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 12: Damage Control

The atmosphere at the Alliance HQ changed overnight. Yesterday, as Kirito and the others lay in their Spec Ops barracks sleeping off the last mission, the NazBols made their move hundreds of miles to the east. For a few minutes, news spread like dandelion seeds through the air. As the radio room suddenly became a flurry of activity, soldiers stationed nearby stopped talking mid-sentence. As these soldiers began jogging down the hall and shouting to their comrades, more soldiers became aware that something was up. Within a few minutes, the PA system announced massive NazBol counter-offenses at several points along the front. An offensive had been expected, of course, but it had been hoped that the NazBols would take long enough to recover from their recent losses to give the Alliance the time to consolidate their gains and keep going. At first, some players simply stopped and gaped; others scurried about, looking for something helpful to do. Soon the orders came rushing in, and the halls of the HQ became a beehive. Since the action was still far from home, no alarms sounded, so the tired Spec Ops team was not woken from their much-deserved slumber for several hours. Kirito was the exception.

The vibrations from a helicopter overhead shook the boy awake. Sighing, he shifted slightly in bed, not even bothering to open his eyes. The helicopter flew away, and he had almost fallen back to sleep when another one followed. Kirito frowned before peeling open his eyes and blinking to clear his groggy vision. After a moment, he sat up, glancing through the partially-closed shades of his window. The second helicopter soon flew out of view. He sat for a moment, waiting. Then several players rushed by on the pathway outside the barracks. Squinting, Kirito could make out the shapes of other soldiers moving in various directions over the grounds and in and out of buildings. At this point most of the drowsiness left him.

Getting up, Kirito walked up to his door and poked his head out into the hallway. No activity. He frowned again before closing the door and opened the shades fully. Players were running, jogging, power walking. The dull roar of a jet engine echoed over the grounds from the nearby airfield. The few facial expressions he could see were serious. The early afternoon sun shone on obliviously.

Kirito grunted. The NazBols had probably attacked the front lines. He returned to the bed and sat on it, debating with himself.

I should probably get ready, he thought. Then again, they haven't sent someone to wake us up yet, and they might not feel the need for us anyway. Still, though, I should be prepared. No harm in getting up a few hours early…

An image of Asuna sleeping like a baby on the grassy hills of the 59th Floor of Aincrad crept into his mind. A chibi Asuna appeared, pointing her sword at the image as if explaining a diagram in a presentation. You've got to get your sleep, Kirito!

"But I have to do my best to beat the game, Mini-Asuna," mumbled Kirito.

That's exactly my point, baka! You can't do your best if you don't get enough sleep!

"… nnnnnn…" Kirito droned. "… okay." With that, he flopped back onto his pillow. But sleep would not come to him. He kept imagining what kind of situation the front lines might be facing.

Several hours later, a knock on his door brought Kirito out of his indecisive daze.

"Kii-bou. Naptime's over."

The next morning, Kirito fiddled with his Garand as the Huey flew him over miles and miles of snow. In fact, he nearly got his thumb stuck in it. He checked to see if the others had noticed. Snow was staring a hole in the pilot's seatback and Liz was busy watching the landscape pass, but Argo was looking at him. She raised an eyebrow. Kirito resisted the impulse to give her the finger.

The chopper turned a bit, causing him to grab at the open doors in fear of falling out. Liz turned her head and met Kirito's eyes. She stared at the blushing boy for a moment before giving a simple smile. At that moment it struck Kirito how beautiful the girls on his team were. Liz, smiling at him, her dark pink eyes sparkling ever so slightly as she dangled her legs out the chopper. Snow, her expression empty, her eyes clouded, burying her chin in her special winter Spec Ops uniform, hugging her legs to her chest. Argo, her expression as mischievous as it could be just before a serious battle, sitting against the side of the chopper with her legs crossed in front of her. All of them with the hair under their helmets rustling softly with the wind.

If Asuna had been there, he had a feeling she would be peeved at him for staring at other girls. But then, if Asuna were there, he would be staring at her as she gazed ahead with stormy hazel eyes, windswept strands of hair caressing Kirito as he held her close –

"This is it," called one of the pilots as his copilot lowered the helicopter into a relatively flat patch of snow.

Argo uncrossed her legs. Snow began to get up. Liz turned back around. And Kirito took a look at the landscape. Behind them, to the west, lay a partially destroyed village. To either side, north and south, lay blank stretches. Ahead, to the east, Alliance soldiers fought from a trench dug into a small hill. The hill rolled down into a field, which led up to a stream. A tiny bridge crossed the stream into NazBol territory: a hamlet at the base of a hill. At the top of the hill sat a large building, the westward side of which was mostly missing; every few seconds a flash could be seen from artillery guns housed in the building. As the Huey flew lower, the Alliance-held hill obscured his view of the battlefield.

The Huey touched down, and the Spec Ops team unloaded. Besides Kirito, Argo, Liz, and Snow, there were three others named Troffimov, Padorin and Donskoi. The seven troopers were met by an Army soldier with an AK-47.

"I'll take you to General Eugene. He'll decide what to do with you." With these words of greeting, the soldier turned and started jogging towards the hill, the others following. As they crested the hill, Kirito took a deep breath. He had never seen a larger firefight. Army soldiers scurried through the trenches bent double, even in spots where the trench was deep enough for them to stand at full height. Every once and a while they would poke their heads up and fire off a round or two at the enemy half a mile away, taking very little time to aim. And for good reason! Bullets were constantly whizzing by, nipping at the snow. Kirito could hear artillery shells landing in all directions. As he watched, a soldier who had just ventured from the cover the trench walls fell backward, pieced somewhere in his upper body. His mouth was open in a scream, but Kirito couldn't hear it over the noise. For a moment, Kirito presumed him dead, but after a moment, he closed his mouth and turned so that he had his back against the wall. He was shivering visibly. He didn't seem to notice when the soldier next to him got knocked to the ground and didn't get up.

Words and phrases about spoken by his teachers during lectures on World War I in Europe that until now Kirito had remembered only fuzzily shot by his mind like the bullets flying over his head. History really was coming alive in this game.

"General!" their guide called, pulling Kirito from his thoughts. A man wrapped with ammo belts turned. The resemblance with his brother Mordred was immediately obvious: tall, well-built, red-haired, hard face.

"Yes, Sergei? Ah!" Eugene replied in a booming voice that carried over the sounds of battle. "Our special reinforcements." He lumbered towards the Spec Ops team, holding his MG42 with one arm as if it were as light as a baseball bat. Kirito had met him in Alfheim Online, and Liz had met him once or twice since then, but if the former commander of the Salamander army recognized either of them, he didn't show it.

Argo saluted, prompting Kirito to do the same. "Reporting for duty, General," she shouted, trying to match Eugene's volume with her nasally voice in a way that Kirito might have found funny in a different situation. "Where do you want us?"

Eugene jerked a thumb. "In the trench, with everyone else. Listen, I've got players who've been here for hours, in some cases since yesterday. More than a few of 'em are hugging themselves, too scared to fight anymore." A bullet tore a strip from a nearby wooden beam supporting a little rest area, making a noise straight out of Hollywood. Eugene ducked his head to avoid splinters before continuing unfazed. "We could use your help. Once we get some artillery of our own up here, I'll give you more jobs to do." Two more bullets struck the beam. Eugene grunted, hefted his MG42, and fired a short burst towards the NazBols. Kirito had no idea if the general had hit his target, but the incoming bullets did stop.

Argo led the team forward, indicating they should spread out along the trench. Kirito picked a bare spot and prepared to pop up. When he did so, he scanned the enemy lines at lightning speed, looking for a target. He spotted one in the form of a pillbox just outside the hamlet; its machine gun was spraying rounds somewhere to his left, giving off steady muzzle flashes. Kirito fired his rifle and dropped down again, easing his head up a moment later to see if he had hit home. He hadn't. He repeated the process three times before the machine gun abruptly stopped. To his dismay, though, it was only a moment before the gun started back up again. Kirito fired twice more, this time silencing the pillbox for close to half a minute. He had begun firing at another pillbox when the first one roared back to life, sending a few close calls his way.

*Ping* went the Garand as it ejected the empty bullet clip. Kirito swore. There had to be at least five pillboxes on the other side of the stream, plus all the individual NazBols in their trench. At this rate, he would be ought of ammo before he knew it. He tried to make out how the others were doing. He could see Padorin firing his Mosin-Nagant 1891 at a remarkably fast pace considering it was a bolt-action rifle, and he caught a glimpse of Snow's blond hair barely sticking out of her helmet as she fired bursts from her StG-44.

As Kirito reloaded, he glanced at a nearby player huddled up at the bottom of the trench. The player was shielding their head with their arms, so he had no idea if they were a boy or a girl or even how old they were. Deciding he could provide moral as well as material support, Kirito shuffled over to the player and gently shook them by the shoulder.

"Hey, you alright?"

The player's arms separated a bit, and he could see the face of what appeared to be a middle-aged man. He said nothing, only chattering his teeth and staring at Kirito with terrified eyes. For a second, Kirito thought he was staring into the face of Nishida, the kind man he and Asuna had met and shared a meal with on Aincrad's 22nd floor. The second passed; it wasn't him. But Kirito felt his heart harden at the sight anyway. He tried not to let his face harden too.

"Get up!" he shouted. "Come on, you can do it!"

The man shook his head furiously.

"Come on!" Kirito repeated. "You have to get up!"

But the man was having none of it. An artillery shell landed somewhere near them, kicking up tufts of snow and raining it down on the trench. Kirito grit his teeth, ignoring the snow as it slid down his cheek. He tried to pull his fellow soldier up, but the man resisted, giving a whimper that Kirito somehow managed to hear over the chaos.

"… Can't… I can't…"

"You can! You just won't!" Kirito was deeply disturbed at having to shout at a man three times his age, someone who should have been at work in his boring Tokyo office instead of hiding in this god-forsaken trench. Someone who should have been a reporter giving the world the latest updates on the plight of those trapped in this second death game. Someone who should have been a father, grateful that he was waiting to pick up his children from school rather than a hospital.

Kirito forced himself to swallow. He let go of the man, but he continued to address him. "Yes, this is war. This is death. I'm scared." He wasn't lying by a long shot. "We're all scared. But that's just it – we're all scared." He got to his knees and offered the man a hand. "Right now, there are dozens – hundreds – maybe even thousands – of people just like you, in these trenches, up and down our line. They need more than just their own courage. They need each other's courage. Sir, please." Kirito was pleading now. If this didn't work, he would ignore the man and go back to fighting. "Please… for the rest of us. If you can't fight, at least get up."

Seconds passed. The man's teeth never stopped chattering, his eyes never stopped staring at the boy before him. But then… slowly, surely, he reached out a hand and grasped Kirito's. As he lifted the man up, Kirito felt something inside himself lift as well. The man managed to get his chattering under control, and he opened his mouth to say something to Kirito, thought for a moment, then closed it. Giving only a nod, the middle-aged man – still clearly frightened – put his back to the trench wall and began checking his rifle.

Kirito was about to have another go at one of the far-away pillboxes when he heard Liz's voice. "Kirito! You alright?" she asked as she made her way through the trench towards him.

Kirito grinned. "Fine. You?"

"Relatively speaking." She took up a position next to him, fingering her Desert Eagle pistol nervously. "My shotgun's no good at this range, of course, so I've been trying to pick 'em off with the Deagle. Haven't had much luck."

"I might be having better luck," Kirito replied, "if only I had time to aim carefully!"

Liz frowned at trench wall. "There should be, like, grooves or something along the wall. Places to fire from where we aren't exposed."

That set Kirito's mind in motion. "Well, let's take a look. Maybe there's a convenient spot somewhere."

Together they moved down the trench, reaching its end a minute later. There, the floor of the trench sloped upward until it met the snow outside the trench. Kirito turned around to go back the way they came, but Liz stayed put, looking intently at the end of the trench. After a moment Kirito realized he was not being followed. "Liz?"

"Kirito." She pointed. "There, right there. Do you think you could lie prone there and fire? The wall looks high enough to offer some protection, and the floor is high enough that you won't have to keep bobbing in and out of view."

Kirito crouched low and crawled along the snow until he could see over the trench wall. "Well, I can see fine –" He took aim and fired at one of the pillboxes. "Ha! Liz this may just wor- gah!"

He flinched as a bullet hit his back. Another of the pillbox gunners had spotted him. He took a bullet in the left hand, another in the right boot, saw a storm of bullets headed his way…

"Kirito!" Liz screamed as she dived toward her friend. Clutching him by a boot, she dragged him back down the trench.

Kirito whistled as his red vision gradually cleared. "Thanks. I guess that won't work. Even with our snow uniforms, we still stand out against the snow too much… Liz?"

She was starting down the trench. Without turning around, she held up her palm: Stay there.

Bemused, Kirito stuck a hand under his helmet to scratch his head. When two minutes had passed and Liz still hadn't returned, he got fed up with doing nothing and decided to try his luck at popping in and out of cover again. Another ammo clip later, he had succeeded in downing a grand total of one machine gunner. This is pointless, he began to think. What does Eugene plan for us to do? Sit here until the NazBols run out of soldiers to man the pillboxes? That's going to be a while, and it'll take more ammo than we have with us…

Then Liz returned, and Kirito had to rub a gloved hand across his eyes to make sure snow wasn't obscuring his vision. Sure enough, she was carrying wood. Lots of wood. So much so that she couldn't see in front of her and had to keep calling, "Coming through! Make way! Hot stuff!"

The pink-haired girl gingerly deposited her load in front of Kirito. Before he could point out that she had confused "firepower" with "firewood", she snatched a smoke grenade from her belt. "Now," she said, grinning like a student who had outsmarted her teacher, "this is how it's going to work. Under the cover of the smoke, you get up onto the snow behind us." She indicated her wood. "I'll throw this s*** on top of you. You'll look like a pile of debris from an artillery strike. And since your rifle is silenced, they won't be able to see a muzzle flash! Tada!"

Kirito stared at his friend. "Liz… you're a genius!"

The pink-haired girl blushed. "Hehe, I-I get that a lot. Now throwing a smoke grenade might draw attention, so all we need is a good distraction…"

Just then, a shell struck some 25 feet downhill in front of them. "Ah! Perfect." Liz pulled the pin on her grenade and tossed it. From a distance, it might've looked like the artillery had struck something flammable and set it off, producing billowing smoke. At least, that's what Kirito hoped as he climbed out of the trench and settled himself on the snow behind it. Liz began tossing scrap wood onto him, assuring him that if the makeshift camo didn't work, she would pull him back into the trench immediately. Though he couldn't feel pain, Kirito couldn't help flinching each time a piece of wood landed near his face.

A minute later, the smoke cleared, and Kirito put Liz's idea to the test. He could only move so much without causing the pile of wood to collapse, which meant that he could only target a small portion of the enemy lines. But within that portion, the NazBols soon found themselves in need of reinforcements. Over the next few minutes, Kirito took out a dozen machine gunners and even a few NazBols whose helmets could be seen bobbing up and down their trench. Not a single NazBol bullet hit him.

"I'm running low on ammo," he eventually called down to Liz. "I should save some for later!"

Liz frowned. She supposed she could go searching for some ammo. In Call of Honor, the real-life complications of having various bullet calibers were greatly simplified, so it wouldn't be that hard to find ammo compatible with Kirito's Garand. But that would mean leaving Kirito vulnerable. If he suddenly started taking damage, he might not pull himself out from under the wood pile and dive into the trench in time. Biting her lip, she glanced around to see if anyone else could make the trip. She spotted two soldiers to their left, but one was recovering from a near-deadly shot to the shoulder, and the other was peeking over the wall, trying to sight her next target without bringing her head fully out of cover. Luckily, at that moment a friendly face was coming through the trenches towards them. "Argo!" Liz called. "Do you think you could get some more ammo for Kirito?"

"Way ahead of you, Liz-chan." She tossed several ammo clips to Liz, who caught them and threw them up to Kirito, who called out his thanks.

Argo acknowledged the thanks. "No problem, pile of woo-" She did a double take, then frowned. "Kii-bou, since when did you become a pile of wood?"

"Since Liz came up with this camouflage plan," he replied as he resumed fire. "Really, it was quite brilliant."

Liz blushed again. Argo raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, good for her," she commented, expression strictly neutral.

Liz might have asked Argo why she sounded a bit disappointed, but the arrival of Sergei, the Army soldier who had received them at the landing zone, forestalled that. "Spec Ops!" he gasped, panting. "General Eugene wants to see you. Follow me." He turned around and hurried back. Exchanging glances with Kirito, Liz pulled him into the trench and helped him to his feet.

Kirito smiled. "Thanks."

Liz smiled too. "No problem."

"Come on." Argo's voice almost had an edge to it. "Let's go!"

The three of them arrived at the bottom of the hill to find Snow and the other three waiting. Troffimov raised an eyebrow at Kirito, who still had bits and pieces of timber sticking to him. "You look like you got covered in s***."

"He was covered in Liz's s***, to be precise," answered Argo, smirking (though perhaps blushing slightly as well) as Liz squawked and Kirito coughed violently.

Eugene marched up. "Our artillery has arrived, as you can see." He indicated several howitzers being detached from jeeps and lined up facing the battlefield. "As soon as we can, we're going to barrage the enemy position with everything we've got. Using the artillery as cover, we're going to charge across the creek. We'll take that hamlet, and from there, hopefully we can take the rectory on the hill and silence those big guns. I'll need you soldiers leading the assault. Can you do it?"

Argo glanced at each of the others, ending with Kirito. The former Black Swordsman answered for them all. "We can, sir."

Within a few minutes, the artillery was good to go. Eugene fired a final burst from his MG42 before giving the signal. The Spec Ops team watched as the first Alliance shells whistled overhead and dropped down on the enemy. Within half a minute, the NazBol artillery and pillboxes were silent as the NazBols scurried for cover. Those howitzers sure do pack a punch, thought Kirito as he observed a pillbox explode.

Eugene gave a nod, and Argo hopped up over the trench wall and started down the hill a few steps. After several seconds with no enemy fire, she motioned to the rest of the team. As they started running down the hill, Donskoi raised his PPSh-41 and in a deep voice bellowed over the artillery: "For the fallen!"

Kirito heard a resounding chorus of war cries in response, and he didn't have to look behind him to know that the Army soldiers who had been avoiding death in this trench for 5, 10, 20 hours – these players, some of whom had just minutes ago been too scared to even look at the enemy – they were right behind him. At least a hundred men and women charging down the snowy hill in order to wreck vengeance on their attackers, who had ended so many lives. It was a feeling Kirito had last felt in SAO during boss battles.

It may have been the wind in his eyes, or it may have been something else, but tears were definitely running down Kirito's cheeks.

The charge encountered a moment of awkwardness when they met the tiny stone bridge. It was only wide enough to fit about four or five people, so those at the back of the charge had to wait a bit before they could cross. At this point, Sergei, who had stayed behind along with a token force, ordered the artillery to cease fire. The players charged the hamlet, this time silently, intent on catching the NazBols off guard. Kirito spotted a NazBol emerge from a cellar. When the enemy soldier saw a hundred angry Alliance soldiers charging him, he promptly toppled back into the cellar.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. The sheer volume of Alliance soldiers quickly overwhelmed the NazBols in the hamlet. A NazBol would run out a door or lean out a window, only to meet a dozen or more bullets. Kirito noticed that Snow was firing her StG-44 almost non-stop.

Soon the hamlet was clear, which left the rectory uphill. A tall stone wall surrounded the rectory grounds on all sides except the western face, which was well guarded by pillboxes and a trench. Massive wooden doors stood in the center of the northern wall, facing the hamlet. As the players made their way up the hill to the doors, they could hear NazBols inside frantically shouting orders, no doubt preparing for a fierce defensive struggle. A NazBol sniper in one of the rectory's towers fired a shot that narrowly missed General Eugene but instead hit a nearby soldier. Roaring with fury, Eugene peppered the tower with rounds. The dead NazBol fell out of view without a sound. Eugene made sure the other soldier was still alive before training his MG42 on the tower, daring any more NazBols to reveal themselves.

"Liz, you're up!" called Argo as the players formed up against the wall on either side of the double doors. Liz trotted up to the doors and planted a C4 pack squarely in the middle. After everyone moved back a safe distance, Eugene gave a nod, and Liz activated the detonator.

With a sound like thunder, the doors shattered, spraying wood up and outward. Sending up another battle cry, the Alliance started to pour into the rectory grounds.

Awaiting them were dozens of NazBols firing from behind gravestones, fences, and sheds, as well as from the rectory itself. Also greeting the Alliance was a Tiger I heavy tank. Kirito's eyes widened in alarm. "Find cover!" he shouted over the incoming fire. Immediately he swung left, leaped over a small stone wall, and shoulder rolled behind a shed. Not a second later, the tank fired its main gun, blasting a bloody hole in the Alliance ranks. Kirito had little doubt that several players were killed instantly, in addition to many others left with little health and red-clouded vision in the face of massive enemy fire. The players who hadn't breached the rectory wall yet fell back, unwilling to share the fate of those in the first wave.

This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. Kirito scanned the tank shell crater before him, trying to see if anyone in the Spec Ops team had been killed. He caught a glimpse of Liz and Argo dashing into an open doorway below the tower where the sniper had been. His heart soared, but only for a second. He spotted Donskoi and Padorin dragging a limp Troffimov away. Snow was kneeling near the demolished doors; this time she really was firing her StG-44 non-stop. Her face was as neutral as ever, but her eyes burned with fury. She's going to get herself killed, he thought.

Making a quick decision, Kirito started picking off NazBols from the corner of the shed. The enemy was still concentrating on the breach in the wall, so he encountered very little return fire. Kirito worked with such efficiency that he downed fifteen of them using sixteen bullets. While he reloaded, he made a dash for the tall stone wall and raced along it, counting on continued NazBol distraction to allow him to make his way to the southeast corner of the grounds, which was empty of activity. Once there, not only was Kirito safely in cover behind the back of the rectory's main chamber, he was also behind the Tiger tank. Wasting no time, he sprinted up to the tank and tossed a C4 pack under the belly of the beast. He was in the process of running a safe distance away when he slipped on an icy puddle and fell forward, inadvertently pressing the button of the detonator.

On the down side, the resulting explosion nearly cost him his life. On the up side, it changed the course of the battle. The exploding Tiger took out a number of nearby NazBols and severely startled the others. Why had their tank just exploded? It couldn't have been an RPG; even if an Alliance soldier had survived the overwhelming fire long enough to fire a bazooka, the smoke trail would've been visible. Was it possible that the tank crew had made some sort of catastrophic mistake? Had the Alliance just deployed a secret super-accurate artillery gun whose shells made no sound as they flew?

The NazBols didn't have much time to contemplate these questions. A new wave of Alliance soldiers surged in, slowly but steadily pushing the defenders on the rectory grounds back into the rectory. Meanwhile, Argo, Liz, and other players who had already made their way inside went to work clearing the halls.

By the time Kirito was able to stand up, smelling of smoke and covered in unidentifiable particles, the bulk of the battle had moved indoors. He made his way around the burning corpse of the Tiger and headed for a hole that had been blasted in one of the walls, using his M1911 to clear his path. Once inside, he ran into Liz and Argo.

"Where's Snow?" Kirito asked as they made their way through the halls towards the rectory's main chamber.

"Not sure." Argo's expression was grim as she reloaded her Mini-Uzi. "Maybe she's clearing the trenches in front of the rectory."

"She'll be alright," Liz assured. "She's tough." But there was uncertainty on her face.

Kirito was about to inquire about the other three members of the Spec Ops team, but a NazBol with an RPD machine gun appeared at the end of the corridor, precluding further chitchat.

Soon the rectory's main chamber was the only part left to clear. "Stack up!" barked Argo as they approached the door to the room. While Kirito and Liz stood off to the side, Argo tried kicking the door. Immediately a hail of bullets perforated the wood. Argo barrel rolled out of the way. "Liz, would you do the honors?"

Liz grinned humorlessly. "It would be my pleasure." She proceeded to shoot the door's hinges with her shotgun. Ignoring the renewed hail of bullets, she pounded the door with the shotgun's butt. As soon as the door caved inward, Argo threw a flashbang.

The team swept into the chamber, quickly downing the NazBols stumbling about, clutching their ears. Silence fell upon the rectory. Argo lowered her Mini-Uzi, wiping a palm across her forehead.

In the center of the room lay a battle map of the area. It had a few gunshot holes in it, as if a panicking NazBol had shot the map at the last moment in a desperate attempt to deny the Alliance intel. Scratching at a spot of dirt on his cheek leftover from the tank explosion, Kirito glanced over the rest of the chamber: scattered books and papers, one or two chests, stairs leading to a balcony, a radio set…

Argo walked over to the table. "Let's see if there's anything interesting in these maps," she said as she laid down her Mini-Uzi.

"I'm going to check out the radio." Kirito began walking over to the corner of the room.

"There's a rad-? Look out!" Before he had time to react, Kirito felt himself tackled to the ground. As he hit the floor, a rifle shot rang out. A split-second later, he heard the boom of a shotgun.

For a moment, he lay there, frozen in confusion. He hadn't taken any damage, that was good. Had a hidden NazBol tackled him and then somehow missed a point-blank shot? He tried to identify the person on top of him by reaching behind with his arm and…

Wait, he thought, that feels like a woman…

An indignant shriek broke the silence.

Not one of Kirito's brightest moments.

Sighing with a heavy feeling of de ja vu, Kirito turned his head to survey the damage he had wrought. On top of him lay Argo, her blushing face emanating conflicting emotions. A dozen feet away stood Liz, mouth hanging open in shock, her shotgun still pointed at the now-thoroughly-dead NazBol officer. The latter clutched a sniper rifle, pointing in Kirito's general direction.

The only thing Kirito could think of to say was "Well, that was close."

"You're telling me." The girl on top of him had converted her embarrassed and conflicted expression to a coy smirk. "That was a little too forward of you, Kii-bou. Though, I will say," she added, sniffing deeply and tracing a finger over his dirty face, "you are quite… shall I say… smokin'."

Schik-schik. The unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped.

"Well," said Kirito as he hastily pushed Argo off of him in the politest manner possible, "that's enough near-death experiences for one day."

Liz made a noise that could have easily come from a bison. Argo grinned like the Cheshire cat.

But the moment was forgotten when Donskoi walked in, head down. "The others?" asked Kirito.

"Troffimov's dead."

The inside of the rectory became silent once again. Outside, they could Padorin crying "How young?! How young was he? He never told me. I never asked." A peace settled over the battlefield – not a good peace, as in peace with justice, but a negative peace, a sour peace, the simple absence of violence.

But only for a few moments. Suddenly a thunk sound came from the hallway. Followed by another. And another. Donskoi glanced out the doorway and froze, staring. Kirito, Argo, and Liz came to the doorway, curious, only for them to stop and stare as well at the scene in front of them.

Thunk. Snow was using the butt of her StG-44 to bludgeon the head of a dead NazBol.

Thunk. Once again, Kirito noted the burning eyes that betrayed her otherwise blank expression.

Thunk. The NazBol's face became less face-like with each blow.

"Stop." Kirito forced himself to move forward, approaching his team member. "Snow, stop."

Thunk. Snow didn't stop. She didn't even appear to hear.

"Snow, stop, please," Kirito pleaded, barely keeping his voice from breaking. When Snow pulled back her gun for another smash, Kirito grabbed the gun.

In a flash, a knife was tickling his throat. "Let go of my f***ing gun." Snow's whisper sent chills down Kirito's face, but that was nothing compared to the look she was giving him. Her mouth strained to remain level as her eyes bulged.

Argo and Liz drew their M4 and Desert Eagle, matching Snow's knife speed, but Kirito waved them off. "Snow, listen. It won't do any good."

"HOW THE F*** DO YOU KNOW?!" The neutral expression had shattered like glass. "How the f*** do you know if it'll do any f***ing good or not? You think you know good and bad? You think you know how to be strong? You think you have any f***ing idea what I've been going through?" Snow's entire body shook with pent-up rage. "Lemme tell you something, co-commander. You don't know s*** about me!"

"True. I don't know anything about you. But I'm pretty sure I know a bit of what you're feeling, and even if I didn't –"

"You DARE say you have any f***ing clue what I'm –"

"Ever heard of SAO?"

That stopped her. She was still giving him the death glare, still shaking badly, but her eyes widened just a bit. Behind him, Liz and Argo flinched audibly.

Kirito's voice was suddenly calm. "When I was in SAO, I was talented. I was gifted. Much more gifted than most other players. Over the course of two years, dozens… hundreds of people died right before my eyes. Some of it wasn't my fault. Some of it was." He ignored the virtual blood dripping from a small cut in his neck from Snow's shaking knife. He made sure he never lost eye contact with her. "Either way, I took it hard. Whether you like it or not, I've stood where you're standing right now. So let me tell you from experience: s*** like this doesn't do any good."

Silence. He could feel her muscles weakening. The pure rage in her eyes began burning itself out, leaving behind a smoking lump of frustration and sadness.

"Let go of my f***ing gun," Snow whimpered, her voice cracking at the edges.

Kirito let go.

The knife and StG-44 clattered to the floor, shortly followed by Snow herself. The girl clutched at her tear-stained face in agony as her body wracked with silent sobs.

One by one, first Kirito, then Liz, then Argo sat down next to their suffering team member. Eventually Donskoi joined them, followed by Padorin, Eugene, and countless others. Not hugging her, not whispering to her, not even putting a hand on her shoulder. Just sitting with her on the blood-stained and rubble-covered floor.

That night was one of the coldest in virtual memory.

A/N: It's a scientifically proven fact that more reviews correlates with greater update frequency. (just kidding)

For those desperately waiting for Asuna, bear with me. Just a few more chapters. Hope you're enjoying so far.