Tigr, protected from the grenade blasts by the Tigr's bodywork. He lifts up the G3- which I see now is a G3A4, the variant with a sliding stock- and blindly fires off a burst, followed by several single shots that take chunks out of the trees behind us. I line him up in the reticule of the ELCAN and fire off several rounds that rupture his head, spraying blood and the remains of his beret into the air. I duck back behind the nearest boulder as the last Pecheneg gunner fires of a burst.
The others push up, firing as they come. The remaining militia troops have retreated to the ditch on the opposite side of the road; four remain, including the last Pecheneg gunner. Bullets thud into our verge, striking another of our team- gamer tag "Rory"- in the torso, above the rim of his body armour as he runs for a sandbag position. He collapses in the middle of the road, leaking blood onto the ground. I shudder; it's too realistic, even more than I bargained for.
"Rory!" shouts the last of HaruYen's team, a player with the gamer tag "24". According to Rory's status bar, he's still alive but bleeding out, and we can't get to him. Akurn tries to reach him, but is forced back into cover behind the Tigr by the Pecheneg gunner.
"Haru, we can't get to Rory," Akurn says. "He'll bleed out by the time we get to him."
"F-blarp-k!" shouts HaruYen. "He's going to be pissed when he respawns!"
"Sucks to be him. We'll just have to meet up with them back at the Starting City," 24 says. "Lawman, Collins, how are you two doing?"
"Surviving," I say.
"F-blarp-king terrified, but I'm okay," Hamilton says, laughing shakily. I know how he feels; this is intense, more real than I thought it would be.
"Only four more, all in the ditch across from you, mainly to your 12 through two o'clock," Manato says from his spot safe in the last copse of trees. I can just barely hear the buzz of the drone above the gunfire; if this were real life, I'd be practically deaf by now, and be unable to hear much of anything. Apparently, the developers decided to tone down the gunshots so as not to aggravate potential customers during the alpha stage. Good call.
Another burst of gunfire from HaruYen's M4 and the Pecheneg ceases firing. Akurn fires another grenade, prompting a scream from one of the enemy troopers. Bursts from 24's MP5 force the last two troopers to keep their heads down.
"Only two more. One is attempting to crawl further down the ditch and flank you," says Manato.
"Got him," says Hamilton as a burst of fire from his SIG assault rifle sprays blood across the ground. "Wait, he's still moving. S-blarp-t."
"24, with me," HaruYen says. "Akurn, Lawman, Collins, cover us. We'll flank them. Manato, give us some heads-up."
"You're clear. The uninjured one is trying to move towards his pal, who is trying to treat himself. Flank left."
"Got it. On my mark, the rest of you give us covering fire."
"Akurn," I say, "Hold off on your grenade launcher. You risk hitting HaruYen and 24. Ronan, just spray them with short bursts. Manato, correct our aim."
"It's Lawman. Come on, mate."
"Sorry."
We start firing, and Manato guides us so that our bullets are striking around the two remaining militia, pinning them down as HaruYen and 24 flank them. Several long bursts of 5.56x45mm and 9x19mm rounds later, and it's all over.
"Clear!" calls HaruYen.
"Clear," Hamilton repeats. I stand, emerging from the foliage as Akurn comes to stand over Rory's body, bending down to swipe a hand over him, opening up a menu that only he can see to appraise his vital signs.
"He's dead," Akurn says. "Mind if I retrieve his gear?"
"Take it," HaruYen says. "We can give it back to him when we get back to the parade ground. Hamilton, Collins, take what you want from these pricks, but kindly leave AMO and Rory. It's their gear, we need to get it back to them."
"Won't they spawn again with it anyway?" Hamilton says.
"Yeah, but they'll spawn with less ammo and supplies so we'll give them their stuff back, and whatever we don't need we can sell to a vendor."
"Fair enough," Hamilton concedes as the five of us congregate in the road, reloading our weapons. "Pretty good job though, all things considered. Only two casualties, and what? Ten enemy troops dead, plus one Humvee?"
"That's a Tigr, Hamilton," I say.
"Yeah, no one cares, Reid," Hamilton says. "I say we divide up the loot, maybe keep each other on our friend lists? I quite enjoyed this."
"Sounds good," 24 says. "Guys?"
"Sure," HaruYen agrees. We swap contact info and loot the corpses, before we meet back together along with Manato.
"Well, it was good meeting you guys," says Hamilton. "Tell Rory and AMO we say hi. So, after you guys get your boys back, what next?"
"More of the same, I guess," says HaruYen. "There's 2000 klicks of hostile territory to take. Might as well get started, eh?"
"Of course," Hamilton says. "Drop us a line next time you need some back up. You guys are alright."
"Thanks, man. See you around." They turn around and start heading back down the road, back to the city. HaruYen turns round. "Good luck, you guys. You're a badass, Lawman! You too, Quiet Guy!"
"You too," Hamilton says. As the others retreat into the meadows, we start walking in the opposite direction.
Over the next three hours, we encounter two four-man patrols and one enemy strongpoint next to a main road containing a further eight men (the latter required grenades again). Hamilton takes a glancing hit to his leg, but otherwise we are unharmed, though running low on ammunition. After the last attack the sun is low in the sky, the sky itself beginning to shift from blue to subtle and amazingly rendered shades of orange and pink, Hamilton and I gather together relevant ammunition from the corpses and the Tigr- this one unarmed- and sit together on a grass-covered berm, which gives us an almost uninterrupted view back to the Starting City, the white sails visible above the tree tops as they gleam in the late afternoon sun. I feel the fronds of grass underneath me, each impeccably rendered, and wonder just how massive the servers and CPUs are that Argus is using to render all of this. Even ten years ago such a level of detail would be unheard of, but for the last 50 years computing power has been increasing exponentially. Only in the past decade has the technology and programming expertise begun to catch up. Now, we're on the verge of a technological revolution and all that that entails, but it will probably be another decade or so before the public sees it. That is the way it has always been. That is how it is with the Nerve Gear and ACAO.
"Damn," Hamilton says, dropping onto the top of the berm and motioning towards the bodies and small, smouldering fires in the strongpoint below us. "Hard work, this."
"It's a military simulator, not Call of Duty. It was never going to be easy," I say. "Still, it could have gone worse. We haven't even died yet, though we'll probably need to acquire some more ammo after this."
"What amazes me is that people still play Call of Duty."
"Quite. But my point about ammo still stands. Your SIG and my HK both use NATO 5.56x45mm ammo, but your SIG uses different magazines to most other guns, whilst the 416 uses STANAG magazines, which are more common." I indicate the ruins of the strongpoint below. "These guys are mainly using AKs at the moment, but some use other platforms. A couple of these guys have been using AR15-type weapons, and the sergeant at the checkpoint we attacked with HaruYen's team was carrying a HK G3 variant, so it won't be impossible to gather the relevant ammo, but I hope you kept your empty magazines."
"Shit, I thought they automatically went back into inventory space once spent…" Hamilton mumbles as he activates his menu, no doubt searching in vain for empty magazines he abandoned in the heat of combat. I leave him to it as I admire the view, until he speaks again. "Uh, Reid?"
"Yes mate."
"You wouldn't happen to know where the logout button is, would you?"
"Come again?" I say, frowning as I turn towards him, before that same sense of displacement experienced during login occurs again and I am yanked into the air, to speed through a whirlwind of colour to come to a halt without inertia in the middle of the parade ground, confusingly enough. More players appear around me in momentary bursts of light, and within moments the vast space of the parade ground is filled with players. Hamilton is nowhere to be seen. There are shouts of confusion, stunned murmurings, and angry exclamations from the people around me.
"What the f-blarp-k?"
"What the hell just happened?"
"Waaagh!"
"Hmm."
"God damn it, I was on a killstreak!"
"Yeah, modern British foreign policy is bullsh- huh?"
The turmoil continues for another minute, before a metaphorical blanket of silence seems to fall over the vast open space. This shuts everyone up rather effectively, due to both the volume control and the impact on the players making them cease to talk in confusion. They all stop and start looking around the parade ground in anticipation. They stop waiting when large holographic screens at the head of the parade ground activate, displaying the head and shoulders of a man wearing an archaic red hooded robe with gold trim, his face hidden in shadow. I get the sudden and disconcerting feeling that everything is about to go to hell.
"Welcome, players, to the world of Aincrad Combined Arms Online," the hooded figure says in a voice that cuts through the sound blanket and reverberates across the parade ground to every player in the game. "My name is Kayaba Akihiko, and you are now inhabitants of my domain. Listen closely: what I am about to tell will greatly affect your chances of survival in this virtual domain."
Oh shit.
"You may have noticed that the logout icon has been removed from your menus. This is not a mistake; it is not a glitch; it is not a prank. You are now trapped within this virtual world."
What are you doing.
"The purpose of this alteration to the in-game user interface is to prevent you from leaving this world before the necessary requirements have been met."
No, seriously, what are you doing.
"Any attempt by others to remove your Nerve Gear will result in a burst of high-intensity microwaves being transmitted through your brain, damaging the cells of your brain irreparably and killing you instantly. A number of you have already died due to such actions by overzealous people in real life, despite the warning contained in my last press release." He conjures up screens from news shows around the world, reinforcing what he has just said, before the screens fade into the air and he resumes speaking. "The authorities are no longer attempting to rescue you. You are now prisoners in my domain, and the only escape available to you is to clear the game."
Why? What does he gain from this?
"Your task is simple: band together and conquer the world of Aincrad, or die trying. If your health is depleted, the Nerve Gear will emit a microwave pulse as I previously detailed, killing you IRL."
I want to see my family again. I want to get out of here.
"Rest assured, I am not without my reasons. You see, I once had a dream, a dream of a world where one could live by the sword and forge their own destiny. My time working with the militaries of Japan and the USA, and later others, changed this dream, but the essence remains the same. You will all become… legendary."
Well, that settles it. We're all fucked. There is no escape. There is no reprieve. There is no alternative. I will have to fight and help us all escape this death game. I may not be the same person I was by the end.
