6
Eiji
Tokyo: 30 Minutes earlier
No kidding this might take a while. We've been sitting here, watching, for nearly an hour—the café keeps a revolving door as customers come and go, and then there's the ones who stay—groups to watch closely. Conversations across booths. Tables waited. A high-school-aged girl laying on the shoulder of a friend. Arimoto bets that's the one full-diving. I buy it, but I thought there'd be more based off Yuna's data—I guess there could be more.
Yuna. Stay safe.
"You doing all right?" Arimoto calmly asks. He finally lowers his binoculars, sighs, and leans back in the driver's seat. For a moment he glances towards the back of the van, where Mylo's reclined and diving from. I guess Arimoto's worried too. His eyes soften. Maybe these guys really are different—I can't remember the last time I got a look like that from someone besides Yuna.
"Are you?" I borrow Arimoto's binoculars, peeking through the front window of the café. Besides the revolving door of customers, still no change, but if Yuna's doing her best on the other side, I should too. Suddenly I hear Arimoto laugh—random.
"Sorry, sorry." Arimoto sighs. He hunches forward in the seat, wrapping his arms around the steering wheel. "I'm just usually the one checking in on others; not used to getting the same question back."
"Mylo doesn't ask?" I murmur with some spite still at the edge of my tongue.
"He does, in his own way." Arimoto says. "It's hard to take care of others when you're struggling to take care of yourself."
There's been no change in this area. I'm trying to stay focused, but the curiosity is getting to me. Those sword skills, those fighting skills, but no record of being an SAO survivor—despite a clear emotional connection to Kayaba—
"What's his deal?" I ask.
"Pretty similar to yours actually," Arimoto says. "I won't share too much, just because it should be his story to tell—and maybe telling it to someone with similar experiences can help him—"
Me—him—talk it out?
"I see that expression you're making." Arimoto chuckles for a moment. I hear him settle back into the silence. "Mylo's father was an SAO player—a scout for dungeons, boss rooms and information brokers from what I hear."
"That's dangerous work." I admit. Scouting parties and information brokers were invaluable for the front lines after Beta testers lost the advantage of intel from experience in later floors.
"I imagine he did it out of necessity." Arimoto says. "Like many players trapped in the game, he wanted to get back home to his family as quickly as possible, and he had the real-world experience of military service and tactics to back up his position. Aside from the fact that he and his son were avid gamers of course."
Wait—I put down the binoculars.
"So Mylo didn't—he was never in SAO? Even though they gamed together?" I ask.
"His father put on the NerveGear first." Arimoto shakes his head. "From what he's told me, he didn't receive his own until about a week later. By then, everyone was painfully aware of what was at stake—the consequences of putting on the NerveGear."
"So they waited-" And hoped.
Arimoto leans back, eyeing Mylo again. He holds gaze over his sleep-like body for a while. Arimoto really cares about him. "It probably goes without saying—but his father never made it out." Arimoto's brows furrow.
"Besides, you're not the only one who's name didn't make it in the book."
Everyone lost something—I turn back to Mylo in the backseat. We have that in common.
"Ari—"
"Hold up." Arimoto leans towards the windshield. I hand off the binoculars as he leans even closer. Movement?
"What is it?" I ask. I just see another group walking past the door, into the café. Nothing conspicuous yet.
"Eiji, unlock the backdoor, standby." Arimoto calmly says. He sees something. I crouch through the van. Mylo's body lays even further back. I click unlock on the backdoor.
"Those three people who went in; one of them was window shopping beforehand. Another one came in before."
"So?"
"Just a hunch." Arimoto grimaces as he strokes his chin. "Can't hurt to be careful, right?"
I rub the cold central processing unit of the exo-suit, attached at my nape.
"I need you to go inside and just check things out. But, if you get a bad feeling, I want you to rush back right away, got it?" Arimoto says.
The exo-suit enhances speed and reflexes. I should be ok. I zip up my jacket over the suit underneath. The clarity and balance in my movements-the adrenaline interweaving with a spark of nimbleness—my body feels as light as my ALO avatar. I can do this.
"Ready." I roll the sliding door open and face daylight. Yuna—I turn back to them, diving in the back seat. "Look after them."
"Will do, kid." Arimoto smiles.
I hop out and pace down the alleyway. The van engine coughs from behind-Arimoto's starting the engine, just in case. Fair, we don't know what to expect. The ambient city surrounds this place in bustling sound, but it's fading back—to my heart—racing. Yuna's doing her part. Everyone is. I can do this. Kirito wouldn't hesitate. I feel a chuckle slip out as I step up to the door, pull the handle, and walk inside—a bell ring—don't get startled, it's just to let the employees know.
I'll buy something at the front—scan around while I'm walking—I see the girl leaning on her friend in the booth: shoulder-length dark hair. She looks asleep, but there's an Augma around her ear—definitely full-diving with lookouts. Sanji's friends? There's two others sitting across from her. Four in the booth total there—now, the group that just walked in—up ahead: A middle-aged couple, a woman with flame-red curls and dressed for summer with her arm wrapped around a tall gentleman wearing a baseball cap and shades—indoors. They're just checking menu options above the counter.
Wait.
Where's the third one?
Check every corner—check without making it look obvious—but, where are they? The café booths and tables are packed. No one besides myself and this couple are standing around.
"Excuse me, sir?" A female voice.
I snap back in front of me. The woman with red curls smiles at me—it feels familiar.
"You can skip ahead of us, we're still not sure." She says.
"Uh, ok, sure." Gotta work on my social small-talk. I step forward to the cashier. Just then—is that? I check my right—a second man in a baseball cap, moving to the back wall of the café just by the counter, out of sight for the cashier—to the fire alarm. He pulls it.
They're making a move.
The siren in the café wails to head splitting volume. Suddenly, every resident shoots up and out of the booth, confused.
"Please, keep calm everyone!" The cashier shouts. "Just move out in a calm orderly fashion while we figure out what's going on!"
The kids.
Everyone's filing for the exit—where are they? I check the booth again. The dark-haired girl's friend shakes her as she suddenly jolts awake—her full-dive's been interrupted. She twists and turns in panic. The rest of her friends file out with her. I need to keep track of them—can't lose sight. I'll walk out too, with a few people in the evacuation between us. We cross into the outside. Confused clamor fills the streets as employees usher the crowd to wait a safe distance from the café. The kids from before stand in the middle of all of it. The dark-haired girl from before—she's searching frantically. She grabs one of her friends. I listen, closely.
"I have to get back in there. Sanji—"
"It might not be safe here, lets go back to the dorms, or somewhere else."
They break away from the pack. Should I follow them, or fall back to Arimoto? He's seeing all of this right now, I'm sure.
Wait—if this is to get everyone out of the café—the kids run, already near the end of the block.
"No, wait!" I shout when I realize it—the ploy to get them out, spooked, and on the run towards—
An unmarked black van screeches at the end of the street. The kids abruptly stop before turning back to run the other way. The van door rolls open, and a squad of black masks grabs the dark-haired girl first. The 3rd-party.
No. Burst forward—I may not have my sword, but I can still move faster than any of them!
One of the masked assailants peeks up—they see me coming. They pull back into the van with the girl caught in their arm. Another slams the side as they slide the door closed. Tires squeal.
"No!" Push faster—gotta go faster! Adrenaline burns through my chest and legs—the tension in everything—as I push harder. With the exo-suit it should be easier, it should be, but—they're getting further away as the van roars further and further down the street, slowly becoming just an echo. Damnit!
More tires screeching. I look left. The white van drives parallel to me, and the back-door slides open automatically as it drives. Arimoto's focused through the windshield.
"Get in!" He shouts.
YUNA
ALO: Present
Analyzing…Their code. There's something off about it, the red one and Sanji. It's been bugging me since their announcement, and it matches the same pattern as the tent construction over the amphitheater. I hear their footsteps. I'm gaining on them. They couldn't have gotten far, but if everything's been compromised, why haven't they just logged out, or transferred consciousness across The Seed? Could they be—
Woah! A player avatar's hand nearly knocked me out of air.
Zipping over the heads of player avatars crawling over each other in hoards is difficult enough. Hopefully Mylo can hold off the crowd and catch up, but I don't know how that'll be possible.
Eiji—Naut—I hope he's safe. I know he's doing his best on the other side. I have to do the same; we're in this together, and we're not a lone anymore.
We need to focus—forward!
I propel to the backstage of the amphitheater. It's shrouded in shadows as the crimson lighting of the tent cuts off here, and the giant crumbled stone wall on stage secludes this back half. I'm on my own for now, and the footsteps of those two have stopped. Did I lose them?
Analyzing…Checking player registry…Log data? [Yes]…Loading…
Weird.
Sanji's player data—there's no recent logins past the date Mylo and Arimoto intercepted him. That means—
A two-handed great sword narrowly misses as it swings from the edge of the dark. A fight.
Load Player Avatar? [Yes]…Loading…
We have to change form—we gave Mylo our word.
I can feel it, the proportions of my body shifting, becoming heavier but more grounded, stronger—more like myself back then. I leap backwards with that weight. A knife sheath and buckle wrap around my waist, and I can feel the familiar skills returning to me like an old reflex, just buried under the code. Based off what Mylo said, my other form feels like a shade—in this form the veil's lifted. Now—
"Stop hiding in the shadows." I say. I draw my dagger and take up stance in front of the shadows. It's coming.
Another wide swing of the great sword, this time downwards, with a return of the blade, pulling backwards, to cut through me—I summon the silver great shield to hover beside me and ricochet the sword as it chisels in sparks across the shield's surface and returns to the shadows. The hands wielding it move into the dim crimson light. What should be Sanji slowly steps out of the dark with a dissatisfied expression.
We can see it—that corrupted red code—it's flowing all throughout him.
"Who are you?" I murmur.
Sanji readies his great sword by taking up stance, waiting for another opening. He smiles.
PROXIMITY WARNING.
I duck immediately. A kama swings just over my head, and I feel the air shift from the strike as I leap back—SANJI—the great sword swings for me again with my back turned as I summon my great shield to cover me. His sword strike rebounds off the surface. I look forward. The masked player in red appears out of the shadows, wielding a kusarigama. I jump to the side, building distance between him and "Sanji". I can't get caught in the middle of them like that—need to keep them both in my view.
But this is bad. I expected to tail them, not fight two-on-one, and I'm primarily a support build. How long can I hold off a build with range and AGL and another that's clearly built for STR?
Shake it off—we can do this. Everyone's relying on me. I have to hold them here.
"Who are you?" I stall.
"You must've come late to the presentation, Yuna." Sanji smugly grins. "You know, we weren't expecting such a noteworthy guest of honor, but since you're here—" He takes up stance, his sword in both hands and by his right waist, now. "I think we'll be taking you. You'll be useful to the cause."
It's a trap.
They dash in opposite arcs around me—they're trying to wedge me between their attacks again. Can't get caught! Switch to reverse grip on the knife—I need to stay on the defensive first!
The great sword swings to my right; the fundo from the red one's kusarigama swings to my left—swinging from the rear—duck—the fundo and its momentum whips overhead as another summoned great shield materializes in the path of Sanji's Great sword. Counter moves.
Loading…navigation pixie.
I pop into the smaller figure and dart from their positioning.
Loading…Player avatar.
Still with the reverse-gripped knife but triangulated between them and with distance. They rush forward again. This time the iron-weight fundo leads with a vicious wail, swiping the air in my face again and again—they're pushing me further and further back.
Sanji.
I spot him running to my side for an opening as he lunges his sword in for a thrust-summon the Great Shield! Another block against the Great sword, but I feel a tug on my knife hand. I look down. The metal chain and fundo are wrapped around my blade, and the red one is advancing. He snaps back the handle on his sickle as the knife escapes my grip.
Not good!
Sanji ducks and pivots to my rear, preparing another wide swing as the red one draws back his sickle to strike—I'm caught between them with no counter-attack—I summon twin great shields for my front and rear as both strikes collide and grind with the shield's surface. I have no other immediate moves. Can I get to the knife?
I barrel roll between the hovering shields and twist around, just in time for the sickle to swipe against my shoulder, drawing red code to spill into the air. The pain is real for someone like us.
I clutch my wound, but they're attacks are unrelenting—they're giving no space to recover and think. I have to keep up. I promised Naut.
The sickle.
I grab the red one's swinging arm and draw him in, digging the sickle into my shoulder—even through the searing pain—I can't stop now; the chain follows the momentum, and I lift my arm to ring it around like a gauntlet. The red one's momentum pulls forward as I jerk that arm back.
Great Shield.
The hovering shield appears between us, blocking the red one's momentum with a heavy slam as he crumbles to the hard rock stage floor. I leap back now—I don't know when Sanji will make his counter move.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
I look up. Sanji claps his hands in an ovation. He's been standing there.
"It seems we underestimated you!" Sanji cheers. "We could really use someone with your spunk for our cause."
"What is your cause?" I look Sanji up and down again. Now I'm sure of it: that adjustable code, he's shifting his appearance in-game to look like Sanji.
"I thought we made that clear at today's event." Sanji frowns as he facepalms.
"You're not fooling anyone. You're not really Sanji." I say.
"Oh?" Sanji devilishly grins. "I forgot, you can see the truth of this reality for what it is. You're just like me."
I knew it. An advanced A.I., hybrid, with real-world memories from a past life—but are they Sanji's? Would that still make this the same person?
"Is Sanji really dead?" I ask.
"Yes," The imposter smiles. "But his legend among the community as a martyr—well, who's to say he won't live on in the stories they'll tell?"
"It's a lie."
"Who's telling?" The imposter laughs.
"What do you really want?" I ask. His words are dancing in circles.
"I already told you." The imposter just grins. The red one clambers off the floor with their masked cracked and crumbling. Blue pixels frizz around it until it dissipates. As the face rises, I see his empty dark eyes, his short black hair with long bangs, and a twisted smile. He pulls back his long red sleeve and reveals a golden apple insignia on his forearm.
I know that insignia—Eiji read to us about a guild with one from the SAO incident report.
"It's not a lie, entirely." The imposter glows. "Grimlock here was one of the first in line to take the risks of digitizing consciousness—something about not being able to live with himself in the real world anymore—I'd say it worked out pretty well for him."
Grimlock adjusts his collar and lowers his sleeve; another kusarigama slides out of its shadow and into his hand.
"We just need more devout volunteers to make it real for everyone else." The imposter continues. "1 in 1000 is a lofty chance, but why else would he send us the technology if it wasn't his intention to make it happen?"
"Kayaba?" I say.
"How observant." The imposter snaps his fingers. He slings his Great sword just over his shoulder. "Anyways, you'll be a big help to progressing our success rate—mapping the human brain and integration with full-dive VR is so tedious. You're another perfect example of real-world and virtual A.I. integration. Who knows, maybe we can make it 1 in 100 instead. Wouldn't you want to take part, to limit any potential casualties?"
"You can't do this." I take up stance. "I won't let you."
"In the end, they'll chose to." The imposter takes up stance. Grimlock too.
"That's all I needed to hear."
Mylo?
Everyone turns towards the shadows-to the direction of the stage. Mylo staggers forward, shoulder's hunched and head downbeat with red pixel scarring all over his avatar. The Sonic Buster drags by his side. His body stiffens then sways beside me, but his eyes turn upward, glaring at both Grimlock and The Imposter.
"Tell me. Where is he?" Mylo growls.
"Who are you again?" The imposter tilts his head with a grin—teasing.
"The fact that you don't know means Umbra was right." Mylo swivels the Sonic Buster in front of us to defend. He turns to me—I know he can see the sickle dug into my shoulder. Now that he's here, I have a moment to heal myself.
Fast Heal. The pain dissipates as the wound closes. The sickle falls out and clangs to the stone floor. Mylo nods to me. I cast Heal. Green aura surrounds him as his HP returns to green. He straightens his posture and takes up an offensive position.
"You wanted to know how good we were in a fight." I say.
"You gained my trust long before now." Mylo leans in. He surges forward as the imposter rears back his sword, and Grimlock sidesteps to swing his fundo. It's two-on-two now; we're not alone.
Great Shield!
Eiji
Tokyo: Present
We can't let them get away!
Arimoto floors it as the van rushes by cars in the street, pursuing the Black Van. It's exiting for a freeway. Cars swerve around us, but Arimoto focuses, bearing forward on the wheel, saccades through the windshield. Mylo's head bobbles in the backseat.
We're gaining. The Black van has no plates, and the windows look tinted. Who are these people?
"Kid, can you take the wheel?" Arimoto grunts.
Wha?
Arimoto starts leaning off the wheel; my hands take hold on instinct. My foot replaces his on the gas.
"Switch!" I yell. Arimoto eases out of the driver's seat as I replace him. We're side by side with the Black van now as Arimoto struggles to the back of the van behind the sliding door. I hear the click of a magazine in the back.
"Wait! What are you-"
I see the Black Van slide it's door open, but a gun cracks—shots fired—from our side. The black door fully opens as Arimoto slides ours open and locks it as the wind screams inside the van. He jumps.
Mylo
ALO: Present
Yuna's shield can cover my blind spot. I'm going for Grimlock first; we need to immobilize him, get him off the board so we can focus on the red one—who knows what tricks he has.
I feel the light advantage of this body as my feet kick off the stone floor. I rear back the Sonic Buster and sprint forward. I'm going to get close inside the range of that steel ball weight—if all he has is the sickle, he can't guard against blades with strength stats this high.
I duck under the first swing of Grimlock's steel weight on the chain—roll under the second—I can see the dim illumination of the chain as it comes in; my body's light enough to react.
Great Sword.
I see the fake Sanji charging for my side with his Great Sword glowing, an activated sword skill Vorpal Strike, but Yuna's Great Shield appears between us and blocks it. As the shield dissipates, I swing the lower end of The Sonic Buster for good measure, to build even more distance between us as the Fake backs up to dodge. He swivels about-face to ready his Great Sword again in stance.
Just then, I hear Yuna panting as her footsteps tap on the stone and push forward. Fighting these guys must've given her some confidence to advance on offense in 1-on-1 combat. She's going after Grimlock as he rears the steel weight again on the chain. She needs to get in fast.
"Yuna!" I shout setting one of Sonic Buster's blades horizontal, and low to the ground. I hope she understands; I've never done team moves before.
"Right!" Yuna leaps forward, and I swing the flat of the blade against her feet Reverb: Repulse! She launches. Grimlock can't even pull back the chain in time; A flicker of crimson light appears in Yuna's grip, her knife, as she shoots straight for Grimlock, raising his sickle to guard.
Double Time.
I switch blade ends. Reverb: Repulse! The sonic wave clashes against the stone floor as obscuring dust kicks up. Yuna's avatar disappears into the thin cloud, Grimlock screams after. Hopefully she pinned him.
"Clever! Clever!" The fake Sanji swings for me as I block and parry. "A skill that uses Sound energy—how troublesome—we'll definitely have to remove you." His weapon glows again, readying another sword skill as he lunges, and I swing. A sharp chime resonates.
Arimoto
Tokyo: Present
Barreling in!
Three in masks: One driver, two in the back—the girl laying in the back—looks drugged. A fist swings for my face—block, shin kick—
Duck.
Another fist. I grab the arm of the assailant as the wind and tires screech behind me from the open door; the van is coming to a halt. Two of us slam into the backs of the front row seats—shake it off. The girl. She's priority.
One of the assailant's pulls a gun in the darkness of the van; I wrestle their partner crumpled beside me and grab him as a body shield.
They won't fire. The assailant just stands there, pistol raised. Suddenly the van rocks violently; something hit us—Eiji's driving—I throw the assailant over the gunman; they both fall over, and the gun clacks against the floor of the van. Gotta get it out of here. I kick the gun out into the open-air. Eiji's still keeping up side by side in the white van—great driving, kid—I hurry to the back and sling the unconscious girl over my shoulders. Suddenly this van screeches to a full stop.
Through the windshield I see that we're in an alleyway. The two assailants slowly clamber to their feet, but a fist from outside swings for one of them, violently fast. Red circuit lines glow around the fist. The first assailant falls as I shoulder-charge the second. The driver twists around with pistol drawn as leap out of the open door—Eiji's just ahead of me—the fist must've been his. That exo-suit makes him run at a blitz pace. He makes it to the van first and presses the gas as I slump the girl inside with a running start and crawl in. Bullet's whiz across the top frame as I slam the sliding door shut. We're out.
Mylo
ALO: Present
"I've got him pinned!" Yuna shouts as the dust cloud dissipates. She has Grimlock pierced with her knife through his shoulder, and her great shields flattening his legs and fighting hand to the stone. She bears over him in her black and purple troubadour outfit. I can't help smiling at the sight; She really did it.
I turn back as the pretender Sanji pants, leaning on his Great Sword.
"To be honest, I expected more." I taunt. "At least the real Sanji showed guts when he got put on the ropes in Alfheim."
For a split second a twitch appears around the pretender's face, a glitch of pixels, stirring, revealing a different and harsher face before reforming back into the idealized Sanji avatar.
Who are you?
"Where's Kayaba?" I ask, staying on mission.
He chuckles until it builds to laughter, and then—something manic. His body contorts as he holds himself in his arms—like he's trying to keep himself together. His great sword dissipates. Suddenly, the entire red tabernacle glitches in pixels and vanishes instantly. The sun and blue-sky return over the Amphitheater.
"Hilarious! You know, if she understood even half her potential, you wouldn't even need to ask that question." The pretender catches his breath. He looks over at Grimlock writhing and still pinned down. "Sorry, Grimlock. You were surprisingly faithful given your past transgressions."
Shit!
I rush in—I have to stop him.
"Thank you for your sacrifice." The pretender smiles.
"Yuna! Move!" I manage to shout.
Glitching pixels appear on the stone floor surrounding Grimlock. Yuna leaps back, and stone spikes erect from the floor, impaling Grimlock while lifting him off the ground. Red polygons spill from his mouth—he's totally a part of this world now—he can feel all of that. I don't want to see another dead body, not again—I turn back to the pretender as he backs away slowly, hands raised like he just got caught for a minor crime—not murder.
"GAH!" I swing my sword with everything I have, all the rage towards Kayaba, the lives he's destroying, the gesture this pretender just made—like all of it is just a small price to pay in a larger game.
And that smile. The pretender just smiles as he simply lifts his arm, catches the blade, and lets it slice through. Red pixels pour out, he should be feeling it, but then he simply lunges forward and swings a fist with his intact arm, smashing into my temple.
My head pounds as it hits the dirt. I look up as I lie on my side. The fake Sanji blocks out the sun with his head as he grins over me. His pixilating chopped arm lies beside me.
"Worth it." The fake Sanji's avatar dissipates into blue pixels like simulating log out, but he's gone—somewhere into cyberspace.
"Mylo!" I hear Yuna. She rushes beside me—I'm too tired to move, or maybe just too beaten today. Somehow, I always end up eating the ground. Yuna starts to help me up, but then pauses. She looks over the pixilating red arm that the Fake Sanji left behind. Her hands graze over it with a bright flash.
"Yuna?" I ask.
"Hold on," She says. "I'm going to analyze this data a little more closely." The arm disappears, but it looks like Yuna's clutching something, even if it's only air. She does see the code differently than I do. "It will take some time though."
"And Grimlock?" I ask.
Yuna just shakes her head. He's gone.
"Let's go home." I groan as Yuna helps me up. The mission wasn't a total failure; we learned a lot of important information. We just need to keep moving forward. The warmth of the simulated sun revives some of my spirits, but I hope Umbra's ok.
Umbra
Tokyo: Post-Mission
Everything's groggy. There's some light beaming in, but—gah, I can barely see. Why won't my eyes adjust? Where am I? I was just in the café with everyone when—
"You two ok?" A gruff voice.
"I should be asking you guys, what the hell happened to the van?" A sharp voice.
"While you were gaming, we got into a high-speed chase." A low voice.
I've been captured. I was loaded into a van. In fact, I can still hear an engine rumbling. I must be there. Why can't I see?
"Gaming? Are you really going to demean your girlfriend's hard work like that?"
Wait, girlfriend?
"You know that's not what I meant; don't twist my words—hey, get that smug look off your face."
"Wanna duel again?"
"Booooys."
What is going on? These—don't sound like kidnappers—they make too much racket.
"Nah, don't want Yuna to get upset when she has to take care of you again after."
"BOYS."
Yuna? Wait, that voice—it sounded familiar, and it said Yuna. My vision's getting clearer. I can make out hazy outlines, definitely car seats, and that blinding light is coming from the windshield—with four figures or outlines in front of it. Blink. Blink. C'mon clear up damnit!
"Um, I think she's coming to." A voice that definitely sounds like Yuna from earlier.
Could this be—
"Hold up, I've got eye drops."
A blur fills my sight again, but when I blink, suddenly the faces resolve. Two in the front seat of a van: One with sandy hair and stubble under his sharp chin, adjusting his glasses, a brown-haired kid with lull brown eyes and a confused expression, Yuna, the AR popstar, a welcome familiar face, and what looks like an African-American kid with black hair in twists tied back, and intense eyes—intense eyes that are elevating the creep factor—creep factor—wait—Mylo.
I immediately crawl back, but there's nowhere to go.
"Who the hell are you guys?!"
The four of them look at each other, maybe waiting for someone to speak up, but for a moment they look like they're just smiling at each other, relieved. They all sigh and sink into their seats. They look too tired to answer.
*Author's note: Hey everyone! Thanks again for any time and energy spent reading SAO ALT: Specter. I really appreciate it. I wanted to make sure this chapter wrapped up with the full team officially together, and I wanted this fight to serve as the starting point to the team learning to lean on each other, especially Mylo and Eiji moving forward (Interesting things coming for their character arcs among others). Let me know what you think of this messy little project so far if you have time, and happy New Year! Be easy.
-EF
Sidenote: Quick edits were made in chapters 1 and 2 to correct the timeline for what's coming next. Previously, these chapters described the story events as taking place in Autumn after the War of Underworld, but because of what's taking place in Chapter 7, I had to make sure the prior chapters took place in the summer, and that the mission in this chapter wrapped up by July 30th-31st. Hint, hint, wink, wink.