Myujen
Aincrad Floor 49 - December 21, 2023
I've come to realize one frightening truth about how people play games: the more they try to make their gaming experience efficient, the less they're enjoying the game.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying that efficiency is unenjoyable. Far from it. It's the lack of enjoyment, the lack of fun, that drives gamers to do things as efficiently as possible. That's the point when the game has become unpleasant—a grind, a chore—and the player is trying to "play" as little as possible, while still hoping for some kind of payoff, some kind of reward.
SAO wasn't a game we played for fun, but the same basic principle applied: players sought out efficient farming areas because the payoff was anything but enjoyment. We gained levels to survive. We gained levels to be able to clear the game, to ultimately escape.
Or, in the case of an imminent event, we gained levels to be able to face it down with minimal danger, so we could reap the rewards.
And gamers being what they are, we boiled this process down to the most mindless, ruthlessly efficient process possible.
We fought in the snow outside Myujen, one of the main towns on Floor 49. Though snow slowed movement speed, we found that most of the mobs around Myujen were tougher and hardier—which, in turn, meant they would give more experience per kill.
"Here! I found a pack!"
The Gray Wolves outside Myujen spawned in packs, each associated with a specific spawn point and an area in which they hunted. Like us, the Wolves were efficient in how they hunted: six adult wolves gorged themselves on the innards of a dead moose, ripping the entrails with their jaws. They tore off all the useful meat they could and carried some back to their cubs, who clung together for warmth under a small rock formation nearby.
Six of us fanned out around the wolves, sticking to the trees to shield ourselves from the wind. We checked and nodded at each other; we proceeded in silence.
Sachi led with a Colossal Wave: she leapt into the middle of the pack and blew out a crater in the snow. I dashed in behind her, taking the other three. This was true party fighting: I struck at all three of my Wolves with a Horizontal, and I followed with the 3-hit Sharp Nail combo, slashing across the Wolves at three different angles. The Wolves bit at me, but their attacks were like pinpricks, and my HP hardly budged.
Once I finished the combo, I shouted the magic word,
"Switch!"
The old man Collmenter charged ahead with his gleaming two-handed sword. Its green accents seemed to come out better in the low light, as the snow continued to fall. He cut and chopped at the animals, and his sword made that characteristic high-pitched sound—the kind a sword makes only when it cuts cleanly. You know it, right? Something like shink, perhaps. Collmenter's sword did a lot of clean cutting that day.
When he was done, Peeler switched in as well. He stabbed a Wolf with a single, precise thrust of his spear, and the Wolf shattered, leaving the metal tip of the spear clean.
"I'm really sick and tired of seeing all of you damn dogs! Balls of fur and teeth—that's all you are!"
With less colorful commentary, the process was the same for Sachi's side. She switched with the scimitar wielders, Castor and Pollux, who hacked and chopped at the Wolves in turn. Their attacks were bloody and sloppy—in that they scattered damage particles everywhere, not real blood—but they got the job done.
We dispatched of the adults like clockwork. Each blow was followed by another in quick succession, as quickly as the system would allow. With two switching rotations of three people, we swapped in, burned our longest cooldown strikes, and left the wolves shattered, each of us taking insignificant damage. Our digital wounds closed before our eyes as potions healed the difference.
And when we were done with the adults, we turned to the pups, too. SAO was cruel that way. Most games would make the pups give insignificant experience, but here, the six of them added up to another adult Wolf.
It was too much for any dedicated gamer to ignore. We cut them down, and our reward?
"Hey, Sachi got a level!"
A few thousand experience, a pittance of col, and a level for Sachi, which granted her the ability to shrug off ever more Wolves in greater numbers.
Sachi eyed the level-up screen and battle summary with disinterest.
"You guys think we can go some more? Most of the other packs should've respawned by now."
The chiming of a bell—the distant clock tower at the center of town—convinced the others to sheathe their weapons and wander toward the source of the sound.
"Come on, Sachi. It's noon. Time to eat and take a break."
That was Castor, his nose already turning up at the distant scent of food. He and Pollux led the way back to town, but Sachi lingered behind, peering around the trees. I called to her,
"Sachi!"
With downcast eyes, she followed me, her footsteps sinking only softly into the snow. A light, almost ghostly crunch with each step, nothing more. You see, even as we ate, every second wasted was potential experience lost.
There were only three days to Christmas Eve, after all.
Only three days to the coming of the Christmas boss.
Only three days to the opportunity to win a rare resurrection item, on which the six of us had pinned our hopes.
And to take a break from that for long? That was inefficient.
#
The town of Myujen was the ideal settlement for progression raiders looking to hole up for Christmas week. It boasted a good concentration of apartment-like housing, so many of the transient raiders—who had no homes of their own—had found cheap accommodations there. Myujen was reasonably entertaining, too, as the central market had put a giant Christmas tree on display. NPCs gathered in the market three times a day, bringing songs and dances and other festive activities to the weary playerbase.
That so many people had made Myujen their home meant many of the taverns in Myujen were crowded, but for efficiency's sake, we ate in Myujen anyway. The Skewered Lamb Inn offered lamb chops with mint sauce as a special, and the Gemini twins, both of them "stout yet healthy," could order enough lamb for ten people just by themselves. Then again, they would pay for all of it yet typically only eat about half, leaving the rest of us to clean up after them. For some reason, they never noticed this.
"It's not a guild if you can't eat, drink, and be merry with one another, right?"
So Pollux liked to say. It's not much of a guild when your group of almost thirty players is whittled down to just six.
But that's what we had: just six of us left from In Mem, in pursuit of this mythical resurrection item. Some had followed Ezekiel, forming a new guild of their own. Others had simply left, joining established guilds or no guild at all. Those that had left, in large part, gave on In Mem to continue raiding. We were no different, though: we gave up on In Mem's mission, just to shoot for something fantastical. An item that could bring back the dead offered safety and hope for those who lived. It offered a chance to make up for past mistakes, too.
"For Aurora."
That was the toast we shared at the end of a morning grind, and in silence, helpings of lamb were passed around. Peeler was the first to speak.
"Kirito, any word from Argo? The competition can't be more than level 57, 58 by now, right?"
"She said the top leveler is 61, with at least two dozen players up to 59."
"Damn!"
Shaking his head, Peeler took a gulp from his mug.
"Those ants need to be nerfed into the ground."
Collmenter shrugged.
"You do know they live in the ground already, right?"
"You know what I mean, old man."
The raiding guilds had a favorite farming spot on Floor 46—an anthill. The ants had low health and damage reduction, and once you had enough levels to shrug off their damage, they were good fodder to kill. So popular were the ants that the raiding guilds had established a strict schedule for different guilds and groups to use the anthill farming ground, and Pollux argued that we should go there:
"If we can't beat 'em, join 'em, I say! Let's head down there for an hour and soak up some sweet, sweet XP."
Sachi hardly looked up from her plate—with a tiny portion of lamb half the size of her fist, and nothing more.
"We'd spend forever getting down there and waiting. It's better to just stay up here, isn't it?"
Collmenter coughed at that.
"We spend an hour and a half up here to get as much experience as one hour on the anthill."
"It takes half an hour to get to and from the anthill, so that's an hour gone unless we use crystals. Right now, you can get time there maybe every six hours? I don't think we have any choice but to stay up here."
"I wouldn't mind taking an hour or so during our grinding sessions just to clear my head."
"Don't you think we have enough breaks?"
Without physical fatigue in the game, the only limiting factor on a player's ability to farm was mental fortitude. How long could a person stand those repetitive actions? How long could he keep going until he needed to just close his eyes and not think for a while?
Sachi's attitude toward rest was pretty simple, though:
"Every minute we're not out there, the other guilds are getting stronger, and they might leave us behind."
It was a miracle we'd managed to negotiate even a lunch break out of her. But, while we were on break, I had hopes we might do more than just shake off fatigue from farming:
"We're all going to take it easy for a bit. Should we do a support group meeting now?"
The elder of the Gemini twins, the green-haired Castor, gave a quick laugh and brushed off the idea.
"I think Pollux and I are going to take a nap before we go farming again. Maybe we'll have time for that after Christmas, don't you think?"
Peeler nodded in agreement.
"Just being here is enough to take my mind off things. Never was a big fan of talking about 'feelings' or anything like that."
Sachi, too, politely declined the idea, pushing her half-eaten portion aside:
"I was going to check with the information brokers about experience buffs or anything else that might help us. I think we're running low on potions, too. Kirito, do you mind stocking up?"
I stared, open-mouthed, but I nodded once, and Sachi rose.
"Okay, thanks. See everyone in an hour, yeah?"
And that was the way it was. Shooting for the Christmas boss was all that mattered, and not even everyone believed it would drop this supposed resurrection item. In the words of Peeler, some days before,
"It's probably a damn joke, you know? I'm just counting on the loot. If we do get that item and get Aurora back, great. She was good for us. She didn't deserve what happened to her, but I'm not getting my hopes up. If we get some rare items, we can kick some monster ass and not end up victims like her. That's all we can count on."
So, in the event we found no salvation or hope in the Christmas boss's belongings, at least we would get some powerful loot. What a consolation prize.
After lunch, I stopped by the Myujen market. I stretched my arms. I yawned. In that bustling place of commerce, the hushed tones of a Christmas carol soothed my weary ears, and I closed my eyes to the music:
Silent night, holy night,
All is calm, all is bright …
The carolers were a quartet of NPCs, singing under the shadow of the large Christmas tree. It was a scene that would've been common in any shopping mall or outdoor festival, with carolers in felt hats and stockings. Never mind that such joy and happiness seemed at odds with the stark reality of the game. A small crowd of interested players had stopped to listen anyway.
Among them was a man in a red bandana, with a katana sheathed at his side. And just was my luck, the carol was ending:
Radiant beams from they holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord at thy birth!
Jesus, Lord at thy birth.
I did an about face and walked with deliberate, unhurried steps from the market, but—
"Yo, Kirito!"
But Klein had a sharp eye.
I stopped, pulled up my coat collar to protect against the cold and snow, and faced back into the market, where Klein was jogging toward me.
"Hey, Klein."
"Hey yourself! What have you been up to? You and Sachi just disappeared from raids all of a sudden. What's the deal?"
I let out a sharp breath at that.
"You're going to pretend you don't know?"
"Huh?"
He looked around and scratched his head in false innocence.
"What do you mean? It's a simple question, isn't it? Anyone would ask."
"People who've bought information from Argo about my activities would ask, too, only to pretend they don't already know."
"Say what?"
He hissed, shaking his head.
"I buy from her, and then she sells the fact back to you? She really is a rat, isn't she?"
"She is."
Klein sighed, appreciating the truth of those words. Back under the Christmas tree, the carolers started a new song.
The first Noel, the angels did say,
Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay…
I motioned to Klein to follow me, away from the music and the rest of the crowd. He fell into step at my side, saying,
"So it's true? There's a res item on the Christmas boss?"
"That's what Argo told me."
"Geez! I thought you guys were leveling like something crazy, but it didn't make sense that you'd do it just for loot. You're working yourselves into the ground!"
I scoffed.
"As if you guys haven't been out on the anthill at three in the morning. As if gamers haven't been pulling all-nighters to stalk rare spawns ever since the first MMO was ever made."
Klein stepped in front of me, his face serious and reproachful, as a father would instruct a wayward child.
"But we rest, Kirito. We farm in shifts, and no one goes hunting without at least five other people watching his back. And when the first MMO came out, people wouldn't lose their lives for just falling asleep at the keyboard! Look at yourself, man! You're working yourself into the ground!"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"That's what frightens me. Kirito, I know you've always been aggressive about leveling, but you know as well as anyone how dangerous it is to level nonstop. Just how far are you going to push yourselves?"
"I would never let a group continue to fight without adequate safety margin. I've made that mistake once already. Do you think I would really let it happen again?"
Klein sniffed at that.
"If that's how you're going to be, I have no place to argue. Am I keeping you?"
"I need to get some potions; then we're back at it."
"Same for me, really. Just getting a few things and then back to work."
He slapped me on the shoulder.
"Be safe, Kirito."
"You too."
Klein nodded, and he cast an eye toward the carolers once more, smiling as he listened to their harmonious tones:
They looked up and saw a star,
Shining in the east, beyond them far:
And to the earth it gave great light,
And so it continued, both day and night:
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel,
Born is the King of Israel.
In the cloudy sky of Floor 49, there was not a star visible, and there hadn't been for many nights. Not even the sun at high noon had made an appearance, not as long as we had been there.
Klein and I separated, and I checked my inventory for what we needed. A good rule of thumb was to stock up for a whole day at a time. In the next twenty-four hours, we would grind until dinner, take a break, grind until two or three, then rest for a few hours. Then, come eight o'clock sharp, we'd be back at it. Potions lasted ten minutes at a time. Six potions an hour, sixteen hours a day that we farmed. Two of us needed potions at all times; the others only needed potions when they took some incidental damage, maybe twice an hour unless things were going badly.
So it was six and two and sixteen vs. two and four and sixteen and…
Damn. That's what I get for relying on computers to do arithmetic, right? The numbers just kept getting jumbled in my head. 12, 120, 72—they all mixed together in an incomprehensible mess. I had to go to the potion merchant just to get a straight answer on a number. He said,
"You want 320."
"320? You're sure?"
"Yeah, look: 6 by 2 by 16 and 2 by 4 by 16, right? So you take the 6 and the 4, and they make 10. 10 times 2 is 20. 20 times 16 is 320."
I went over that three times to be sure, imagining the digits in my head. No, he wasn't cheating me. It really was that simple.
"That'll be just 2500 col per stack."
I froze, going wide-eyed.
"Easy, easy. Just 20k, all right?"
That's right. Potions came in stacks of 40, so it was 8 stacks. 8 times 2.5…yeah, any grade-school kid should've been able to do that.
Anyone in his right mind could do that.
I finished the transaction with the potion merchant, and I opened my interface window to write a message.
'Sachi, let's go home for a bit. Let's take a nap and recharge. Even when we outlevel mobs as we do, it's smart to be at our best, right? Meet me at the teleport plaza. We can go home together, okay?'
I waited, and I waited. I camped out at the teleport plaza, in the faint shadow of the clock tower, and let the snow collect on my shoulders. It was an icy mantle, and it provided me with no warmth.
Her message back came almost half an hour later, saying simply,
'Don't be silly. It's almost time to head back out. That's what we told the others, isn't it?'
#
Over the next few hours, the signs I'd missed before became obvious and painful. Mistakes I'd once dismissed as ordinary lapses betrayed their true origins: fatigue. During a break between pulls, I caught Collmenter resting with his sword dug into the ground. He put all his weight on it, driving the tip to the earth. That contact meant a continual loss of durability, and Collmenter's weight only exacerbated the issue. I called him out on this, and he apologized, saying,
"You're right; I'm sorry. Didn't even notice I was doing that…."
Castor and Pollux dealt with fatigue differently: they kept eating. Food wouldn't give you energy in SAO, but the sensation of fullness was often believed to help cope with fatigue. It was some extra stimuli to keep the mind occupied, but it was inefficient. The twins had to carry all the weight of that food with them, slowing the whole group down.
And Peeler was one to harp on inefficiency, or anything else that irritated him:
"Why can't you two slowpokes keep pace, huh? This is really cutting into our XP per hour, you know!"
I told Peeler to take it easy; it was a grind after all, not a sprint, but he didn't take kindly to that.
"If I ask one of those two to switch and they're too busy gorging themselves to get in position and swing their scimitars, we're going to have a problem. That's all I'm saying."
Perhaps the only person not visibly affected by our arduous farming schedule was Sachi. With each pull, she was a quiet machine: she deflected blows with her shield, executed stuns, maintained threat, and combo attacks to add some extra damage.
But even as we reaped in experience, items, and col, I never caught her truly happy about what we were doing. When Collmenter hit 61 midway through that afternoon, the others gave him a good high-five or cheered. I think I broke into a smile when I saw him try out a new two-handed sword skill that he'd unlocked, but Sachi? She didn't say a word about it.
"Do you guys think there's another group over the hill?"
There was a group over the hill, and on the hill after that, and on the hill after that. That was the one constant in our grind: low downtime between groups. I hadn't noticed it because I was used to it. It's how I'd leveled for many months on my own. I'd come out during the nights, when the best leveling spots were underpopulated, and I'd just go at it. If anything, it was easier as a group, if slightly inefficient.
Still, this quick pace was all Sachi's doing. She was the main tank; she set the tempo, and she never waited long.
Long hours of grinding. Constant combat. These were the ingredients in a recipe to wear people down, and I asked the others, outside of Sachi's earshot, if they were having the same issues I had felt. Their responses were all fairly similar. In Collmenter's words,
"It's just for a few more days. When we get to Christmas Eve, we should all finish the levels we're on and take a rest. Be fresh for the night. Then, it's over. We just have to make it until then."
So we kept on. We slaughtered Wolves and other animals to the wee hours of the morning. When we stopped at 3 AM, the first words out of her mouth were,
"Please, everybody, be back here and ready at 8, okay? I feel like we're taking too much time to get started."
And we headed home to rest, for a while. The walk home from the Londinium teleport gate was the longest walk I could remember taking in that game, and it was a good five minutes after we'd left the plaza that I blurted out,
"Aren't you tired, Sachi? Do you think we're going at this too hard?"
She shrugged.
"Not at all. I feel like I could keep going. We're really close to being able to handle that boss, aren't we? We just need to get a couple more levels. I don't want to feel like we slacked off now."
Sachi carried that attitude into the night. Even when we turned off the lights to sleep, I caught her staring at the ceiling. She lay in bed like a stiff board, legs straight, arms at her sides. I whispered to her,
"Are you cold? Come closer."
"It's fine. Don't worry. Just get some sleep."
I turned aside, hiding my eyes. I stared at the wall. I listened to her breathing. I recited all the names of the floor bosses in my mind: from Illfang to Hecate to Loptr and beyond.
It was as I was making my third go-round that Sachi got up. She tip-toed to the door and inched it open and shut. Then she did the same to the house's main door.
I sighed, and I opened my game map. A green triangle wandered through the Londinium streets to the teleport plaza and vanished. I had to check the guild list to see where exactly she'd gone.
Floor 46. The anthill.
The trek back to the teleport gate went by in a blur. I pushed my feet to go onward, even though they felt numb. I couldn't burn a teleport crystal just to get out there. The cooldown wouldn't finish by the time I made it to the anthill. It was never a good idea to go into the wild without a teleport crystal ready to use, especially at that time of night.
I teleported from Londinium to Ulyssippo, the town on Floor 46 closest to the anthill. Even at night, the city had a majestic feel to it, for moonlight shone on the castle on the hill and the city that had been built—or, perhaps, generated—beneath it on the way to the water. The red rooftops were faded at night, but they still stood out against the white-walled homes and other buildings.
The anthill wasn't far from town. Once you reached the other side of the castle and left the walled city, it was a five-minute hike to the edge of the Ants' territory. The place was well-known and well-guarded. Some representatives of the raiding guilds oversaw all farming on the grounds. That day, they were some men from Spirit Kings that I was unfamiliar with. One of them stopped me at the entrance to the grounds:
"Hey, you can't come in here. If you want some time on the anthill, you need to get in line."
"I'm not here to farm; I'm just looking for my guildmate. Have you seen her?"
The Spirit Kings guard squinted at my guild icon.
"Cat on a moon, huh? That the same guild as the girl who comes here by herself?"
The other guard nodded.
"All right, if you're with her, you can stay. She's got at least forty-five minutes before her time's up. If she says you're not with her, though, you gotta go. Got me?"
I nodded, and the guard escorted me onto the grounds.
We made our way around one pack of Ants near the entrance, staying near the perimeter of the area. One pack was unavoidable, so the Spirit Kings guard took out a mace and beat the creatures back despite their huge jaws and acidic mucous. Like most mobs in the outdoor world, the Ants wouldn't follow for you too far from where they'd originally stood, and they'd eventually retreat back to their starting locations like dogs on leashes. The only problem was that the Ants were very, very fast, but my escort did his best to stun, wound, and otherwise incapacitate the creatures as we made our way around. I commented on his approach:
"You don't seem to want to kill them."
He grimaced.
"I couldn't if I tried. Not high enough on the guild totem pole to get time in here and stand guard like I've been asked to do. Your guildie must be pretty hot stuff."
We ended up going around half the anthill and at least three different entrances to the giant colony beneath us, but after a fashion, we found Sachi with a group of three Ants. She calmly stunned the whole group and proceeded to cut them down with a deliberate series of slashes and combos. When she finished, the Silver Flags guard called out,
"Miss! Is this guy with you?"
She turned her head like an ostrich on the savannah.
"I wasn't exactly expecting him, but maybe I should've. He's with me, yes."
The escort nodded to me casually, and I joined Sachi at the mouth of an entrance to the colony.
"How long have you been coming here?"
"Only three days. I can't really do too much because the rest of you would notice if I gave up too many last hits."
"Surprisingly well reasoned…for someone who's doing something incredibly reckless right now."
She raised both eyebrows, unimpressed.
"Is that really saying something, coming from the paragon of single-minded recklessness himself?"
"That's how I know this is reckless; this is exactly the kind of thing I would do. Let's go home, Sachi. Let's go home and sleep."
"You think I can sleep?"
"Coming out here to fight won't bring you peace."
"I know."
She glanced down one of the colony entrances. Far below us, Ants scurried about in packs, aimless in their wanderings except to pose a constant threat for the unwary adventurer who might lose track of them. Sachi watched a pack run out of view, and she sighed.
"I know there's not much of a chance, that the odds are against us, but if there's even a sliver of hope that the boss will drop the res item, I need to know we'll down him and get it. The last thing I want to do is stand up in front of that boss and engage him, only to find out we can't win. If we can't do that, if we can't bring back Aurora and everyone else who's died wrongly here…"
She trailed off, looking forlorn, but I circled around to catch her eye.
"You can't put too much hope into this. We don't even know that the item would work for Aurora! Or for the guild! How long do you think Kayaba would keep their bodies around, waiting to kill them?"
She shrugged. She even began to giggle.
"I don't know! It's crazy, right? I don't know, but I know I have to try. I will save someone who didn't deserve to die. If I can't do that, then I'll have nothing. There won't be any point to being here anymore. I'll have nothing at all."
Hearing that was like getting slugged in the gut.
"Nothing at all, huh?"
She smiled sympathetically, and she took me by the hand.
"Don't take it the wrong way, Kirito. You've made being here, suffering through this horrific game, something I could bear for a while, but nothing's changed. We're still victims of this game, and it's not just Kayaba's cruelty we're victims of: it's from other people here, too. I can't sleep, Kirito, but I'm tired. I'm tired of making friends just to see them suffer and die. If we can't make the world bearable again, then I don't want to be a part of it. I don't think I could stand it. I just couldn't."
I closed my hand around hers and tugged lightly.
"Sachi, that's fine; it's not wrong for you to feel that way, but you need to come home. It isn't safe here."
She cocked her head.
"Is anywhere safe? Our bodies are withering in the real world regardless."
"There's a difference between dying years from now and dying tonight!"
"Of course there is. The difference is how much we have to endure before it's all over."
And with that, she let me go. she gripped her sword tighter and scanned the area for packs to pull.
"Come on, Kirito. Let's group up and kill some Ants."
I stared at her, gawking like a fool, but those hollow, defeated eyes of hers stirred something in me—enough to make me shake and quiver.
Enough to make me sheathe my sword. I pursed my lips and said,
"No, sorry. This isn't good for either of us. This isn't healthy, and we should go."
"Well, I won't."
"Then I won't stay here, either. I won't stay and watch you flirt with death or hear you refuse to listen to reason."
I offered my hand.
"Come home, Sachi. Please."
She sighed again, but a group of four workers caught her eye. She looked to them and back to me. She shut her eyes and sighed.
"I thought you understood me."
And so she trotted off to engage them, leaping into the middle of them without another word.
I didn't even wait there for Sachi to finish. I burned a Teleport Crystal to go back to Londinium, and I made the long walk from the gate to home alone. Londinium was dead quiet at that time of night, with only a few interspersed lamps to beat back the darkness. Where the lamps' light gave way, there was no telling where the darkness ended and my avatar's body began.
Compared to that, the light inside the house was blinding. It stung my eyes, and I dialed down the lamps as I passed them. I switched back to my sleeping clothes, and I stood in front of the bed—the bed with black sheets, the bed that was too big for one person. Sometime later that night, Sachi would come back. She would lie down beside me and pretend to sleep for a few hours, until it was time for our morning grind again.
My stomach knotted, and I think that's when I decided what needed to be done.
I snatched up my personal chest and dematerialized it. I labored under its weight, but I stepped out of the house just as the first fingers of dawn arrived.
We'd always hated the house, in a way. We'd hated how big and cavernous it always felt, for it was like an open wound that would never heal. And yet, as I left the house, I stood on the threshold between the street and the path to the gate. I looked back on that terribly ostentatious, extravagant villa.
And I fell.
I fell to my knees, and I wept there, on the road in front of our house. I broke down in the street with NPCs watching. My failure washed over me like a cold, soggy blanket on a rainy day.
But my failure wasn't yet complete until I took the first step down the road. It was a stubborn, stupid thing to do, but I was tired—too tired to stop.
Sachi and I were the same in that way.
We'd both given up hope on something dear to us.
#
I took my things over to Agil's place—a small, private apartment near the Londinium market—and crashed for most of the day. It wasn't like I hadn't been through long nights of gaming before, but this grind for the better part of two weeks had taken a lot out of me. I'll gladly farm experience in the wee hours of the morning to avoid competition, but that didn't mean I could go all day without a little rest to prepare for it.
I slept almost ten hours, but even when I awoke, Agil wasn't back from the market. For a while, I lay on his couch and stared at the ceiling. It wasn't unlike the first few days in Aincrad—waking up to an unfamiliar place, to a room layout that was foreign and disorienting.
During the day, the apartment building—or insula, as they called it in Londinium—was mostly quiet. Shops and businesses occupied the ground floor. Apartments on the next floor, like Agil's, were the largest and best furnished, and they had a common balcony for neighbors to meet and talk to one another, but that day, the dark iron balcony was quiet, as most of Londinium had become.
It was something of a surprise to realize I didn't mind that. I took some comfort that I could hear birds chirping from a tree outside. I didn't have to prepare dinner or tend to the garden out back. I could stretch, walk about, and even stomp my feet on the floor a bit, and no one cared. The NPCs in the shop below certainly didn't care.
There was no one else around who would care.
That was a weird feeling. It wasn't freeing because, well, that implies some enjoyment of it. There was some relief, yes, but also an emptiness to it. I'd cut something out of my life, but I had nothing to replace it with.
It was an hour until Agil arrived—his inventory full of groceries and knick-knacks like spyglasses, pocket watches, and other unusual items.
"Doing better, Kirito?"
I told him how the solitude had affected me, and he didn't seem too surprised. As he put his purchases away in an iron-bound chest, he said,
"I've heard a lot of stories like that. My mom and dad were in the army, right? As a kid, I used to play with another brat, the kid of some friends of theirs. The dad was having a tough time after having seen some action, and eventually, it got to the point where the mom just couldn't deal with it anymore. She took the kid and left; she went back to the States, just for her own sake."
"And how did that turn out?"
"I kept up with my friend through emails, and—"
"Wait, wait, they had email back then?"
Agil shot me a cross look, his finger hovering over chest management interface as though it were ready to press something out of existence.
"Very funny. I may be a little older than a runt like you, but I'm not ancient. We did have the Internet back then, just don't ask me about dialup, all right?"
He cleared his throat, and he went on.
"Now, as I was saying, I kept up with my friend from time to time. He was happier being away from his father, definitely. The separation was good for him and good for his mother. Sometimes you do just have to let go."
"But what about the father?"
"What about him? What if I told you he overdosed on heroin and had to go into rehab? What if I told you instead that he became a successful security consultant for a large company? Would telling you those things affect the decision you made?"
He had me there.
"It's too hard to know what will happen, so there's no sense in worrying about it. Is that what you're saying?"
"Not just that. If you do predicate your decision on putting Sachi's wellbeing first, you'll be right back where you started. You're no help to her if you're constantly putting her health before yours. You have to be in a position to help her before you can actually try to do so. You need to remember that, Kirito."
"But what about the father? What really did happen to him? Did he turn to drugs, or was he a success after all?"
"He did both those things. Life's complicated. Success doesn't always lead to more success, but failure doesn't always lead to more failure, either."
I scoffed.
"Are you sure you just run a restaurant in the real world? You sound like you should do business as a guru."
"What do you think a bartender is?"
Couldn't argue with that logic.
"You've got a few days before Christmas, Kirito. Take this time to reflect and rethink your actions. This is a chance for you to be better prepared the next time you see Sachi, and you need to be prepared. You can't let her frustrate you, and you can't let those frustrations boil over."
"And what happens with her until then? Until I'm 'ready'?"
"I'll keep my ear to the ground; if something's going on with Sachi or the others that are left in In Mem, I'll tell you, but don't put too much pressure on yourself, yeah? Her judgment may be impaired, but Sachi will try to see things through, I think. That means you have until Sunday to decide how you want to approach her."
So I'd sit on my hands for two whole days while Sachi was still out there, grinding with the group for 8 in the morning to 3 o'clock the next day? And as she filled up the dead time hunting ants all alone?
It was tough to accept, but Agil was right: this was no time to be rash. I'd made a snap decision to leave Sachi already. It would've been foolish to rush back in headlong without having thought things all the way through.
Sachi believed there was no hope left for us if we didn't get the res item, if someone like Aurora couldn't be brought back. The best I could do was to keep in mind Aurora's advice from our therapy groups: that we'd do the best we could to help, but we wouldn't always have all the right answers; that we'd help as long as we were able, but we might not have the ability, or the energy, to help at a cost to ourselves.
And for a day or two, I thought that was enough. I'd planned to go to the fir tree on Floor 35 and wait as Sachi and the others engaged the boss. Once they were done, I'd try to talk with her and give her my support again.
That's what I'd hoped for, but on Sunday afternoon, on a cold and snowy Christmas Eve, I got a message from Sachi.
Merry Christmas, Kirito.
I know I'm a little early saying that, but I wanted to wish you well. I don't know if I'll have the heart to say anything else after tonight.
By now, you might have noticed I left the guild.
I flipped through my interface to the guild list. I was the only one left. Not even the names of the dead were left. They, like Sachi, had no record that they'd ever been in the guild at all.
I'd hoped to stay a member of Black Cats until the very end, but you would find me too easily if I stayed.
You see, the rest of In Memoriam has abandoned me, too.
I think, after you left, they all had concerns. I was uneasy about trying to take on the boss with just the five of us at our level, so I asked the others to stay and level for the rest of the day, but they wouldn't have it. I lost my cool, really, and they all saw the state I was in, the state I'd so desperately tried to hide.
So it's just me now, but I'm going to try anyway. If anyone's taught me how to solo dangerous mobs, it's you. It may seem impossible, but I'm going to try, for the sake of everyone who's died. I have to; I've been a part of more death than I can stand.
You know, before we lost the rest of the guild, I lost a friend I made earlier in the game. She was careful, for the most part. She didn't die because she pulled too many mobs or anything like that. She died while on her way back to town. Even someone careful and smart could be a victim of a random spawn. That scared me to death.
I'm not that person anymore. You helped me grow stronger, to overcome those feelings. I'm grateful for that. I may no longer fear the monsters that surround us, but this game, and the kind of person who could make it, still haunts me. I think it must be part of Kayaba's cruelty, to force people like us to watch our friends and loved ones fall.
That's one thing I fear still: I fear what would happen if I lost another friend. I fear what would happen if I lost you, Kirito. I'm stronger than I used to be, but I don't think I could take that. When In Memoriam was whole, I felt like I could depend on all those people. Since then, I depended on you more than ever.
I know you've tried hard to keep me going. I was surprised to see you were gone when I came home the other day, but then I took some comfort from it, strangely: you have your limits, too. At times, it seemed like you were almost inhuman; you'd shrug off the terrible things that happened to us and find a way to fight again. I now know those qualities weren't otherworldly or special. They're things anyone can aspire to—anyone except me, I expect.
If I don't come back, please don't weep for me, Kirito. It will only mean that I wasn't strong enough, which should be no surprise to either of us. Even if I die, you should aim to survive. This world is so beautiful sometimes—with its sweeping landscapes and detailed cities—that I must think there is more to it than simple cruelty, but I'm not sure. Find out the purpose of this world, and why a frightened, lost little girl like me could end up in a place like this. If I should die, that would be my greatest wish.
And finally, take comfort in yourself. You have always been a bright star to me, shining ceaselessly to guide me through this long, dark night. I was lucky to have met you, and to have known your warmth.
I hope to meet you again, either in this world or another.
I love you very much.
Goodbye.
I collapsed on Agil's couch after that. I banged my fist on the armrest and bit my lip. What would Agil say? Don't react rashly. Take time to think and consider and reflect. Make the best decision for myself. Something like that, right?
Well, once I'd bitten down as far as I could, I pulled up my messaging window and wrote to the only dependable person close to Sachi still:
'Sachi's going to take on the boss all on her own. I don't know what I can do by myself to stop her. Can you and the others help?'
Collmenter: 'Yeah, that's going to be a problem. Rumor has it that someone's pinpointed the boss's spawn point. They're saying it's a fir tree on Floor 35.'
That had to be Sachi's doing. I'd noticed the great fir on Floor 35 before, and it was known that Nicholas would spawn near a fir tree. I'd told Sachi that as reassurance: no matter what, we could guarantee we would be on the scene first, and none of the other raiders or anyone else would know about the boss before we had him down. I asked in a follow-up message,
'Do the other guilds believe it?'
Collmenter: 'They believe it enough to redeploy the bulk of their raids to Floor 35 first. They're already starting to screen any groups of six or more to ask where they're going and if they're trying for the boss.'
We'd never get through checkpoints like that unless we had enough force of our own. As distasteful as it was to consider fighting other players, it wasn't unprecedented when it came to rare spawns or event bosses. Other people would accept it as a risk, but just the five of us wouldn't stand a chance.
I left Collmenter with some parting instructions: to get our friends in the raiding community together, anyone willing to help us.
Collmenter: 'What are you going to do?'
I drummed my fingers on the armrest for a time before typing out my response:
'I'm going to talk to Ezekiel.'
#
In the weeks since we'd parted, Ezekiel had held on to some remnants of In Mem and established a new guild on Floor 46. The main city there was called Floria, famous for persistent, beautiful flowers that stayed open and blooming even in the winter.
I teleported to Floria and found the foliage there was as stunning as ever. A central garden surrounded the teleport plaza, with carefully trimmed patches of yellow, magenta, and blue flowers cut only by brickwork paths. Despite the cool weather, quite a few people were out and about—mostly couples, as you would expect on Christmas Eve.
Outside the teleport plaza, the foliage turned to wild, uncontrolled meadows, but they were no less vivid in color, even at that time of year. Only the occasional hut or shack interrupted the natural, unadulterated beauty of the place. It wasn't until you reached the hills and mountains well outside of town that you saw anything more sophisticated:
For instance, a medieval Japanese castle.
On a hill surrounded by a moat, a walled of castle estate formed an enclave against the wilderness, and yet it was also an integrated part of the countryside. Cherry trees grew beside the walls, shrouding much of the interior from view. Only the very top of the castle proper—an array of traditional, gently curved roofs—was visible from across the moat.
A place such as this would've had great value to any guild, especially for its size and spaciousness—if only it were in a more populated floor, or closer to the teleport gate. As it was, Ezekiel must've gotten it for a relative steal.
A single drawbridge connected the castle grounds with the outside. A tower overlooked the drawbridge, which had been left up, the guard in the tower looked upon me with skepticism and weariness.
"You know, if Ezekiel knew you were here, I'm pretty sure he'd want your ass on a platter."
That was Kali, who peered at me from the drawbridge tower with a relaxed, indifferent expression. She sat with her feet up and didn't move a muscle from her seat.
"Are you guys expecting an invasion?"
"Just don't like people walking in unannounced. What's up, Kirito?"
"I need to talk to Ezekiel."
Kali scoffed, and she tossed a cherry blossom down, one petal at a time.
"Was there something about wanting your ass on a platter that you didn't understand?"
"He can have my ass if he likes. I don't care."
"Oh really?"
She leered at me with an appraising look.
"That's entertaining to imagine."
"Be serious! A life is at stake here!"
"Whose life is that?"
"Sachi's. I don't have the manpower to save her from herself. Please, Kali."
She sighed, shaking her head.
"It's not me you you'll have to convince, but hey, if you want a crack at it…."
She reached for something out of sight—a lever? a control wheel?—and the drawbridge began to come down.
"Head up the path here in front of you to the garden. You should find him there about now."
"Thanks, Kali."
"Don't thank me. I'm just a glorified doorman right now. If you want to persuade Ezekiel, you'll be on your own."
The drawbridge clanked on the stone landing, and I strode across, following Kali's directions. It wasn't exactly clear where the garden should be—the castle sat on three different levels, with retaining walls that barred access straight to the top. It took a little wandering to find the garden, but when I did find it, I heard some strange sounds inside:
"The da-ru-ma doll has fal-len o-ver."
A child, no more than six I guessed, uncovered his eyes and stared at a group of his peers. One of the other children lurched and stumbled.
"Sakura!"
With her name called out, the girl was caught. To the laughter of the others, she hung her head and and joined hands with the first child—a prisoner of war, so to speak. The first child looked across the others before turning around and covering his eyes once again.
"The da-ru-ma doll…"
I made my way around the other children as they crept up on the boy desginated it. Some of them didn't notice me; others looked at my armor and weapon, exclaiming in awe, but I put a finger to my lips to quiet them. They were playing a game, after all. I didn't want them to be distracted on my account.
The garden was full of children. Some played games, like the kids who played Daruma-san near the gate. Others climbed up trees and stared out across the landscape's flora, taking in the preternatural colors and beauty. The garden itself was worthy of their attention, too, with a small plot for bonsai, a sand garden, and a creek that wound through the area and drained via waterfall at the edge of the grounds.
The patron of this castle certainly appreciated it, too:
"So you see, kids, just because this world is artificial doesn't mean it's no less breathtaking, in places, than the real world. There are still beautiful things here—good things—that we can take the time to enjoy, that we can take comfort in."
A group of children sat before Ezekiel, who spoke to them just outside the sand garden. One of the children had a question:
"But why would someone who trapped us in here make something good for us? Why would he make something beautiful?"
Ezekiel pursed his lips and sighed.
"I honestly don't know. Perhaps he recognized that this world couldn't be seen as real without some beauty in it. If nothing else, I think we've seen that Kayaba wanted to make something real here, but only by filling this world with people could he make something truly real. Make no mistake, children: everything you do here, everything you say or do to another person, has real consequences."
Ezekiel snapped a twig off one of the nearby trees, and after a few moments, the twig disintegrated into shards and pixels.
"You see? Don't ever think for an instant that it will all be wiped away when we wake up from this nightmare. It all reflects on you, and I hope, when you get out of here, you'll take inspiration from this experience and choose to make a difference in the world, real or vitural."
A woman in glasses and short brown hair clapped her hands in respect.
"Well said, Ezekiel-san. Now, children, let's see go see the waterfall and leave Ezekiel-san and his visitor alone."
"Visitor?"
Ezkeiel followed the woman's gaze to me.
"Oh hell."
I winced, and all I could do was offer a lame deflection.
"Who says I'm a visitor?"
The woman blinked.
"You don't exactly match the color scheme of this place, or of the guild."
That was true—Ezekiel had taken to wearing a shiny yellow breastplate with a flower emblem. The rest of the garden was just as colorful, so my black attire stood out a bit.
Really, I think people in SAO were just hostile against black, though.
With that awkward detour behind us, Ezekiel bowed slightly to the woman.
"Sorry, Sasha-san, I think this may take a while."
"Take your time."
The woman Sasha tended to the kids as they toured the garden. With them taken care of, Ezekiel took me aside.
"So, what brings you here, Kirito? Come to see how we're doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"
"It's a beautiful castle you have here. I'm very impressed with it."
At that, he relaxed a bit, and he allowed himself the small comfort of touching one of the trees.
"It has its charms, but the only reason we could buy a place like this is because it's remote. You've seen all the kids, right? It's not safe to walk them from the teleport gate to here. We only managed to get them here thanks to the kind donation of a Corridor Crystal. Soothing as this area may be, there's a limit to how much we can do from a place like this."
"Why don't you keep up with the raid group, then?"
He shrugged.
"They don't want our help. So, we do what we can. These kids have been stuck in Starting City ever since the game began. Almost all of them have lived under constant scrutiny from ALF for months now, and this is, for most of them, the first time they've seen anything like this. That's a good feeling. This is what it means to make a difference, you know?"
"You don't have to convince me of that, Ezekiel."
"No? Then what do you want?"
"I need your help."
He scoffed at that, shaking his head.
"Is this the kind of thing you'd do with or without me? Because I think I remember that's how this went down the last time. Why don't we just skip the part where you ask me and I say no, so you can just go ahead and do it anyway—how does that sound?"
"Look, Ezekiel: this is about saving a life, about helping a person in need. That's exactly what In Mem was supposed to be about. That's what you're trying to do here, even though it's hard. Am I right?"
He folded his arms, frowning.
"All right, go on. I'm listening. Who's in trouble?"
"Sachi."
He groaned, starting to walk away.
"Your relationship problems are not matters of life and death, no matter how bad they may feel, Kirito!"
"This isn't a joke!"
I dashed around him, blocking the way.
"She no longer cares if she lives or dies. She's bent on seeking out a miracle, even if it costs her life. She's given up hope of being able to continue on in this world any other way. Tonight, at midnight, she's going to try to solo an event boss, and if people like us aren't there, too, I fear what might happen to her."
"Wow. You guys don't hold back, do you?"
Ezekiel rubbed his temple, sighing again.
"What do you need us to do? Seriously. We don't level as aggressively as full-time raiders do. We've got to be at least three levels behind the bleeding edge. What are we going to do that you or your raiding friends can't? Any of us from Everbloom—myself included—could be at more risk than Sachi is."
"I don't need you to fight. I need you because she might listen to you. Please, believe me when I say this: we went against you before, but we never thought you had bad intentions for the guild. We just thought you were wrong about how to safeguard the future. We always respected your intentions, Ezekiel. I think Sachi would respect them now, too, even when she's stopped listening to me."
"This is a high time for an apology."
I put both hands together and bowed.
"I can't go back in time and offer it any sooner. I'm sorry; this is the best I can do."
"You'll have to do more than that. You're asking me to work with you again, to trust you. Why should I? I asked you to work together before, and you refused me! Why should I trust you now?"
"I listened to Sachi before. I listened to Sachi and the others when I should've listened to you, when I should've listened to myself. I won't let that happen again. Are we going to disagree sometimes? I'm sure we will. I can't promise what I'd do then, just that I would try to respect your viewpoint, as I know you would mine."
With a sour frown, Ezekiel looked past me, then to the sky.
"No, Kirito. You can say the words all you like. You need something now, so you can say all the right things. Maybe you even believe them, but I won't be fooled again. Not by you, not by myself. You should try to do the same."
I pulled on my neck, gazing over the vast fields of flowers outside the castle. They stretched all the way to the horizon in arbitrary patterns of color—without any real meaning, yet they were vibrant and vivid all the same. Streaks of pink, purple, yellow, and orange peppered the landscape, holding their color despite the late season.
I shaded my eyes from the cold winter sun, and I said to Ezekiel, without even facing him,
"Why would you come here, then, to this floor of everlasting color, if you didn't believe flowers could still bloom even in the dead of winter?"
Ezekiel looked out, over the mass of flora beneath us, and he shrugged.
"It's artificial reality, Kirito. Human beings don't work that way."
"But maybe they should. Or maybe they should try."
I stepped in front of him, meeting his gaze.
"You know, Sachi pushed for weeks to go after the res item off Nicholas. She said it would inspire people, but that wasn't what she meant. She wanted it to inspire her. You don't have to help me now, Ezekiel, but you should learn from Sachi's mistake. Dare to believe in what you preach. Dare to believe in what you strive for. If you don't do that, then we're both liars."
I stepped aside, making my way toward the exit path. Ezekiel stood there, at the high tree that overlooked the fields of flowers, and he placed a hand on the tree trunk, leaning for support. As I walked away, I paused at the first bend in the path and called over my shoulder,
"Even if you don't choose to help me, or Sachi, choose to help yourself."
Ezekiel bowed his head, but he didn't answer.
#
He may have refused me, but I hoped things would go well for Ezekiel. Everbloom was doing good things. I'd even dared to dream that, one day, Sachi and I might be welcome back there, but that would've taken a lot of time—much more time than one hurried conversation could cover.
So I did the best with what I had. As often as I'd worried about how few people I played with regularly, outside of Sachi, when it came time to save her, there were quite a few people willing to lay their lives on the line for her sake. Klein agreed in a heartbeat, committing all of Fūrinkazan to the cause without even a promise of loot for them. Or, as Pascal explained it,
"We raid to save lives. Better gear helps over the long term, but it's not often we get the chance to directly save someone in danger. All of us would take that trade-off any day of the week."
At that, even cool and collected Pascal couldn't hide a smile.
"You could say the math is good for that, hm?"
The math was good for the rest of us. The remnants of In Mem plus Fūrinkazan made for almost three full parties. Agil and Lisbeth helped fill in the last couple spots. As merchants more than raiders, they were a little lower in level than the rest of us, but Agil was pretty close to raider level, and Lisbeth…had a hammer.
…yeah, I know it sounds bad, but it wasn't often people poked their heads out for events that could be really dangerous to them, yet Liz didn't even batt an eye at the thought:
"I spent too many dull days in the market with Sachi to just let her throw herself away like this. I don't care if the event's on Floor 100. If this hammer's all I've got to fight mobs off, then I'll swing it all day until they're dead."
And with a cocky smile, she swung that hammer around her head, punctuating her point and obliterating a dinner table in that Londinium inn. Well, as long as I wasn't on the hook for that bill, she could do what she liked if it got her in the mood to fight.
The only other person I considered asking was Asuna, but she was quite busy. As Castor explained it,
"Ah, the GM wants the guild to make sure people don't start attacking each other over this drop. Asuna's doing her best policewoman impression. I doubt she could pull everyone else for something like this. If someone got flagged on Floor 42 over this, Heathcliff would never let her hear the end of it."
So there we were, then. Our number was set: a gang of eighteen. We gathered in Londinium to stay out of the way of other raiding guilds, just in case they got wind of us and tried to block us from Mishe. We gathered for a last meal before marching on the Forest of Wandering, and having pulled together all these good people, I felt compelled to say a few words before we went out. I stood on top of a stool at the bar—and felt a little dumb doing it—and the rest of the room quieted down enough for me to be heard.
"Everyone, thanks for coming. I know, if Sachi were here, she'd appreciate all you're doing for her. I, uh…"
I looked over the room, from Klein's guild all around one square table, raising their glasses; to Collmenter sitting quietly, with his hands folded like a monk; to Liz shooting me a wink as she grinned from ear to ear.
I bowed my head, laughing to myself.
"Sorry, I don't know what to say, really. I'm just so thankful, so relieved, that you guys are here for her today."
Agil tapped his glass, raising it overhead.
"Don't apologize, Kirito, and don't thank us. We're all friends of Sachi's here, and that's what this is about. For this show of common decency, no gratitude is necessary. Don't worry about saying anything else. Let's just go bring Sachi home, yeah?"
To that, the room drank their toasts, and I hopped off the stool, taking up a cup to join them when a voice called to me from the door.
"I dunno. If you want to be a leader, you've got to have a good, inspiring speech up your sleeve every now and then. Trust me, not having one has bitten me in the ass every now and then."
Ezekiel. He ducked through the doorway with Kali and a half-dozen other Everbloom members in tow.
I raised an eyebrow, saying,
"Seems like I just used my inspirational speech earlier this afternoon, judging by the looks of this."
Ezekiel huffed, smiling wryly.
"Maybe you did. Ah well. What was it you said? Dare to believe in what we preach? That sounds like something we'd all like to try here. So, Kirito: where do you need us to be?"
As far as I was concerned, he was in the right place already. If In Mem could be rebuilt this way, then maybe—just maybe—there was hope for us and Sachi yet.
Auld Lang Syne updates every two weeks, so look forward to the next chapter on Saturday, December 13, 2014, at 1 PM EST (10 AM PST), after the official stream of SAO II Episode 23.
Next time: "Mishe." The raid is assembled. The mission: save Sachi from herself, from the Christmas boss, and from any other players who might stand in their way, no matter what.
For notes and commentary on this chapter and others, check out the Auld Lang Syne thread on Sufficient Velocity, linked from my user profile.
