A/N: So... yeah. Over a year of hiatus. I'll make my apology short and sweet: sorry. And now without further ado...

Disclaimer: I do not own Sword Art Online. I also don't own Medal of Honor: European Assault, on which parts of this chapter are based.

Chapter 11: Lines on a Map

Countless snowflakes danced in the sky above Silica's head. She watched as each made its way to the ground, each with its own path, each at its own pace, each with its own design. At first she tried to distinguish between them, but soon they blended in with each other, all tumbling towards the earth to join the layers of snowflakes which had already made the journey.

The soldier sitting next to her shifted against the cobblestone wall slightly, bringing Silica back to her current situation: guard duty. It had been more than a week since her unit had arrived at the village on the front lines. The charming atmosphere had given way to tense expectation. Not a peep had been heard from NazBol territory, and if G-Takusu was to be believed, this was so for almost the entire front line, north to south. Everyone expected a NazBol attack would be imminent, but no one knew where. For all Silica knew, she could be eating lunch right now with some of the hospitable NPC villagers, counting on the NazBols to strike elsewhere. But of course, that wasn't an option.

"Crockett." A soldier further down the low wall called to the player next to her. "It's your turn."

Crockett sighed, cracking his neck. He gave Silica a wink. "Call me lucky number 7!" With a hop over the wall, he became the seventh person that day to dart about a hundred yards to the east to see if he could see any NazBols... or to find out if any NazBols could see him. Taking cover behind a tree, Crockett stood, slowly peering around the trunk. After a few moments of scanning, her peered around the other side. "Can't see anything," he called back. "Might be the snow, though." Another moment. "Can't hear anything eith-"

A distant, solitary boom echoed across the landscape. Silica flinched. After reassuring herself that she hadn't imagined it, she saw that Crockett's expression of mild boredom had been replaced with one of rising fear.

"Get back here!" One of the others called. Crockett hesitantly stepped towards the village but froze when an ominous whistling sound faded into hearing.

Silica's stomach lurched. She knew what that sound meant. So did Crockett, and he began sprinting back. As the whistling sound became louder and lower in tone, he covered his helmet with his arms and launched himself towards the snow. Silica saw his eyes widen and his mouth open as he hung in mid-air.

"Sh-"

The whistling stopped, and he was gone. Silica felt the explosion in her mind as well as with her senses.

Shells began landing all around the Alliance troops. The other players either threw themselves to the ground or ran back towards the village. Silica, however, found herself rooted to the spot. Part of her brain screamed at her to do something, but another part curled up in a ball, whispering, this can't be happening, I'm not ready to go back to fighting again, they should have given me a warning, it's not fair…

She had no idea how long she sat there, staring at the smoking crater where Crockett had been. She only snapped out of her daze when she noticed that the shelling had decreased. As soon as she realized this, NazBols came into view in the distance, running towards her. Hastily jumping to her feet, Silica looked around to find that most of her fellow troops had retreated. A few had shared the fate of Crockett. One of the others, still running, shouted over his shoulder to Silica. "What are doing?! Come on!"

Galvanized into action, Silica lowered her head and charged towards the town. For once in her life, she felt thankful for being tiny; her light weight meant that she had an easier time getting across the snow than most others. She reached her comrades at the outskirts of the village. A few of them kept going, but most seemed to have recovered from the surprise attack and were taking up defensive positions. Spotting a convenient little boulder just the right size to hide her small frame, Silica dove behind it, checking to make sure she hadn't dropped her weapons in her shock. She hadn't. But as she peeked out from behind the small boulder, she realized that the NazBols were still a good distance away – too far for either her Skorpion or her TT-33 to be of much use.

While the others fired at the oncoming enemy, Silica ground her teeth. She felt useless. Taking another peak, she observed the NazBols slowly but surely getting closer. And were those tanks she saw behind the first row of NazBols? "Oh, great," Silica muttered out loud without realizing it.

"Silica!"

Jerking her head around, she spotted an Alliance soldier waving at her from behind a windmill. "There's better cover here!" he shouted. "Go on, we'll cover you!"

Taking a deep breath, Silica broke her cover and ran to the soldier as some others stepped out on the other side of the windmill to fire. When she made it, the soldier whistled in an overwhelmed manner. "Were those tanks I saw out there?"

"Yep," replied another soldier in the midst of reloading. "King Tigers. Those won't be easy to take out, even by tank standards."

"Crap." The first soldier turned towards another group of players taking cover behind a building. "Anyone have an RPG?" he shouted.

The other group shook their heads, but one of the troops next to Silica spoke up. "Jennings went to go get one, Hall."

Hall nodded, leaning out to fire before ducking back in to avoid a hail of bullets. "Right. Olsen –" (he indicated the soldier who had answered) "– you and Silica stay here with me. The rest of you, start taking up defensive positions further back."

Silica watched Hall and Olsen fire at the advancing NazBols with their rifles. After a few minutes, she peeked out to see if the NazBols were close enough for her guns to be effective. She was disappointed when she saw that they were still several hundred yards away. I suppose I should be grateful for that, she thought. Nevertheless, she decided to try the TT-33. Silica held her arms out, firmly grasping the pistol, and aimed for the nearest NazBol. She held her breath for a moment before pulling the trigger.

To her amazement, her target staggered, hit in the chest. She was so surprised at her good aim that she almost forgot to finish the job, which was easier now that the target was moving slower. Before her second bullet found the NazBol, though, the latter somehow managed to spot the little Alliance trooper who had shot him. He got a few rounds off before he went down. One of these hit her in the head.

Silica had instinctively ducked back behind cover before the damage overwhelmed her senses. For a few seconds, she just sat with her back to the windmill, trying to figure out if she was still alive. It felt a bit like when you stand up too quickly after sitting for a long time and the blood rushes to your head, except instead of seeing black spots Silica saw red. And of course this was much scarier.

"You alright there?" The voice seemed to just barely permeate Silica's whirling awareness. As the red began to fade and she assured herself that she was not in fact dead, Silica turned to see Hall and Olsen looking very worried. Blushing slightly, Silica huffed as if this happened to her regularly. "That NazBol got me in the head. I'm good now."

Hall and Olsen took her word for it, which Silica was grateful for. She was in the midst of marshaling her courage to try her luck with the pistol again when Olsen pointed. "Here comes Jennings!"

Jennings came running up carrying an M9 Bazooka. "How close are they?" he puffed as he caught his breath.

Hall glanced around the windmill. "Too close. The tanks are targeting the buildings," he added as a shed a few hundred feet from them shattered in a flash of light.

Jennings steadied the Bazooka on his shoulder. "Okay. Cover me." As Hall, Olsen, and Silica provided covering fire, Jennings stepped out and aimed for the nearest tank. With a deafening roar, the rocket took off, hitting the King Tiger's front. The tank began to smoke lightly, but otherwise it seemed intact.

"Damn, that's heavy armor," cursed Hall.

"Please tell me you have another rocket," Olsen muttered as he shot down a particularly close NazBol.

But Jennings was already reloading the Bazooka. "I brought two, don't worry." Just as he finished saying this, an explosion rocked the windmill. The tank had detected them. Gritting his teeth, Jennings stepped out again, this time taking fire from the NazBol foot soldiers as he aimed. Fortunately, the extra effort was worth it, as the rocket hit the tank's turret. The King Tiger erupted in a fiery ball of death.

Before Silica could congratulate Jennings, Hall began moving. "Fall back into the village! There's too many of them!" he called to any players within hearing range.

As Silica entered the village proper, she noted with relief that no NPC civilians were in sight. Entering a small barn, Hall glanced about. "See if you can find a good position to pick off the foot soldiers from," he advised. As the others headed to various nooks in the barn's walls, Silica climbed a rickety ladder leading to a loft. I'm pretty sure I saw a second-floor window from outside, she thought. Confirming this, Silica climbed onto the loft floor. She was about to crawl to the window, wondering if her short-range weapons would be an issue again, when she almost toppled off the loft in horror.

The lifeless body of an Alliance soldier lay on the loft floor near the window. He lay on his stomach, face down, blood pouring from a wound on his head. His hands still gripped a Gewehr 98 sniper rifle.

The young girl sat, staring, knowing that the blood wasn't real, but that the death was. Eventually, she tore her gaze away, cringing involuntarily. Silica knew she had to get her head back in the battle. This was nothing she hadn't seen before. Unfortunately, there was only one window, and a tiny one at that – meaning that if she wanted to be helpful, she'd have to move the body. Gulping, Silica forced herself to move forward and grasp the deceased player's back. Gently, she pulled him to the side. She felt grateful that she couldn't see his face – and then promptly felt awful for thinking that.

Ignoring the blood, Silica got into position. From her vantage point, she could see NazBol troopers closing in fast. Fortunately, there was no tank in sight. One of the NazBols began firing at something to her left; hearing yells, she surmised that one of her comrades had been spotted. She placed her Skorpion in what she thought would be a good position to fire from, but the window's small size meant that the gun blocked her vision of the target. Attempts to find a less awkward position proved fruitless. As the NazBol continued the fire, Silica panicked and fired. She couldn't tell if she had hit the target without stopping and moving, so she sprayed the bullets around a bit. When she did stop, she could see that the NazBol was down. But she knew that she couldn't keep doing this. At this rate, she'd be out of ammo by the time the enemy line reached the barn.

"Think, Silica, think!" she muttered to herself. The tremor in her voice surprised her; she had been so preoccupied that she had almost forgotten how terrified she was. Silica shifted slightly, her leg bumping into something. She almost turned around before remembering the body. Oh, right… the other player…

… the other player!

Not sure if her idea would work, Silica reached behind her and fumbled around a bit until she found the hard wood of the dead player's G98 sniper rifle. Even though this weapon was much bigger than the Skorpion and the TT-33, it distributed its space more horizontally and less vertically, allowing Silica to aim out the window and see where she was aiming at the same time. But her plan hit a pothole almost immediately. Spotting another NazBol, she pulled the trigger. The heavy recoil caused her to drop the gun in shock. To her dismay, she had missed! Even worse, when she gripped the gun again and pulled the trigger a second time, it didn't fire! Is the gun jammed? Is that even a feature in this game?! she thought furiously. Giving the G98 a quick scan, she realized her mistake: Oh, duh! It's a bolt-action rifle. To fire the next shot, I need to… um… a-action… the… bolt?

The NazBol she had been aiming at spotted her and swung his rifle towards her. Silica squealed in distress as she tried to remember what the older players had taught her back at HQ. With bullets shattering the few remaining glass panes in the window, she identified the bolt of the gun and tried to pull it back as she had seen others do in training. The bolt wouldn't budge at first, but when she pulled a bit to the left, it came up. A NazBol round struck her hand. Knowing she likely had less than a second before her head was struck, she pulled the bolt back – the gun gave a soft click – and then pushed it forward and to the right, back into place. Meanwhile she spotted the NazBol through the scope. In one fluid motion, she took a breath, moved her right hand from the bolt to the trigger, and fired. The shot hit the NazBol in the collarbone. It might have been Silica's terrified imagination, but she thought she saw a good portion of the enemy's upper chest sheer off into the snow.

The next few moments were a blur. Silica fired three more rounds, managing to hit two NazBols, and was about to try to hit a third when she realized the absence of the little "click" she had heard before. The gun was empty! It only carried five rounds at a time!

"How do I reload this thing?!" Silica whimpered aloud without realizing it.

She was spared further confusion when a voice called from below. "Silica! You still up there? Come on, we have to retreat!"

The young girl didn't know whether to be relieved or dismayed at the news. Dropping the rifle and retrieving her Skorpion, she backed up a bit and felt with her leg until she found the ladder. As she climbed down, she was forced to look at the downed Alliance soldier whose gun she had used. Silica froze halfway down the ladder. It seemed wrong just to leave him here – but there was nothing she could do. Hot tears ran down the girl's face as she stared hard at the back of the man's head. The brave part of her wanted to roll him over a bit so that she could see his face and remember him. The queezy part of her told her not to.

The queezy part won.

But before she jumped down to the barn floor, she gulped and forced her voice box to operate. "A-a-arigato." Thank you.

A moment later Silica was dashing across the street for the next row of houses. Other troops had taken up defensive positions around the corners. She joined one such group and readied her Skorpion. One by one, each of them would lean out of cover in coordination with other groups and fire a couple of rounds at the advancing enemy. This went on for about five minutes – it was difficult for Silica to tell – before someone called, "Fall back! We're about to be overrun!"

Indeed, as soon as Silica stopped firing at a NazBol in the distance, a different NazBol stepped out from behind the other side of the house and returned fire. Taking multiple hits to the chest, Silica gulped as her vision turned red with virtual blood. One of the other players – Jackson – grabbed her and made sure she followed as the Alliance soldiers fell back yet again.

"Sure could use some air support right now!" yelled a soldier in frustration.

Another one shook her head. "We already radioed. The nearest Air Force base is also under attack."

"So we're alone?!" a third soldier cried indignantly.

The second soldier again shook her head. "Reinforcements are coming up from the rear. Don't know when they'll get here, though."

"Why don't we take cover in the houses?" asked another as he peered around the corner.

"No."

Silica said it without even thinking. Everyone else turned to stare at her. Suddenly she felt awfully self-conscious, but she continued nonetheless. "We'll be making targets out of the civilians!"

The soldier who had suggested the idea scowled. "Who cares?! They're NPCs. We're people! Besides, the NazBols are already blowing up houses!"

Another soldier nodded. "Do you really think they'll let the civilians live in peace once they've captured the town?"

"Enough!" Vasquez shouted, startling Silica. She hadn't realized the officer was standing next to her. "We don't have time to argue! Just focus on –"

But before he could finish his sentence, everything exploded.

Something was very wrong. That much was obvious to Silica. But frustratingly, she had no idea what had happened. Did she get hit in the head? Blown up by a grenade? Crushed by a tank? Some combination of the above? None of her senses gave her any hints. So she had to wait, heartbeat by agonizing heartbeat, until her vision gradually faded back in. The first thing she noticed was the snow falling towards her.

I'm lying on the ground. Silica's thoughts echoed eerily in her head. Okay… let's try to sit up. She felt her muscles clench in the effort, but they weren't working properly, and the young soldier lay helplessly on the ground, still hearing nothing and seeing only snow and a dark gray sky. She inhaled and exhaled rapidly, afraid her lungs might not be working either. By this point, she had to have been lying there for at least 30 seconds, probably more.

I'm going to die. The thought came calmly enough. She had no realistic chance of surviving. A vision of herself from a few days ago hovered before her eyes. There she was, walking through the cheerful little town, waving to NPCs as they greeted her from their homes. Many of those NPCs were likely now dead and the homes destroyed. Men, women, children, pets. And then there were the Alliance soldiers – players, like her, who were trapped in this game only two years after SAO had ended.

It's only a matter of time.

She closed her eyes.

"Silica."

The voice cut through the silence in such a startling manner that Silica would have jumped if she had the muscle coordination for it. Someone was talking to her. Someone familiar. Perhaps Olsen or one of the others was trying to save her. She wanted to tell them to leave her and save themselves.

"Silica."

Her heart skipped a beat. No, it can't be… And yet there was no mistaking that voice.

K-k… Kirito?

"Get up." She could see him now, which was odd considering her eyes were closed. Messy black hair, typical black clothing, eyes with a depth that defied his fragile figure. He was smiling warmly, but his tone was serious. "Get up, Silica."

Why? she thought. There's no point anymore.

"That's not true." His smile never faltered. "Get up!"

But… but…

"Silica! Get! Up!"

The girl grit her teeth. Snowy gray sky be damned. Muscles be damned. NazBols be damned. A surge of raw emotion filled her being, like adrenaline in her veins, giving her a boost of strength she literally did not posses a second ago. The snowy sky tilted as she forced her upper body up, her legs clenching and her arms flying forward. After what seemed like three whole seconds of motion – in reality it was less than one – her clenched fists connected with something solid, causing her eyes to flutter open.

There, in front of her, sat a NazBol with a rifle, bayonet still poised as if to stab, staring agape at the young girl who had just pushed him off his feet.

For a moment, neither spoke. But then Silica had had enough. "F*** you, buddy!" she hollered as she reached for her TT-33.

The NazBol started to protest, but he didn't get far.

And with that, Silica lept up and charged the first NazBol in view. He went down with a bullet in his brain. The next received three bullets to the gut. The third took two to the chest. Silica, with no idea where she was or where she was going, quickly lost count of the number of kills she was racking up, first with her pistol and then with her Skorpion. All she saw were enemies. Only when she had emptied both weapons did she pause and take note of her surroundings. She was still in the village. She could hear the sounds of gunfire from all directions, but no one else was in her immediate sight. Silica turned around wildly, forgetting to check if she had any ammo left in her rush to identify which direction to go in. Just then a King Tiger rolled into view from behind a house to her right. Without thinking, Silica charged the tank, waving her empty Skorpion like Liz with her mace when she was in a bad mood. The tank ignored her as she neared it, instead firing some rounds from its machine gun at something ahead. Leaping onto the tank's side, Silica clawed her way up to the turret and started banging on the lid, letting loose a very un-Silica-like howl. The lid opened suddenly, pushing her back and causing her to drop her Skorpion into the snow. A NazBol popped out, giving her an incredulous look. Armed only with an empty TT-33, Silica realized too late that she had been rash.

How do I knife, how do I knife-

The NazBol pulled a pistol from his belt.

No time! She slammed the butt of her own pistol against the skull of the NazBol. He fell back into the tank with a grunt. But Silica had no time to reflect on her lucky blow – a NazBol came around a corner behind her and began firing. Fortunately, before Silica could take too much damage, the NazBol was knocked off his feet by a barrage of bullets fired from in front of the tank. Turning, Silica saw Hall, Olsen, and Jennings run out from behind a house and clamber up with her while the tank's gunner was distracted pinning down some other players.

"Silica, are you crazy?!" yelled Hall. Grabbing her free hand, she yanked her off the turret just as another NazBol began to emerge. Jennings shot him at point-blank range, then stuck his rifle down into the tank and emptied his magazine into the rest of the tank crew. After checking to make sure he had done his job, he climbed over the turret and began firing at NazBols a few houses down. Meanwhile, Olsen dropped into the tank. He must have been good with vehicles in this game, Silica thought, because after only a few seconds, the turret turned 180° to face the enemy.

Jennings scrambled off the moving turret, screaming "Tank to our 6!" Indeed, another King Tiger rolled into view down the road. As Olsen adjusted the newly captured tank's gun, the other tank turned its turret towards its former brethren. The enemy tank was adjusting its own gun when Olsen's voice roared from the open turret.

"Fire in the hole!"

Just as the other tank seemed ready to fire, Olsen beat the enemy to it. The blast knocked Silica off the tank and deafened her, but she managed to catch a mid-air glimpse of the enemy King Tiger explode into a fireball of burning metal. Without wasting anytime, Hall pulled Silica up and made waving motions to any and all Alliance soldiers in view. Anyone could recognize the gesture, and Silica's hearing faded back in to confirm: "... Fall back! Fall back!"

Jennings and Silica obeyed, joining several others in a rush to the western edge of the village. Hall climbed back onto the tank, and he and Olsen followed the players with the tank. As they approached the last house, a sole Alliance soldier - Mongoose, she tiredly recognized - waved them on. "We're going to the next village! Everyone else is ahead!"

Silica's training took over. She picked up an AK-47 – whether NazBol or Alliance in origin, she didn't know – and began sprinting through the open field towards the cover of trees. Every now and then she would turn and provided covering fire for her comrades before turning once again and allowing others to cover her. Olsen's King Tiger brought up the rear, firing at clusters of NazBols and the occasional tank. But soon the enemy firepower began to overwhelm the captured tank. At that point, though, an all-too familiar whistling sound started up: incoming artillery. Shells began to rain down on the village again. But this time the NazBols were the ones on the receiving end.

Soon Silica had reached the trees. As Hall and Olsen began a quick discussion on whether or not they could bring the tank with them, she took a final look at the burning village which so recently had been pleasantly peaceful. The faces of dozens of players and hundreds of NPC villagers flashed before her eyes.

"Get up," she heard Kirito's voice repeat.

Silica's tearstained eyes flashed before she turned her back on the village and retreated into the woods, rifle in hand.

A/N: And so, with from spiritual guidance from Kirito, Silica is able to wake up from her hiatus-induced daze and shoot the lazy, procrastinating author in the gut, giving him his just deserts. As she marches triumphantly away, leaving college finals to finish the villain off, she… wait… that's not right…