There were very few times in Argo's life where she didn't have some sort of plan. She always had back ups, contingencies, backdoors both literal and figurative. Running away was possibly the worst decision she could have made, even as it happened she knew it was stupid. Her best odds for getting out were if she'd just stick with the group and wait until the government could fix it. Nevertheless, Argo still ran away, just like she always did.

She cursed herself as she slipped away from her trainer's group, she cursed herself as she climbed the fence, and cursed herself as she disappeared into the mountains. By Argo's best guess, she'd probably put 10 kilometers between her and the base. At first, she always walked at least 15 feet away from the road she was following, ready to hide in the trees or hedges if a car came. But as time went on and Argo passed by empty house after empty house, silent supermarkets with parking lots devoid of cars, without seeing so much as a distant airplane, she walked in the middle of the road. It was like being the last human on Earth.

Argo tried to stay focused, but with every step she took, her self-loathing grew and grew. She finally reached a bus stop with a bench and sat down, burying her face in her hands and trying not to sob. Argo the information broker was cool and collected, maybe not always in control of the situation, but always in control of herself. The girl who ran wasn't Argo, she was Hosaka Tomo, a reject, a social outcast, and a complete shut-in. If the real Argo, the girl Hosaka always wanted to be, was trapped here it would have been completely different. Argo would've done what was smartest, she would've pulled back to reassess the situation, separate rumor from reality, and then take the logical next step. With as much as Hosaka played Argo the information broker in VR games, she'd actually begun to believe Argo and her were one and the same. The shattering of that fragile delusion almost made her feel worse than the non-negligible chance of death. In spite of all her pretending, Hosaka was still that scared girl who'd rather run away than deal with her problems. She just put on a mask to impersonate someone who could confront them, and then when actual trouble came knocking, she didn't even have the guts to keep the act up. The girl behind the mask didn't deserve to be called Argo, and yet, as the dog tags that hung around her neck insisted, that was who she was for the foreseeable future.

Argo cried herself to sleep for the first time in four years in the shade of the virtual bus stop. No dreams came to her. She only slept three hours and woke up feeling functional, if not better. As miserable as she was, the mistake had been made, and the only thing Argo could do now was damage control. Taking stock of her situation, she began muttering to herself, as if voicing her thoughts aloud would give them more weight.

"Things are not good. But they're not as bad as they could be." Argo paused to think. "The JSDF won't immediately think I've run away, the base is large and easy to get lost in. That being said, they've probably set up a perimeter by now, so sneaking back in isn't a great idea." She furrowed her brow, scouring her memory for useful details that went unnoticed at first blush. "There were probably thousands of players at that base alone. The promotional material claimed they'd have approximately one trainer for every ten players, but even if you factor in reservists that were called up to participate, that ratio probably isn't accurate, and it varies between jobs." She sighed, painfully aware of the weird inflection in her voice. "If they're looking for me by now, they're probably going to start by having my squadmates scan the crowd for my squadmate symbol." Something occurred to Argo, and she flicked her finger to access the menu. It took a minute of searching, but she found it. Argo hit the confirmation button, leaving her assigned squad.

"Now," Argo began, "where the fuck to?" The empty air in front of her didn't provide an answer. "If I'm going to be a coward I might as well commit." Argo said, pointedly ignoring the fresh wave of self loathing that washed over her. "Most of the fighting's going to be near the border, so going far south would be smart, but that seems like the first place they'd look for runaways, and I doubt I'm the only one to fly the coop. Also, if they find some way to log out before the shooting starts, I might be too far away to notice they've left before our one week timer is up and the North Koreans come down." Argo paused again, rubbing her temples. "Seoul. That works. It's big enough to hide in for months on end, and if we don't get out within a week, I can head further south." Argo got up and started down the road, heading west, leaving a pair of dog tags buried in the ditch next to the bus stop.

As she walked, Argo opened her menu and stared at the still-present message from Akihiko Kayaba that started all this. 'Attention: Players of WGO, your lives are in danger.' It was so impersonal, as if he didn't care one way or the other if they survived or not. 'You may have noticed in the design specs for your NerveGears that they have the capability to emit microwaves at high dosages. If someone outside attempts to remove it from your head, they will now activate and you will experience instantaneous brain death.' Was that true? Was it even possible? Despite all her skills, Argo was only passably proficient with tech, not having any particular interest in it. 'The only way to escape the game and return to your lives is to beat the simulation and win the war.' What was the point? What did this bastard stand to gain? Was he just batshit crazy? Argo read the last line. 'Good luck.' He was mocking them. It wasn't enough that he ripped away their lives and threatened to kill them, he had to rub it in. Argo ground her teeth until her jaw ached.

To pass the time, Argo looked through her profile on the menu. She had considered making her profile name 'Argo the Rat' to be easily recognizable to the clientbase she had built in other VR games that was now migrating to WGO due to the dirt cheap price tag and massive multiplayer capability. In the end, Argo decided that adding 'the Rat' to her name would draw a little too much attention; those who knew who she was could find her easily enough with just Argo. On first blush, WGO wasn't really good business for an information broker. Military discipline forbade her from coming and going as she pleased, something vital to tracking down leads and distributing information since the game lacked any long term communication system. Still, a challenge was a challenge, and Argo had been excited about the release.

While walking over a low bridge that spanned a tiny river, Argo glanced at her reflection. Immediately, she noticed her blondish-brown hair that she copied from her real self. She'd decided that, even though her real hair was more noticeable than the sea of jet black hair that almost everyone else had, it would be worth it to continue looking the same as she did in other VR games. Now that it actually mattered, Argo sorely regretted it. Her ability to blend in with crowds was basically gone. Although hard to make out in the reflection of the lazily flowing river, Argo could tell her jaw was a little less pointed and her nose was a little smaller than she was used to. Everything below that was identical to the real thing due to the AAMS. Argo leaned on the railing, looking at her hands. Apparently Argo gave the AAMS too much credit, her fingerprint was wrong. She knew because the grooves on her real fingers always looked a little like the Kanji character for 'do not'. Argo scanned her hands more thoroughly, searching for small imperfections. Argo's fingers were long and thin, but not quite bony.

Her mother had always called them 'pianist's fingers'. Argo almost flinched at the intrusive thought. She continued down the bridge and back on the road. If Kayaba was right about how the only way to leave was to win, she might spend weeks like this, months if she wasn't lucky. Argo was almost never lucky.

Eventually, even though she probably should've kept moving, curiosity got the better of Argo, and she checked inside of one of the buildings, a tiny preschool on the side of the road. The door was unlocked, and as soon as Argo had wandered in, the place made her feel uncomfortable, like she had disturbed a grave. The tile floor was waxed to perfection, as if no one had ever walked on it before, which probably was the case. The walls were undecorated, devoid of any children's drawings or finger paintings, Argo couldn't decide if this added to or detracted from the haunted feeling the preschool had. Argo was excited to find a PC sitting on a teacher's desk, but upon examination, it was just a prop and none of the walls had electrical sockets. Apparently the devs had simply forgotten to add them. Next, Argo wandered into an unusually well furnished staff room.

The room may have been normal enough, but it wasn't quite lived-in, looking more like a demo showcase in a furniture store than a real room that people lounged in. It had a few straight backed wooden chairs, a coffee table, and a counter with cupboards above it. Argo inspected the cheap looking coffee machine that sat on the countertop, only to find that it didn't even have a power cord. Due to her diminutive frame, Argo had to pull up a chair to search the cabinets. She opened the cabinet door fully expecting nothing, but was surprised to find a tall stack of ceramic plates. Without fully knowing why, Argo pulled them down and set them on the counter below. She hopped down and took one of the plain white plates in her hands, feeling the cool, glossy ceramic. A thought occurred to Argo and she looked down at the floor, the glossy, perfectly waxed, plain white tiles.

"What difference would it make?" Argo wondered aloud. After thinking for a moment, she decided it would make no difference at all. Argo raised the plate above her head and brought it down with a mighty crash, scattering bits of ceramic that bounced off her combat boots. A small grin spread across Argo's face as she took another plate in her right hand. This one was thrown like a discus into the solid wood door, making an incredibly satisfying noise. Fairly soon, all the plates were gone, replaced by little shards that littered the floor. It took a full minute before Argo's giggles finally subsided. Just for a moment, the stress and agitation of the past 24 hours melted away, all replaced with the simple pleasure of breaking shit.

Walking through the main classroom, Argo mused that the desks looked like the ones in her old middle school in Kansai, which triggered a flood of nostalgia. As depressing as it was, middle school was kind of the happiest years of her life. Despite how different she was, the others accepted her and she made friends easily. Argo remembered being confused when her father advised her to try not to make it obvious that she was from the country in her new school in Tokyo. On Argo's first day of high school, she got detention for violating dress code with her 'dyed hair'. She knew she could've called her dad and he would've explained to them that she was born blonde, but Argo really hated the thought of talking to him. So, to explain her lateness, she lied and said she'd joined a club. Argo probably could've gotten away with it even without the lie, her dad hardly ever came home before 10:00. By the time the teachers believed her that her hair was natural, she'd stopped coming to school. Argo heaved a deep, sad sigh and left the preschool unsatisfied.

Halfway through, Argo collapsed and spent the entire afternoon in the disconnection room. It was frustrating not knowing anything about what was happening outside. Was the internet at her house out? Was her physical body being moved somewhere else? Is this happening everywhere? Were the other players being extracted from the game, and would it extend to her even though she wasn't in the base? Argo spent the whole time pacing and grinding her teeth. When she came to again, Argo traveled more towards the suburbs on the outskirts of the big city, which she knew was Seoul from the conveniently placed Japanese road signs. Argo walked west towards the setting sun, memorizing all the highways she passed, their names and whether they traveled east-west or north-south.

Argo traveled deeper into the city, peeking into the windows of the corner stores, perusing their barren shelves and empty racks. When Argo first started living in Tokyo, she found it unnatural how the world was never truly quiet; there was always some noise rattling her window, car horns, loud conversations, the occasional police siren. It bothered her for so long, but eventually Argo learned to tune it out. An ironic smile was brought to her lips as she felt the very same kind of unease about the totally silent city around her. 'Dead' wasn't quite the right term to describe it, as that would imply it was once alive. 'Sterile' was closer, completely untouched by life of any kind.

As night fell, the temperature dropped, the seasons set in WGO mirrored the seasons in real life. Argo looked up suspiciously for flakes of snow, but the night sky remained cloudless and calm. The moon was nearly full, illuminating the miles of highway ahead of her. Maybe someone a little more sentimental would soak up the crisp night air and remember some Matsuo Basho poem about the moon's elegance, but Argo dug her hands into the pockets of her thin fatigue top and bitterly cursed the cold. This sour disposition was not helped by the hunger pangs that ate away at Argo's sanity bit by bit. Eventually, the tiredness and the reflective mood got to her, and Argo sorted through her memories.

Argo's dad worked and lived in Tokyo most of the time, even before she was forced to move there, so Argo lived alone in Kansai with her mother. Nobody quite understood why Argo's dad, a completely typical rank and file Tokyo salaryman, married a woman born in Vladivostok, Russia, especially one as…eccentric as Argo's mother. Argo was pretty sure that that was the reason why she'd never met her grandparents. Missing relations aside, Argo was eternally grateful that her facial features were mostly Japanese despite her brownish blonde hair. Another thing that marked her as not completely Japanese that she couldn't ignore was her middle name, which was the same as her mother's first name, Karina. Except for the fact that there was a tiny spelling mistake on her birth certificate, making her Hosaka Carina Tomo instead of Hosaka Karina Tomo. It was never corrected. Argo had a distinct memory of when she transferred to school in Tokyo, a teacher who read her full name on some official document asked her if she was half Italian or half Spanish. She answered Italian of course.

Once Argo was born, her parents decided to buy a house in Kansai, Hyogo prefecture, where her mother would raise her and her father would take trains out to visit every weekend. This was the beginning of the end for their marriage. When Argo asked her father why they didn't all live together, he claimed that staying in the countryside was better for her mother's health and that he couldn't work his usual job from Kansai. Argo always spoke a little strangely when she was younger, even before she got her inflection. This was due to the mix of Russian and Japanese that was spoken at home. It was always Japanese when her mother was in a good mood and Russian when she was having one of her episodes. Even now, just hearing the language on TV made Argo flinch. Nobody ever directly told Argo what was wrong with her mother. The most her dad had ever bothered to try to explain was:

'She's developed a…It's like a sickness. She doesn't always think clearly.'

"Understatement of the fucking century." Argo muttered bitterly.

Inevitably, they divorced, and her dad gained full custody. Argo wasn't sure if was out of love for her or a sense of responsibility for her. Or maybe it was just an excuse to get rid of his defective wife who flipped from psychotic mania to complete normalcy in the blink of an eye. That was one of the few questions Argo didn't want an answer to. The divorce itself was a strange, quiet affair. It was agreed that her mother would get the house and their modest car, and if she was approved for disability checks, she wouldn't need anything else. Argo kept waiting for the hammer to fall, for a watershed moment where everything in Argo's life collapsed spectacularly. It didn't happen. Instead, they disassembled her life piece by piece, civilly, reasonably, and in complete accordance with Japanese law.

Argo grinded her teeth and focused on the street ahead of her. After a few seconds of walking, Argo stopped dead in her tracks. Something she was looking at was wrong. Argo tried to hone in on it. Nothing was moving except the power lines and tree branches that swayed from the wind. She scanned the rooftops for silhouettes, human or otherwise. Nothing there either. Her gaze lowered further. The area she was in was mostly small apartment buildings and the occasional little shop. Then she found it, the door to one of the apartments was wide open. Every other door Argo had seen so far was shut unless it was her who opened it. Argo crossed the street carefully, cringing at the sound of every pebble that she accidentally kicked.

It was possible the door just loaded wrong, but Argo got a feeling it didn't. She slowly and quietly crept up the steps, peeking through the entryway. Argo saw a large reception room, darker than any of the other buildings she'd been in due to how few windows it had. The power was off, as it was everywhere else, and there was only a front desk and a few waiting chairs. The reception room had a large, ugly, and perfectly vacuumed shag carpet, so perfectly vacuumed that the set of footprints that disturbed the fibers almost looked like smudges. They stopped outside the first doorway in the corridor to the left.

Argo hesitated as she passed through the entrance. She could so easily give up and continue down the road, probably with none the wiser. It was even possible that it could be some kind of trap set up by the JSDF to catch runaways. The fear that coiled in her gut quickly changed to self-loathing. She wouldn't run away again. She wouldn't. Argo crossed the room slowly, trying to retrace the path in the rug that the person before made, no point in leaving more evidence of her presence than strictly necessary. She was careful to avoid the peephole's field of vision and pressed her ear against the door, hearing only the same empty silence that hung over the rest of the city. After fifteen tense seconds, Argo decided she'd listened enough. Argo wrapped her hand around the door handle and checked if it was locked. It wasn't, the door's hinges didn't groan when Argo nudged it and still no sound could be heard from inside. Argo cracked the door open just enough to peek one eye through. It looked like a fairly typical western style apartment, with the tiny kitchen and living room conjoined, and a hallway to the right that presumably led to a bathroom and bedroom.

Argo pushed the door open a little more and squeezed herself through the doorway. Annoyingly, the telltale undisturbed shag carpet that allowed her to track the player silently was gone now, replaced by hardwood that would clack under Argo's heavy combat boots if she wasn't careful. Argo first glanced at the kitchen; no one there, no cabinets large enough to hide in, and no one in the living room. Argo crept down the hallway, both doors to the bathroom and bedroom were firmly shut. Argo wondered if there were any footprints leading out of the apartment that she didn't see, but decided she was too far along to step out and check. Argo pressed her ear against the bathroom door and waited ten seconds before opening it slowly. Even after she checked behind the shower curtain, she found nothing. That left one room. Argo's anxiety spiked as she stood outside the bedroom door. Listening in, Argo once again couldn't hear anything. She felt her pulse hammering in her throat. As she took a deep breath, an idea occurred to her.

Argo crossed the hallway and opened the bathroom door wide, making sure she had a good grip on the handle. Argo slammed the door shut with as much force as she could muster, making a sound like a gunshot in the confined space. Argo fought to keep her steps quiet as she crossed the room to hide behind the bedroom door. Argo's inventiveness was rewarded with the sudden squeak of bedsprings on the other side of the wall. Argo didn't need to press her head against the wall to hear the sound of uncertain footsteps in the adjacent room. Argo risked another deep breath, her heart rate now so fast that it was a significant possibility that she'd keel over from a heart attack long before whoever-it-was came to investigate. It took another thirty seconds for the doorknob to tentatively turn. Argo fervently hoped that they wouldn't throw the door open and crush her, but, luckily, the door only shifted a little, presumably so the player on the other side could peek down the hallway. It took conscious effort to keep Argo from grinding her teeth. Slowly, the crack widened, and Argo could see a tuft of green hair emerge from behind the door. Argo's blood froze as the head turned left, but apparently only to look at the bathroom door.

They hesitated for a moment, but spoke.

"Hello?"

A woman's voice. This eased Argo somewhat, as due to the target audience of the game, there were very few girls in WGO, and maybe she could use this to win some kind of favor with her. Argo was seriously tempted to answer, but given how she could just throw the door wide open and break Argo's nose even more, she decided to wait.

"I'm not armed?" She said, but her voice cracked and it sounded more like a question than an assurance. Argo found this an even better reason to stay silent.

The woman's patience seemed to finally wear out and she stepped into the hallway. Argo noticed two things about her: firstly, she was indeed unarmed, and secondly, she was wearing business clothes, a crumpled black suit jacket, low heels, and a fairly conservative skirt paired with black leggings. The girl took a tentative step forward, hopelessly trying to minimize noise with her blocky heels. It was possible she was some kind of forgotten test bed for a civilian AI, but in the Q and A videos about WGO that Argo had seen, the spokesman insisted there wouldn't be any civilian NPCs in-game, citing 'engine restraints' and how the game 'didn't need ethical baggage.' Argo was incredibly confused about who this woman was, but she didn't act like any AI she'd seen in VR. Argo considered her position and came to the conclusion that her best odds would be to take control of the situation. Argo raised her right leg and kicked the taller woman directly in the back of the knee.

"aAAH!"

Her scream was cut off as her jaw collided with the floor. Argo quickly descended on her, planting her knees on the woman's shoulders, grabbing her by the wrists. Argo fought to keep her balance on the woman's back as she bucked and flailed.

"Get off! Get off me!" She shouted, now trying to flip herself over. Argo responded by pinning the woman's hands together over her head and shifting her knees up to hold her arms to the floor. This freed up a hand to wrap around the woman's throat. She kicked at Argo's back uselessly with her free legs. The pinned woman froze as she heard a venomous whisper in her ear:

"I recommend you shut up and stay still if you don't wanna find out if Kayaba Akihiko was bluffing." Ironically, that too was a bluff, but the woman apparently bought it. She stopped resisting and felt the person on top of her shift her weight. "Alright." Argo began, "Do you have a name?"

The woman stared at the floor for a moment before responding.

"Rinko." The woman said.

"eh? Like the actress?"

Koujiro Rinko paused, trying to remember any actress she shared a name with.

"Who?" She asked. Argo snorted.

"Don't play dumb, you know who Rinko Kikuchi is. If you're going to make up a fake name, use something believable, like Sato."

"Rinko's my actual name though?"

"Suuure it is, Kikuchi-sama." Argo said, adding an ironic lilt to the 'sama' honorific. "Now tell me something: What the hell are you doing out here?" It was a very strategic question, because although Argo had no clue who the hell this player was, the player probably wouldn't have any way to know that. Besides, Argo didn't know where Rinko was supposed to be, but odds are it probably wasn't hiding in a random apartment in Seoul.

"Tell me your name first." Rinko demanded. Argo raised an eyebrow, mostly for her own benefit since Rinko was still firmly pinned to the floor.

"Sato." Argo said.

Rinko didn't respond to that, but asked another question.

"Is your voice alright? I don't mean to offend, but it sounds odd." It could have been an attempt to get into her good graces or get her to slip up and give away information about herself. But, the genuine tone of the question took Argo off guard, and she answered on instinct.

"Well, when someone's nose gets broken juuuust right, it can deform the nasal septal cartilage, which generally manifests at the end of my sentences." It was probably the most truthful thing she'd said to Rinko so far.

"It really is amazing that the Advanced Anatomy Medical System can account for something that subtle, isn't it?" Argo glared at the woman under her.

"Quit stalling and answer the question. What the hell are you doing here?"

Rinko stayed silent, still trying to answer that question herself. Argo did not have the patience for her prisoner's internal struggle and tightened her grip on Rinko's esophagus.

"I'll warn you Rinko, I'm not a patient person." Argo growled. Rinko drew a shallow breath and choked out the first thing that came to mind.

"I know he told me not to log on today!" Argo stopped squeezing, wondering why Rinko would think Argo knew who 'he' was and why she sounded like she was confessing a broken promise. This vague answer was hard to respond to, that is-if she wanted to continue pretending to know what was going on. Argo decided that it wasn't too risky to press for more information.

"Is that all?" Argo inquired.

"I didn't know he was going to do something like this! How could I! I can't do anything about it! He locked us out of admin privileges!"

Argo stared blankly at the back of Rinko's head. Rinko would have to be both ballsy and an incredible actor to make up a lie like this, and Argo's gut told her that Rinko wasn't either. Admin privileges were only afforded to Game Masters, and Kayaba Akihiko was probably the only one who could lock them out. So, that left Argo with two conclusions: She was speaking to one of the Game Masters, and 'he' might be Kayaba Akihiko. Rinko's body shook under Argo as she heaved terrified sobs. Guilt prickled at Argo's skin, quickly replaced by anger at herself for pushing Rinko too aggressively. Bit by bit, Rinko's muscles went limp and the sobbing stopped.

"Rinko?" No response. Argo tried lifting one of Rinko's arms and letting it drop. No response. Argo remembered reading about a 'Mental Distress Easement' program that took over your muscle function and forced you to calm down to prevent psychological trauma. Argo considered the possibility that Rinko was faking, so Argo would lower her guard. A solution to find out the truth quickly made itself apparent, as gross as it was. Argo lifted Rinko's head a little with her left hand and tentatively extended her right index finger towards Rinko's eye. Blinking was a natural reaction that was incredibly hard to suppress. Argo poked Rinko directly in the cornea and morbidly wondered which developer was unlucky enough to be saddled with the job of simulating what eyeball slime felt like on the human hand. Having…confirmed Rinko's paralysed state, Argo got up and walked into the bedroom.

The sheets were a mess, and pillows were strewn about the room randomly. Argo figured she had about a minute and a half before Rinko could get up. Argo worked fast, snatching up one of the sheets. Returning to the hallway, Argo tied the sheets around Rinko's wrists. It wasn't the most secure, but it would do for now. Argo sat down on Rinko's back while she slowly regained use of her muscles. She tried to turn her head to get a look at Argo, but couldn't quite achieve it.

"Okay, are you good now? Talk slower. Start at whatever you think is the beginning." Argo lightened her tone, trying to sound as neutral as possible. Rinko, however, was still not comforted.

"Am I getting arrested?" She asked. Not a terrible conclusion to come to, Argo thought, given what little Rinko knew.

"Not yet. I recommend you think up a good excuse for not immediately turning yourself in to the JSDF. Of course, that's for after I have your full story."

Argo let her index and middle fingers rest just next to Rinko's windpipe, in the groove where she could feel the pulse thrumming. It wasn't the most reliable way to detect a lie, but it was better than nothing. Rinko took a minute to collect herself, then began.

"M-my full name is Koujiro Rinko, I'm an Argus employee, and I was on the development team for this game."

"And I'm assuming you initially logged on using a Game Master account?"

"Yes, me and most of the other developers were using administrator accounts to look out for initial bugs for the first day patch, but Akihiko-san told me that I shouldn't-" Argo was satisfied to get confirmation that the person she was talking about earlier was indeed Kayaba, but still cut her off.

"We'll get to that later. For now, tell me, did you also work on the original JSDF combat simulator that WGO is based on?"

"No, I was assigned to a different project at that time. Can we sit down to discuss this? I'm not going to run and I'm more than a little uncomfortable in this position." If Argo let Rinko see her, then she'd know by Argo's default clothes that she wasn't in the JSDF, and that would alter their power dynamic irreparably, not to mention the odds she'd try to fight back or run away. Argo grinded her teeth and thought about the other option, if she kept Rinko on the ground too long, she might get suspicious. Argo decided to bite the bullet and keep Rinko there as long as possible.

"You'll be staying right here until backup arrives, so get comfy." At that, Rinko huffed into the floor.

"Of course."

"Did you ever see anything suspicious while working on the development team?" Argo started with a general question. She didn't expect to get anything specific or useful from it, but it was a good way to get a feel for her captive. The woman pinned under her squirmed and hesitated a full 15 seconds before she replied.

"No."

Her pulse quickened.

"Playing hardball, are we?" Argo challenged in a mocking tone. "You've already admitted to your boss telling you beforehand not to come to work on the most important day of the year for you, is that not considered suspicious? Did Kayaba Akihiko say this to any of the other developers? Or was it just you?"

"N-no! I meant nothing before today! Nothing happened before today!" To Argo, she sounded less like she was correcting herself and more like she was covering for something else. The bribe rumors seemed like a good place to start.

"Really?" Argo asked incredulously. "So you don't know anything about any bribes accepted by the Argus Corporation from the government of the Republic of Korea to make a Korean-based simulation so the military model of WGO could be sold to the ROK army without modification?"

"Korea was chosen because it's realistic that conflict would break out in the near future, adding to the immersion of the game, and also to not unsettle Japanese players with the thought of their homeland being invaded." The response was uncharacteristically cool headed for Rinko, neither confirming nor denying her knowledge of the subject, and when Argo checked, her heart rate barely increased. Rinko, as a relatively high ranking Argus employee, was probably coached beforehand on how to respond to questions like this. Argo wouldn't be deterred, though. An answer like this could turn away a nosy journalist, but she had considerably more physical and figurative leverage over Rinko.

"I'm assuming that's a no on whether or not you know anything about bribes?"

Her answer was less immediate this time.

"I don't know anything about bribes."

"Is that your final answer? Because when the investigation on Argus concludes and we find a single thing connecting that to you, it would mark you as a liar, and that, on top of your suspicious little conversation with Akihiko Kayaba just hours before he committed an act of terrorism, will probably mark you as a suspect." Argo paused for dramatic effect. "However, if you change your mind now, even if you are a suspect of something related later, your cooperation in the investigation will be noted."

"Okay." Rinko said in a small voice.

"Good. So you're going to cooperate now?" Argo used a patronizing tone, as if she was negotiating with a belligerent toddler instead of an accomplished software developer a decade older than her.

"Yes." Rinko replied. Argo wasted no time.

"What have you witnessed regarding the bribes?"

"N-nothing directly, but in the office, rumors started to circulate about Korean men who refused to identify themselves, walking into the building and taking the elevator straight to the board of directors."

Rinko's pulse picked up a little at this, but Argo attributed this to the fact that she was admitting to saying something that may get her into trouble.

"That's…something." Argo let the dissatisfaction show in her voice.

"There's more. When Akihiko-san first assembled the development team for WGO, he seemed angry about the setting for some reason."

"Do you think this was the root of Kayaba Akihiko's motive?" Argo asked, glad to be finally getting to the point of the interrogation.

"No, at least, I don't think so." Rinko's answers seemed to be less tense now, probably due to the adrenaline rush from their fight wearing off. Argo made her questions shorter and simpler in return, letting Rinko talk at length.

"Why's that?"

"Well, even before work started on WGO, he seemed agitated. He ranted to me about how Argus had no business working with the military. He was always fighting with the board of directors over it."

"This was before you were working together?"

"Yes."

"So you associated with Akihiko-san outside of work?"

Rinko was incredibly glad she was facedown on the floor, if only because Argo couldn't see her blush bright red.

"You…um…could say that. I first met him in college." A lie by omission. Argo misinterpreted Rinko's embarrassment as nervousness that Argo might be suspicious of her for being around Kayaba and quickly assured her.

"Relax. Nobody's going to send you to jail for getting drinks with a coworker."

"Right," Rinko said, relieved.

"So, our dear Akihiko-san was unhappy about working with the military?"

"Yes, as time went on when we worked together on WGO, he became more and more closed off."

"Was this issue exacerbated by the death of your coworker?"

"How do you know about Botan?" Rinko exclaimed. Argo grunted dismissively.

"I have a personal interest in full dive tech, and I read an article about it. Passed out drunk and drowned in a ditch. Terrible stuff." Truth rolled off Argo's tongue as easily as lies.

"He didn't drink."

"What?" Argo cocked her head at the blunt statement.

"Botan Tajima did not drink. His mom was an alcoholic and the smell of beer made him vomit."

Argo felt an uncharacteristic pang of sympathy that was quickly quashed by her excitement about the new possibilities this suggested.

"So…do you think his death was Kayaba Akihiko's first murder?"

"No! He wouldn't do that!" The statement was rather impassioned, as if she had some personal stake in this. Argo cocked her head at the woman under her.

"Right." Argo replied curtly. "Akihiko-san would never hurt a fly."

"I-I meant that he…he…"

As long as Rinko was cooperating there was no point in putting more pressure on her than strictly necessary. Argo definitely suspected something strange going on with Rinko's perception of Kayaba. But, on the other hand, if it was you who worked with the famous genius, wouldn't you be a little in love too?

"So if you don't think it was Akihiko-san who did it, and you don't believe the official story, then what?"

The question was mostly rhetorical, but Rinko had an answer nonetheless.

"A week before his death, a JSDF officer visited his office, and after that, he started to act strangely, saying somebody was following him home."

"The JSDF visited the Argus building?"

"Yes, it was fairly common during development. Mostly they visited the board of directors."

"Someone was following him home?"

"Yes, that's what he said, I told him that it was probably just nervous paranoia due to how tired and overworked we all were, but he insisted a black SUV followed him wherever he went."

Argo considered the possibility that this was just a red herring to distract her from asking about Kayaba, but her gut still insisted Rinko was being truthful.

"So what would the government have to gain from killing some random developer?"

"I…get the feeling Kayaba knew why, at the service for Tajima-san, he looked like he…well, like he knew."

"Kayaba?" Argo interjected, and felt the woman stiffen beneath her. Calling someone by their first name without any honorifics at all generally implies you are close to them, be they family, close friends, or romantic partners. Argo decided to take the initiative and press the issue.

"Let's talk about him. You met him in college, you both ended up working for the same company, you talked outside of work, and you call him 'Kayaba'. Now, when he's about to trap hundreds of thousands in WGO, he tries to get you out of harm's way." With these facts laid down, Argo gave Rinko a moment to think before continuing. "It isn't ridiculous to think you may have been aiding him, even unknowingly. Just tell me what you know, and you'll be okay." Argo was playing good cop now, Rinko was still stressed and Argo got the feeling a direct accusation would send her into another panic attack, which wouldn't do anyone any good.

"I've already said I'll comply." Rinko said.

"Alright, you said you didn't know anything beforehand, and I'm inclined to believe you. How could Kayaba Akihiko pull something like this off without anyone noticing?"

"Well, he was the head of the dev team. He was supposed to be overseeing us, not the other way around."

"But you must have seen something?"

"No! He must have hidden some code somewhere to disable the log out button, but I didn't see anything like that."

Argo didn't need to check Rinko's pulse to tell she wasn't lying, and heaved a disappointed sigh.

"Alright, let's get to the most immediately important question. Why didn't you turn yourself in?"

"I didn't know if…what might happen to me, I wasn't thinking."

This wasn't that interesting or useful to Argo, so she let it be.

"Why stay here specifically?"

"Well, the Korea Military Academy campus is just a dozen blocks away."

"Is there anything important there?"

"The Korean military NPCs are waiting for the war to start there."

"What? All of them?"

"No, only half of them. The other half are in Sokcho."

"So why go to them?"

"The NPCs have army rations on them, and there isn't any food anywhere else. Technically, you can't die from starvation in the game, but the hunger pangs aren't pleasant."

Argo agreed internally, but didn't say anything. If the NPCs at the military academy had MREs, they might have guns or vehicles Argo could use. That would expand her options greatly.

"Alright, they're here." Argo said. "Stay where you are, I'll be back in a minute or two."

"You're not bringing me with you?" Rinko asked, sounding concerned.

"You can handle a minute by yourself. Stay where you are."

Rinko had yet to catch a glimpse of Argo, and she intended to keep it that way, grabbing a pillowcase from the adjacent bedroom and stuffing it over Rinko's head, all while ignoring the barrage of increasingly confused questions. Rinko could probably slip the bed sheets tied around her wrists easily enough, so Argo figured that she didn't have to worry. Argo quickly left the apartment, breaking into a dead sprint when she exited the building. The moon was bright in the sky, so navigation wasn't an issue, and Argo was confident in her footing. She started running towards a complex of buildings she could see in the distance that looked university-like. When she crossed onto the street leading to the university, she knew she was in the right place. Argo had never seen the Terracotta Army before in person, but she figured the sight in front of her was more impressive. A literal sea of soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder, all perfectly still. It was a little mesmerizing to look at each soldier and see exactly the same blank expression on each face. The only noticeable differences between them were gender, height, facial structure, and the variety of weapons they carried. Argo approached the nearest one in the very first row.

The NPC wore digital woodland camouflage with a colorless ROK flag on its shoulder. Over that it had its helmet and flak vest, and its assault rifle hung limply from a sling around its neck. Out of curiosity, Argo tried holding it. The rifle was heavier than Argo anticipated, but still, she shouldered it. The sling forced Argo to be uncomfortably close to the A.I., and she almost expected it to reach out and grab her, demanding its weapon back, but when she glanced back at it, it remained a statue, eyes staring straight ahead. The only proof that it was 'alive' was the curling steam that exited its nostrils when it breathed out. Argo decided it wasn't worth hauling around a rifle, so she dropped it and looked for a pistol on the soldier's belt, to no avail.

After she came up empty, she searched for a more high ranking NPC. After a minute of looking, Argo spotted one with two rhombuses on the side of its uniform. Argo didn't quite know what this signified, but it was two rhombuses more than any other soldier in the line. Sure enough, a service pistol sat snugly in the officer's holster. Argo didn't recognize the model, she'd only bothered to research JSDF weapons beforehand in preparation for playing WGO. The thing almost looked like a shortened 1911. There was information about the manufacturer and caliber of the gun stamped onto the slide, but it was in Korean. Even if it was in perfect Japanese, Argo probably couldn't have made out the words in the moonlight. Argo figured this would do for now, took a spare magazine for it, and rifled through another NPC's rucksack for some MREs.

An unnatural noise echoed through the city, a rumbling sound. It took a moment for Argo to realize it was an engine. Argo waited for a moment before she heard it getting closer. Her blood turned to ice and she quickly looked around for a place to hide. Most of the buildings lining the street were storefronts that had their security gates closed, and by the time she could run to the other end of the street to the residential buildings, the car might catch a glimpse of her. After a moment's hesitation, Argo crawled into the tight space between two of the Korean soldiers, finally thankful for her small size. Argo had to navigate the tunnel of boots and loosely hanging rifles. The worst part of it was that each soldier's arms hung at their sides at the perfect angle, so that no matter how low Argo got, their knuckles would always brush against her back, making her skin crawl. After about nine meters of this, Argo paused to listen for the engine, and was terrified to hear it coming up the street towards her. She quickened her pace, no longer caring about the touch of the NPCs. Eventually, the engine came to an idle and Argo paused again, this time confident that she was too far away from the front to be seen. Headlights shone off the faces of soldiers above her. Just in case, Argo hid behind a particularly bulky soldier and waited. Argo heard the sound of a heavy door slamming shut, and then indistinct voices. The headlights shut off.

"Yeah, that's them. There's…a lot, actually." The voice was baritone and spoke fairly casually.

Another voice responded. Flashlights clicked on, piercing the darkness.

"Wow. I mean, yes, that's impressive, sir." This one was younger, reedier, definitely sounded less confident.

"Wait until you see how many our friends to the north have." The older one said.

"Well, not to sound uneager, sir, but I hope they get us out of here before I do."

"What? You joined the JSDF for an adventure, didn't you?"

"No, sir. I was promised benefits."

Raucous laughter echoed through the empty street.

"Damn." The older one said, still chuckling. "You're a funny one, Maeda-kun."

"T-thank you, sir?" The younger one replied, but it sounded more like a question.

"Come on, you can call me by name, we'll be at this for a while."

"Yes, Sasaki-sama."

"Mhm. We're suffering a critical lack of light machine guns and rocket launchers, and these guys don't mind sharing. So we just load them up and put them in the truck. It's not fun duty, but at least we aren't babysitting civilians anymore."

With that being said, they set to work, and Argo breathed a sigh of relief. They probably wouldn't go deep enough into the rows of soldiers to see her, and if she crawled deeper, she was risking bumping one of them, and if the JSDF soldiers saw one random NPC in the sea of NPCs swaying, it would catch their eye. There was also the added benefit of being able to listen in on their gossip. They spoke loudly, and the street was deadly silent, so it wasn't terribly difficult.

"So, Sasaki-sama, if we aren't gone by next Monday, what'll happen to all the NPCs that we're taking weapons away from?"

"Hell if I know. Maybe they'll try and kill the North Koreans with their bare fists. Either way, it isn't really our problem."

The conversation fizzled out, and the street was quiet for a few minutes.

"Sasaki-sama, this whole situation we're in, is this classified as a…terrorist attack?"

The sound of heavy weapons being hauled into a truck stopped for a moment as Sasaki paused to ponder this question.

"Well, technically, terrorism has to have a political purpose. If the rat bastard who put us here rattled off some speech with a list of justifications, it'd be terrorism, but instead he just announced what he did and fucked off. Of course, they'll probably call it terrorism anyways." Sasaki summarized his statement with an apathetic grunt. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I was just wondering." Maeda said lamely. Sasaki started talking again, mostly to himself, with Maeda making approving 'hmm' sounds whenever it seemed appropriate.

"Yeah, lemme tell you what's gonna happen: There's gonna be a whole big fervor over this shit, headlines every-goddamn-where blaring about the 'worst terror attack in history'. It's gonna be over in less than 48 hours, deaths only in the double digits, if at all. Our bitch asses are gonna be paid to sit in the barracks for the rest of the week and maybe the week after while our superiors get sacked for their incompetence in letting this happen, before they let us return to our regular jobs. To make themselves look better, whoever's left is gonna pin so many medals on anyone even vaguely involved with this civilian herding bullshit that they could levitate us with magnets. And because of the massive absence of leadership, anyone who looks like they have an IQ in the triple digits is gonna jump in rank."

"So you see this terrorist attack as a career boosting opportunity?" Maeda asked incredulously. Sasaki was gravely offended.

"Fuck no, who the hell do you think I am?" Sasaki scoffed at his subordinate's narrow mindedness. "I'm gonna get out of the JSDF as soon as I can, approach some fat ass studio exec in Kyoto, make up some bullshit about how much of a hero I was when I was here and get paid billions of yen for the rights to an overdramatic, shitty documentary about 'my harrowing experience'. Then I'm gonna buy a nice big house next to a mountain lake outside of some little nowhere town in Hosaka and spend the rest of my days fishing."

A moment of silence was shared between the men in awe of Sasaki's grand master plan.

"You've got it all figured out, don't you, Sasaki-sama?" Maeda said appreciatively.

"Fuck yes, I do." Sasaki responded graciously. More time passed with Argo only listening to the sounds of heavy ordinance being hauled.

"Hey, Sasaki-sama, this guy's missing his pistol." Argo's heart froze.

"What do you mean 'missing'?"

"It's just not there. Is that a bug or something?"

"Haven't heard of anything like that, but probably. Sounds like an issue for someone else to worry about." Sasaki grunted dismissively, and Argo could breathe again. "Also, Maeda-kun, is this your first time in the simulator?"

"No sir, after the initial phase of boot camp, the drill sergeants would have us do combat training with the simulators weekly."

"Huh. You know, I was a part of the test group evaluating the simulator before it was put into official service." This piqued Argo's interest.

"Really?"

"Yup, we were selected to play little combat tests. There wasn't any AAMS back then, so it felt pretty…" Sasaki trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Unrealistic?" Maeda offered.

"Yeah, that. It was pretty amazing for the time, you know, space age shit, but it sounds like it's fairly normal now, huh?"

"Yeah, it's been standard in basic training since the beginning of the year."

Once again, the conversation stagnated. Argo was tempted to dig into the MRE she'd stolen, but resisted. The quiet atmosphere went on for a minute and a half until Maeda found it unbearable.

"I don't like the way they look at me." He confided.

"They aren't looking at you, you just haven't slept since Sunday morning." Sasaki reassured him.

"Yeah, you're right. They still feel off though."

"Come on, Maeda-kun, what could possibly be creepy about the wall of meat mannequins?" Maeda didn't respond to that but still talked, possibly just for the purpose of making noise to diffuse the tense atmosphere. "This guy just won't give up his machine gun, the sling's stuck on his helmet."

"You're tipping him over." Sasaki warned.

"It's fine, it's fine," Maeda said. A few moments later, he ate his words as the machine gun came free and clattered against the street. "Oh shit." There was a second of silence. "Oh nevermind, the gun's fi-Fuck!"

Whatever this was sounded more serious than the previous curse, and Argo peeked out from behind the soldier she was behind to glance towards where she figured the JSDF soldiers were, and saw something terrifying. An NPC was leaning backwards, falling backwards actually, onto the two soldiers behind him. Those two soldiers fell on to three, three to six, six to eight, until it spiraled out of control. Argo's brain scrambled for some way to get out in time, but came up empty. Instead, she positioned herself under a soldier she was sure wasn't heavy enough to crush her and waited for the inevitable. If Argo had thought brushing against the soldiers was unpleasant, being surrounded on all sides was unbearable. On instinct, Argo played dead. She went stiff and stared at the sky, praying to whatever god was listening that they wouldn't see her. She could now directly see the glare of the flashlights, and she held her breath as one of them passed quickly over her face. Thankfully, for the moment, Argo went unnoticed, as the JSDF soldiers were too in awe of the magnitude of their own fuckup.

"Aren't they gonna…get up?" Maeda asked hopefully.

"I mean, superiors told us they weren't gonna move until the week's over. I guess they meant that literally." Sasaki stated neutrally.

"This is bad, I've messed it up!" Maeda said frantically, trying to control his panic. To Argo, he sounded like a guilty puppy. Sasaki was quick to assure his subordinate.

"It's fine, it's fine, none of them died, I think, and come Monday they'll be up and at 'em. Besides, look, it's petering out at the end of the street, they won't all get dominoed."

"So, we're going to have to report this to the base commander, right?"

"They're busy right now, they're not gonna care about something that might not even be an issue."

"So…they won't care?"

"Oh sure, maybe. I was thinking more about not telling them in the first place. No concrete way to prove it was us, and there's no way they're gonna launch a whole investigation over something this trivial."

"I-I guess." Maeda said sheepishly.

"See? All's well, let's just finish up and head back."

As the soldiers resumed their work, this time having to dig through the NPCs in order to find the guns, Argo was left to stare at the moon. As much as she hated it, she tried to discreetly dig herself deeper into the pile of bodies to hide. It was all for naught. One of the flashlights shined on Argo's face, and Sasaki spoke up.

"Have you ever heard of a blonde Korean?" Argo's mind went blank and she froze up.

"What?" Maeda yelled back.

"A blonde Korean, right there." Argo cursed herself furiously for not just choosing to have her hair black like most of the other players.

"She kind of looks like she's wearing one of our Self Defense Force work jackets." Maeda observed.

"No, she is!" Sasaki shouted, and Argo could hear the older JSDF trainer rushing across the field of bodies towards her. Argo probably couldn't get out from under the NPCs in time, and couldn't continue to play dead. In her panic, she considered drawing the pistol that she'd taken from the officer, but Argo was still calm enough to know that pointing a gun at a soldier was likely to get her killed. Argo discreetly wedged her pistol under the Korean next to her. Argo looked down to make eye contact with a man in his early middle ages who sported tanned skin and a regulation mustache, with a rifle hanging from the sling on his shoulder. His fatigues boasted a sergeant rank, while the other one looked like a private.

"Hello?" He said to her as his colleague raced to catch up. Argo didn't know how to reply, so she didn't. He crossed around behind her and hooked his arms under her armpits, heaving Argo to her feet, then checking her over for casualties. "She's okay, in shock maybe." Sasaki commented to his subordinate.

"What's a civilian doing all the way out here?" Maeda wheezed, still short of breath.

"Good question. What the hell are you doing here?" The question sounded less angry than bewildered. Argo opened her mouth, waiting for some clever lie to spring forth, but ended up gaping like a fish for a few seconds, then shutting it. Thankfully, Sasaki didn't look surprised. "Yep, seems like she's in mild shock, we'll have to wait a little while to get answers out of her."

"So, what are we going to do?"

"We're almost done, just sit with her in the truck with her and cool your heels while I finish loading up, we'll try asking again when we get on the road." After making sure Argo was okay to walk, they escorted her to the cab of the big truck and pulled her into the passenger's seat, with the younger one, Maeda, sitting in the driver's seat.

Argo worked over her options. She could run, but Argo wasn't convinced she could outrun either of them, and now they had both a description of her and a general location that she'd be in, making evasion almost impossible. Option number two was admitting to being a runaway, and probably being put on a tight leash until they could extract everyone from WGO. Argo silently raged at herself for every stupid decision that led up to this point. Maeda, oblivious to Argo's fury, awkwardly shifted in his seat. She could tell at a glance that he was uncomfortable around women, she'd brokered information with dozens like him. Usually, though, they were awkward teenagers, not awkward twenty-somethings. Maeda caught her staring, and she looked away, feeling his eyes on her afterwards. The tension in the air was unbearable. Usually, Argo was fairly good at diffusing uncomfortable atmospheres like this, but this time her skills fell short, and she resigned to sit and stare out the window at the other soldier carrying armloads of machine guns to the back of the truck.

Argo was just starting to calm down and get her head straight when something knocked twice on the passenger's side door. Argo was still staring directly at Sasaki as he gathered guns from the pile of NPCs. Argo's heart jumped into her throat, and she froze again. Maeda leaned forward a little, not sure if he heard something and similarly unsure if he should say something about it. He definitely saw that Argo looked more tense, and decided to speak up.

"Are, uh, you okay there?"

This snapped Argo out of her trance. She tentatively looked to her right, then downwards, to see a pale, freckled face with green hair looking up at her. Rinko knocked on the door again. Argo was in sheer panic for a moment before she remembered that Rinko didn't recognize her. Argo finally formed a rough plan in her head. She looked over at Maeda, who was sure he heard something this time, and pointed to the window. He got up in his seat and leaned over Argo to see what she was pointing at. He made eye contact with Rinko. They stared at each other for a moment. Argo's eyes flicked from one to the other. Maeda, for his part, was almost at the point of being too tired to care, but wasn't yet driven to the point of total apathy. Rinko, however, still had enough energy to be as confused as she wanted, and let it show on her face. After fifteen seconds, the spell was broken when Maeda decided to retreat back to his seat and open the driver's side door to yell for his superior.

"Sasaki! Another one!"

"Another what?" Sasaki asked irritably.

"Come and see." Maeda answered. When Sasaki did, he wasn't amused. Argo opened the passenger's side door so she could hear, but remained in her seat.

"What the everloving fuck?"

Rinko was quick to try and explain, not that it made the situation clearer in any way.

"Sato, if that is her actual name, left me at those apartments back there, and she told me that…" Rinko noticed the bewildered expression on the soldier's face and tried to clarify. "I mean, the woman who was with you and had an odd inflection, she-" Sasaki cut her off.

"We didn't come here with any woman, it was just us." He pointed to Argo, who gave her best 'deer in the headlights' look. "You mean her? We picked her up just a few minutes ago."

Rinko stared at Argo for a moment, frowning. Argo just looked like a player, not any kind of JSDF soldier.

"No…She said, well, she didn't say it directly, but she implied she was one of you."

"You're talking about this 'Sato' person?" Maeda asked, having gotten out of the truck by now.

"Yes, but she kind of implied it was a fake name?" Rinko said, looking more and more anxious by the second. She wasn't making a great case for herself, Argo thought, her assertions lacked any kind of authority due to how she second guessed everything that she knew for a fact.

"So, this woman claimed to be in the JSDF and implied that the name she gave you was fake." Sasaki deadpanned.

"Y-yes, she also said that she was waiting on backup to take me back to her superiors, and when I heard the engine, I assumed…"

"So why did she say she was out here, then?"

"I…um, I didn't ask."

"What do you mean you 'didn't ask'!?" Maeda exploded. Sasaki made a 'simmer down' gesture with his hand, and Maeda nodded apologetically.

"I-,well, after she pinned me to the floor and threatened to kill me or arrest me, I wasn't really thinking straight."

The two JSDF soldiers shared a look. Before this, it hadn't really struck home with Argo what she'd actually done. She'd been focused on the information, but now, hearing it out loud, Argo was sickened with herself.

"What did she, erm, want with you?" Maeda inquired politely.

"She was grilling me for information because I-...Well, I'm an Argus employee, and I was on the development team for WGO, and as of this morning, I was working as a Game Master."

"What did she want to know?"

"She first asked me about the Korean bribe rumors," Rinko began. The soldiers shared another look and didn't ask about it. Discussing topics like that openly was how straight-laced JSDF members mysteriously failed drug tests. Rinko continued obliviously. "Then she wanted to know about my…my association with Akihiko Kayaba." Maeda actually began to inquire about that, but Sasaki silenced him with a look that said 'not our problem'.

"So how'd you get out here?"

"Well, when I had my admin privileges taken away, I was checking for spawning errors with the ROK army here." They all turned to the soldiers that littered the ground. There were probably two thousand fallen soldiers in total.

"Um." Maeda began, "That was our fault-"

"Your fault." Sasaki corrected.

"My fault," Maeda admitted sheepishly, "but are they gonna be okay?"

"Yes, they should get up and get to their preassigned assigned posts before 12 PM Monday."

"Okay, good." Maeda breathed a sigh of relief.

"Can you get us a description of this person who assaulted you?" Sasaki asked.

"No, she attacked me from behind and I never caught a glimpse of her."

Maede mulled this over as the sickening feeling in Argo's gut worsened.

"You said her voice had a strange inflection?" The nausea mixed with her fear, making Argo dizzy. She couldn't stay silent forever, could she?

"Yes, her voice went funny at the end of her sentences. When I asked about it she said it was because her nose was broken and didn't heal correctly."

Could she? An idea struck Argo like lightning, and just in time as Sasaki turned to face Argo, and asked her:

"Have you seen anyone who could be this person?" Argo was shorter and frailer than Rinko, and Sasaki still thought Argo was recovering from shock, so the question was less about sightings, and more a gentle way of confirming that she wasn't the same woman as the one Rinko was talking about. Argo responded by making an X motion over her throat with both her hands, and trying to give a meaningful look. Nobody got it, so she tried again, this time silently mouthing words.

'Can't speak,' She mouthed slowly, so that they could read her lips. 'F…N…C' The soldiers seemed to understand the first part, but cocked their heads at the acronym. Rinko's eyes widened, and she turned to the soldiers.

"Full dive nonconformity!" She exclaimed. "It's when the diagnostics and connection setup on Nerve Gears fail in a way that causes one of the senses or bodily functions to fail, most commonly the eyes or the nerve endings. The Advanced Anatomy Medical System causes slightly higher rates of FNC due to the added complexity."

The soldiers were a little blindsided by the sudden lecture, but seemed to understand well enough.

"Okay, so she's mute due to the NerveGear being fucky?" Sasaki summarized. Rinko nodded. Sasaki laughed and turned to Maeda. "Boy, are we gonna have a story to tell those rookie officers at command when we get back."

"We're still gonna leave the domino thing out, right?" Maeda asked hopefully.

"God, no. Leaving out a little fuckup from a normal report is one thing, but all this is beyond our pay grade. We aren't about to fuge details on something that looks this important. They don't care anyways."

Maeda nodded tentatively and turned to Argo.

"Alright, your turn. How did you end up all the way out here?" Argo stared blankly for a few moments before Maeda realized his mistake.

"Oh…Right, yeah."

"There's a map and a pencil in the glove compartment." Sasaki said helpfully. "Just write small, that's all the paper we have." Argo opened the glove compartment and pulled out a large map of Seoul, with indecipherable little markings all over. She flipped it over to the blank backside, and found a little cartoon penis had already been drawn in one of the corners. Despite the situation, Argo didn't fail to be amused. She began composing her response in the opposite corner, adding in theatrical pauses here and there, occasionally glancing at the expectant soldiers, trying to convey a lack of confidence through body language.

'I didn't think that I could be useful due to how I am here, and I was scared, so I ran away.' Technically, it was mostly true, and Argo's cheeks burned at the amount of vulnerability she was exposing, even if it was just to mislead them. This worked to her advantage as she showed the paper to the three others. Argo deliberately turned her head to face away from them, but not enough that they wouldn't know she was blushing.

"It's okay, kid." Sasaki assured her. "Nobody's gonna blame you, it's a bad situation." His tone was genuine and kind, and Argo felt a pain in her stomach that wasn't a hunger pang, but instead felt like a knife had been plunged into her internals.

"Poor girl…" Rinko cooed, and the knife in Argo's gut gave a little twist. Rinko had done nothing wrong, and yet Argo had assaulted her, threatened her life, lied to her unrepentantly, and left her scared, alone, and tied up.

"I…uh, guess you could say I understand the feeling." Maeda said awkwardly, gesturing to the heap of Koreans down the street. He was trying to relate to her, get to her level and tell her it was alright. The sharp, painful sensation slowly morphed into a gradual burning one, and it was only then she understood the emotions they conveyed, shame and fear. Shame that she would do the things she had done tonight. Fear that she might do them again, or perhaps do even worse.

They didn't pressure Argo any further about her past after that, not even for her name or what happened to her dog tags. On the long drive back to the base, Sasaki let her ride in the front with him while Rinko and Maeda sat in the back. He didn't ask her anything when she choked back guilty tears, only placing a firm hand on her shoulder, eyes still focused on the road ahead.

"I know, kid, I know."

Strangely, this gesture made Argo grind her teeth, trying to manage her sudden anger. It took every ounce of self-control in her not to retort:'What the hell do you know about me?'

A/N: You know how sometimes in writing your characters kinda…get away from you? Yeah, this Argo was basically that. It still turned out fairly good in my opinion, just very different. As far as housekeeping stuff is concerned, due to circumstances, I'm probably gonna take a break from writing until about mid July, but if I can I'll start on the next chapter earlier. As far as Argo goes in the future, there's probably gonna be a chapter with her for every two with Kirito, but there'll be exceptions.