A long time ago we all watched our lives crumble down before us like a never-ending avalanche. We were all shoved in a room with the lights off, stripped away of what sanity was left in our heads.
No one knew what he was thinking or imagining, just that he was a man with ideas and a passion for making a game that would change all of humanity forever. Unfortunately, all we saw was a façade, and a moment too late did we realize there was no going back to the way that things used to be, or at least, not without a challenge.
What we saw was a game and what we were greeted with was a nightmare that was irreversible. No amount of screaming, crying, or begging would free the souls that were trapped for an eternity.
Clear each and every one of the hundred floors in Aincrad, an easy proposition.
That is, if you didn't die.
If you died, you were gone. You would cease to exist in Aincrad and on Earth.
You'd be completely erased and the only remains would be your brain, fried and stuck in a machine, and your limp body, lying on your bed and wallowing in that last hinge of regret for ever laying your eyes on the game that ended your life.