Castle Carnation
~Chapter 4~
Kirito slid to Diabel's side, a «medifoam» canister appearing in his hand. He held the spray can to Diabel's chest and emptied its contents, which aerosolized and then dissolved into the injured player, initiating a heal-over-time effect. Kirito was relieved to see the man's health recover, climbing out of the red zone.
Diabel sighed, closing his eyes briefly in relief. "Thank you," he said.
"What were you thinking?" Kirito demanded. "You recognized the shield, even. Were you-"
"Not my finest moment, to be sure." Diabel gripped his «M1911» and climbed back to his feet.
He turned his attention back to the fight. Their lines wavered, intimidated by the pounding steps «Illfang» made towards them. Diabel quickly took charge again. "Don't panic. Squad A, hold him off as best you can without firing! D squad, prepare to switch in! Beta testers, get ready to fire! When I give the signal, take your best shots! We need to knock out his bracers!"
Beta testers? Kirito understood. Diabel would rely on the experience (and, hopefully, accuracy) of the ex-beta testers to try and pick off the shield generator bands.
Asuna stepped next to him. "Are they all going to try that?" she asked him.
Were beta testers the most qualified to be attempting those shots? Kirito looked around and saw several of them nervously aiming pistols and submachine guns. They might have been in the beta, but they aren't experts. This could be bad... If he were to trust one person here to be able to hit the generators, it wouldn't be one of them. It would be-
"Asuna," he said. "Do you think you could do it? Hit those arm bands?"
"Me?"
«Illfang» swiped at Squad A, pushing them back like leaves. One member of squad D lost his cool, lifted his shotgun and fired. The spread of pellets bounced back, pummeling him. Squad A scrambled to heal him and hold formation.
"Fire!" Diabel commanded.
A chain of cracks pierced the air as their designated beta testers fired. Bullets whizzed by the bracers, but the boss's arms were constantly in motion. No shooter scored a direct hit, and two of the pistolers bounced their shots off the barrier and chipped at their own health.
"He's moving too fast!" one of them shouted, their voice panicked.
"We can do this," Diabel reassured. "Squad D, switch! Recover and prepare a second volley! Squad B, prepare to move up!"
D squad bravely moved to take A's place, but with shooting off limits, they couldn't do much more than be meatshields. «Illfang»'s talwar swatted again, knocking aside another pair of players.
Their health is getting low, Kirito realized. We don't have time for careful volleys.
"Asuna!" he called, gripping his «MP18» tighter. "Can you do it or not?"
She hesitated, and then nodded. "I'll try my best!"
"OK!" Kirito said. "I'll get his attention. He'll have to pull his sword back. Fire when it's all the way behind him, the moment his arm stops moving!"
"Understood!" Asuna flipped her hood back to ensure her view was unrestricted, though her red cloak remained hung over her shoulders. Revealed for the first time was her flowing light chestnut hair, matching the fierce orange of her irises. She took a shooting stance and shouldered her «Winchester». "Ready!"
Kirito ran forwards past the scattered line of squad D, firing his SMG from his hip, directing the bullets at the ground around «Illfang». The beast roared and turned towards him, lifting the talwar up for an overhand strike.
Yellow flared behind Kirito, and he saw the sword arm's bracer splinter apart. The light pink field around the beast flickered, but did not go out.
And then the sword came down at him. He dove to the right, but the boss twisted its wrist, keeping Kirito in the blade's path. It cut a diagonal red streak into his chest and knocked him to the floor. He tried hopping his feet, but found he couldn't move his legs; a small parallelogram icon had appeared next to his health bar, displaying a trio of swirling stars: the «stun» effect, disabling all lower body movement and drastically lowering accuracy with all weapons. He gritted his teeth, holding the «MP18» across his chest to try and physically block the talwar as it came down towards him again.
The blade clashed against the steel of the gun barrel, sending out an unrealistically voluminous spray of sparks. Kirito felt his strength stat strained, and knew his weapon's durability was taking a drastic hit. Guns were not made to block swords.
«Illfang» pushed the talwar down harder, lifting his other arm high up into the air and holding it stationary. Out of the corner of Kirito's vision, there was another yellow flash, and Kirito saw the second wristband crumple off, white crystals disintegrating into blue fragments.
She did it! "The shield is down!" he heard Diabel announce. "Everyone fire!"
Then the talwar sheared through his trusty «MP18» and sank into his chest. Kirito felt the impact and then nothing more as the black of unconsciousness claimed him.
~Launch Day: City Rho.~
Asada Shino stared at her hand.
She walked alone, absent-minded, her simple leather shoes clinking on coppery brick of the unfamiliar city.
"«Castle Carnation» is no longer a simple game. It is... a second reality. This game no longer contains any method to revive players. If your HP reaches zero... the NerveGear will destroy your brain."
Second reality.
She stares into the mirror. Black eyes look back.
Where are my glasses?
Away from the noise, the expletives being shouted in the plaza, her feet carried her further, down streets, around corners, through alleyways. She didn't know where she was going. She didn't even know who she was. She passed under an overhang, down a set of stairs. The walls vanished. The floor vanished. Her hand vanished.
Asada Shino disappeared into the shadows.
Who am I?
Something stood out from the darkness, two faint red lights: A pair of elliptical eyes. From their direction, a malicious growl spewed forth.
She noticed that the area name, «Rho Upper Catacombs», was displayed in the bottom left of her vision. She blankly took note of its color: a warm red.
The system chose a color based on the area's difficulty and the level of the player viewing it. White meant a safe zone. Pink meant trivial. Red ranged from manageable to difficult. Purple, meant, in a normal MMO, a risky challenge; here, only the most foolish took it as anything other than 'avoid at all costs.' Darker shades of crimson marked areas the system considered impossible. Players referred to this color coding as «con», short for 'consideration of difficulty': this area would be called «red-con».
Who am I now?
Who is Sinon?
Sinon. Sine. Non. Sinon is not a color. Sinon is not a hairstyle. Sinon is not a face. Sinon is an idea. Sinon is a motive. Sinon is a means to an end.
I am not Asada Shino.
A bright yellow flash overpowered the glow of the eyes. The sound of the gunshot reverberated through the cramped corridors.
The girl didn't see herself take the gun from its holster. She didn't even really feel it.
What is a gun? Are guns tools, tools for killing? Or is a gun a symbol for something deeper than that, a symbol of agency, a representation of the power of the individual? Is the gun really a weapon, or is it more than that: is it an extension of the self?
Asada Shino would say no, that a gun is a tool, whose only function is to cause terror, to cause pain. Sinon, on the other hand...
The gun is part of the person. It is not a mere firearm. It is your will. It is your power. It is you.
Sinon walked onwards, deeper into the dark, not caring when she descended a second staircase, and her area indicator shifted to read «Rho Lower Catacombs», colored a sickly dark red.
"Hey! You six! Stop where you're going!"
'Them six' went by the names of Issin, Harry One, Dale, Dynamm, Kunimittz, and Klein. Swift as the wind, orderly as the forest, fierce as the fire, unshakable as the mountain: 風林火山. Fuurinkazan. Klein put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow at the lone figure that stood before them. "I know you. You were the one shouting nonsense in the square yesterday. Kibaou, right? What do you want?"
The man with the spiky hair crossed his arms and leaned forwards. "You guys look like you're doing pretty well for yourselves. But since you're just hanging around like this, I don't think you're them," he spat, "beaters. What do you say about joining my cause?"
«Beater»: A term Kibaou had explained yesterday in his inflammatory speech, a portmanteau of «beta tester» and «cheater». It wasn't entirely his own invention; many inhabitants of Rho had taken to using the term in the past few days. As far as Klein knew, not a single beta tester had offered any information about their new surroundings, or had even just admitted to having been in the beta. They were all silent, and, as a result, a majority of players now considered them dirty and selfish: cheaters using their prior knowledge to gain an edge over the rest of them.
Klein frowned at him. "Look, buddy. I understand why you're mad at the beta testers, but if you'd been in the beta, I'd bet you'd be using all your knowledge to help yourself... Your «Aincrad Liberation Force» idea is a good one, but Fuurinkazan is its own clan. Thanks for the offer, but we'll go our own way."
Kibaou was lowered his head and groveled at them. "I see. But keep this in mind: I've talked to several people who I know are beta testers. None of the will admit it, but I know. They're murderers, you see. By taking all the good hunting grounds, all the best loot, they left the rest of us behind. The five hundred deaths so far are on their heads."
"Not entirely," Klein rebuked. He admitted it was unkind of the experienced players to withhold information, but he could understand their perspective. The malign feelings that Kibaou had stirred up with his rant the day before certainly wouldn't encourage them to share. "Now, if you'd please let us pass..."
"Right," Kibaou said gruffly, standing aside. "Remember what I've said. You can't trust 'em, them dirty beaters."
They brushed past him. "Is that guy serious?" Kunimittz asked. "It's like he's about to start a witch hunt or something."
"And we'll have no part of it," Klein answered. "Let's just get a move on. Dale, you have the papers that we got from that last quest, right?"
"Yup," the man said, passing Klein several wrinkled yellow sheets. "Here you go, Leader."
Klein examined the parchment. "These maps are pretty detailed. Shows the entrance location, and a general layout for the entire first floor... there's supposedly a second level, though, that isn't mapped. First floor map shows a staircase leading down."
"So there's an entire dungeon, right under there? How come no one's found it until now?"
A week had passed since their sudden transposition to «City Rho». Kirito was nowhere to be found, and was missing from Klein's friends list, but Klein clung to the hope that somewhere he might be alive. He'd been a beta tester, after all.
"It's one shady staircase in the entirety of the city. Plus, it's an unlit dungeon. These torch items," Klein said, extracting one from his inventory and tossing it to Issin, "are from a quest that hardly anyone else did. If we're lucky we're the first ones to raid this place."
Following the NPC's instructions to the letter, the squad of six weaved through the compact orange streets of «City Rho», and soon found themselves face to face with the descending steps.
Klein materialized another torch, retaining his grip on his shotgun with his right hand.
"Alright. We should probably keep more than one torch out. They burn forever but we might drop them or break them somehow. I'll take one, and, ah, Issin, you take the other for now. We'll switch torch carriers at some point." He deliberately tapped the torch at its base. A white circle appeared for half a second as the system recognized the item activation, and then the top of the torch erupted with illuminating flame.
"Fuurinkazan, let's go!"
More than an hour later, they hit the bottom of the second staircase, and the words in the corners of their views shifted.
«Rho Lower Catacombs»
"Purple-con," Klein noticed instantly. "No unnecessary risks. Let's turn back."
"Wait, Klein," Issin interjected, lifting his torch higher. The antechamber was oblong, extending out into a foyer of some sort. At its end was a doorway, and, beside it, a familiar rectangular container with a slightly curved lid.
"There's a chest right there, other side of the room. Maybe we should snag it before we go."
Klein nodded. Loot from a purple-con area could be valuable to them. "Okay. Just this one room though. We get it and get out. And be careful, please."
"This room's empty," Dynamm pointed out. "We'll be fine as long as we don't step through that doorway and trigger spawns." Issin set down his torch, stowed his «Winchester» rifle on his back, and reached down to crack open the container...
And behind them, a grinding noise arose. Klein whirled around to see vertical iron bars descending to block their only exit.
"Damn!" He dropped his «Remington» shotgun, threw aside his torch, and sprinted forwards, ramming his shoulder into the bars. They forced him back, lighting up with a patchwork of purple hexagons labeled with the «immortal object» tag.
"Nice going, Issin," Kunimittz grumbled.
"Sorry," Issin said. "It's not like I knew what would happen..."
"Right," Klein said, reaching down to retrieve his weapon. "Not your fault. Doesn't look like those bars are budging, but the game wouldn't just lock us in here forever. I'm guessing there's another exit if we push onwards."
"But Leader, it's a purple-con zone," protested Harry One, clutching his «M1 Carbine» tightly.
Klein sighed. "I don't like it, but unless you just want to rot here forever, moving on is our only option. Issin, what's in that chest?"
Issin flipped the hinged lid fully open, and his eyes widened. "Take a look..."
Within, propped horizontally on its bipod and stock, was a massive rifle. Its barrel and bolt-action system were colored a sleek gunmetal gray. On its end was the blocky metal frame of a muzzle brake. Atop was an hourglass-shaped 10x magnification optical sight. Its stock and trigger contrasted with a finish of sleek tan wood.
"That is..." Issin started.
"...a hell of a gun." Klein finished. He tapped it, bringing up its item status window. "«PGM Hécate II»," he read. "Anti-materiel rifle. Bolt action. 12.7x99mm ammunition. Weight, 14 kilos... Required «STR» to wield..." He blinked. "Hey, Dale, out of all of us, you've got the most points allocated to strength, right?"
The plump man thumped his chest. "Damn straight, Leader! Armor bonuses put me at twenty-five."
"Freaking..." Klein growled. "«STR» requirement is sixty. Ah well. You weren't planning on going the sniper route anyways, right, Dale?" The man nodded.
When players leveled up, they could choose to increase either their strength or their dexterity, abbreviated «STR» and «DEX». Strength points increased one's maximum carry weight, made holding heavier items feel easier, and granted better control over recoil: aim reticules would expand less after shots. Dexterity points granted faster movement speed, sped up auto-reloads, and improved first-shot accuracy for most weapons: aim reticules would shrink to a smaller minimum size.
Additionally, strength boosted overall accuracy with what the system considered «power weapons»: shotguns, light machine guns, and other high-caliber firearms, whereas dexterity gave a similar boost to «precision weapons»: rifles, sniper weapons, and the like. Some weapons like anti-materiel rifles fit into both categories, receiving both accuracy boosts. Others, like SMGs, received neither, which served to balance out their early-game high rate of fire.
Naturally, no numerical accuracy bonuses affected «Focus Fire». The strength stat was considered the only one to affect «Focus Fire» ability in any way, as higher strength made heavy weapons easier to hold.
Furthermore, some high-tier weapons, like the «Hécate», had strength requirements. A player not meeting the requirements could still carry and fire the weapon, but would receive no numerical bonuses from stats or skills. This meant its damage would be minimal and its accuracy abysmal.
"Hmm," Klein mused, storing the rifle in his inventory. "Even so... we could still get some use out of it, no? We'll have to find an appraiser to look at it. I wonder what its damage stats are like..."
He shrugged. "Well, doesn't matter. Let's get going. Harry, take my torch. Issin, peek for us. What's in there?"
Issin leaned through the door, holding out his torch. "Big place... buncha columns... a big shiny sculpture in the center of em... there's this lump of something just a few feet in. Can't tell what it is."
"Okay," Klein said, readying his shotgun. "Move in, guys. Remember, it's a purple area. Be ready for anything."
The six of them stormed through the doorway, spreading out in the room beyond: an enormous round chamber. The ceiling was curved in a dome, supported by six thick stone pillars evenly spaced around the room's center. Between them was a huge structure of chrome silver metal. Klein couldn't quite tell what it was supposed to represent, but it had an organic shape. Chrome appendages extended from a central body, a curved bulk with a surface made of overlapping chrome sheets, like shingles on a roof.
The lump of something that Issin had been unable to identify was now plainly visible: the form of a girl, lying unconscious on her side. Her hair was jet black, and she wore a plain green tunic and simple brown leggings. A pistol was in her hand, and a green cursor floated over her head.
"A player?" Kunimittz wondered. "What are they doing? How'd they get in here ahead of us?"
Klein reached her and knelt by her side. "Hey," he said, shaking her shoulder. "You alright?"
"Wuh," she mumbled, refusing to open her eyes. "Ugh..."
Dale gave her a once-over. "Cloth armor and a «Glock 19»," he assessed. "Starting equipment. Definitely not equipped for this place. And... she's a girl."
"Very observant. You get a gold star for that one, Dale. Hey," Klein said, slightly louder. "Wakey wakey. Purple-con... What a place to be taking a nap..."
Her eyes opened slowly. "Sine..." she murmured. "sine... qua..."
"Uh, what's that?"
She bolted upright, her irises flicking side to side rapidly. "What," she said, her hold on her pistol visibly tightening. "Who are you?"
"Name's Klein," he replied, as cheerfully as he could manage. "This plump fella goes by Dale, and those four there are the marksman Issin, prospective machine-gunner Harry, dedicated pistoler Dynamm, and angry old Kunimittz. Sorry if we disturbed you."
Her free hand rubbed at her eyes. "Disturbed? Me?"
She continued to stare blankly at Klein, as if waiting for an answer. He wasn't sure what she was asking. "Uh... yeah. We didn't think anyone had gone into this dungeon yet. This is a dangerous area. We were just about to leave when-Wait, you got all the way in here without triggering the trap? That means..."
"Trap?"
Klein nervously scratched his rough hair. "Uh. Well, you see, we may have, uh, sealed ourselves in here by opening a chest..."
"...sealed?" the girl said.
Harry One found a wall-mounted torch bracket and dropped Klein's flame into it. In a scripted sequence, corresponding torches on each of the six pillars lit up as well. The lighting of the brackets immediately boosted the gamma levels in the room.
Issin, Dynamm, and Kunimittz stepped past the pillars, closer to the central structure, now visible in much greater detail. The metallic extensions were segmented, their sections linked with round metal joints. Klein noticed now that the some of the appendages were different. The one closest to them was rather plain, a stubby, yet still segmented piece of metal resting on the floor like a tripod leg. But one appendage extending from the top of the central bulk was much larger, suspending broad sheets of overlapping metal similar to the central body's coating up in the air, like some kind of wing...
Wait, Klein thought. Wing? Oh, crap...
The metal structure groaned, and then suddenly every little articulated part burst into motion. The wing bent inwards. The stubby leg lifted itself. A third appendage, with a whirring of motors, lifted itself above the central body; the intricate metalwork on its end unmistakably depicted triangular eyes, an elongated snout, and rows of sharp teeth. Between them was not a tongue; instead, peeking out were six ominous steel tubes, linked in a circular sheath: the business end of an iconic «GE M134 Minigun», a death machine capable of spewing, when running at full speed, a hundred rifle-caliber projectiles in a second, built directly into the anatomy of the creature.
Above the metallic beast, a purple cursor appeared, followed immediately by ten curved HP bars, and then by the creature's name: «Mk1 Mechanical Dragon Guardian».
"That's inaccurate," Dale noted as the six barrels in the beast's mouth began to spin up. "Dragons have four legs. Two legs and two wings is technically a wyvern-"
"SHUT IT AND TAKE COVER!" Klein ordered. Issin, Dynamm and Kunimittz scrambled out of the central area and back behind one of the columns. Klein gave the girl a light shove, and she quickly got to her feet. She, Klein, Dale and Harry dove behind the neighboring column, just as a buzz-roar of gunfire erupted and a hail of 7.62x51mm bullets hosed where they'd been standing.
The dragon stepped towards them on its surprisingly dexterous legs, the slow flaps of its massive wings sending gusts through the circular chamber.
"Why would it activate right now?" Kunimittz shouted angrily. "Hasn't she been in this room awhile already?"
"Probably because Harry lit those torches," Dale guessed. "Light-sensitive, maybe."
"So," Klein said, cradling his shotgun. Bullets continued to ricochet off the coppery floor beside them, the stream of impacts slowly digging a divot. "Didn't catch your name, miss..."
"Shi... Sinon. That's it. Sinon."
"Well, Sinon. Looks like we've gotten ourselves into a bit of an impromptu boss fight here. I know it's kind of our fault, but everyone's gotta pull a bit of weight, but I don't want anyone dying. May I ask what level you are?"
"I haven't... um... level fifteen, now."
"Seriously?" Klein himself was only level twelve. Fuurinkazan's average level was closer to eleven. "You're wearing starting equipment. Is there some reason for that, or..."
Dynamm leaned out from his pillar, taking potshots at the dragon with a «Mauser C96» —semi-automatic, firing relatively powerful cartridges out of a 10 round magazine—a high quality pistol for their tier. But the ten rounds in total barely made a dent in the dragon's top HP bar, and Dynamm had to retreat back into cover as the stream of minigun fire was turned towards him.
"Leader, this isn't really the time to be sharing life stories!" Kunimittz pointed out. "We need a strategy!"
Klein nodded. "Okay. Let's think about this. The minigun is powerful, but because it's in his mouth, its aim is restricted by how fast he can turn. His «aggro» seems to go to whoever last attacked him. If we take turns peeking and firing, we can get in free shots. Got it, everyone?"
There was a chorus of 'aye's from the men, and Sinon gave a slight nod.
Ten minutes later, the boss still had nine health bars left. And they were nearly out of ammunition.
"This may be a problem," Dale observed.
"What's everyone's ammo count?" Klein asked.
"Last magazine."
"Two shells left."
"I'm out."
"Fewer rounds left than Dale's had girlfriends."
"Same here-wait, what's that supposed to mean?"
Sinon just wordlessly shook her head.
"Not good," Klein summarized. "At this rate..."
"Hey, Leader," Issin said. "What about that big rifle that was in that chest? It's pretty darn convenient for that thing to be placed just before a boss like this."
"Hmm." Klein summoned the «PGM Hécate II», his knees bending slightly from its weight. "According to its status window, it's loaded. Seven rounds in its magazine."
He peeked around the pillar. The minigun was suppressing the other pillar, so Klein aimed the rifle as well as he could. The green circle in his vision was massive, but so was his target. He planted his feet, made sure the gun was firm on his shoulder, and fired. Even so, the recoil sent him stumbling backwards.
The plainly-fired round exploded outwards, exhaust gases directed outwards from the box of the Hecate's muzzle brake. It impacted the dragon in its abdomen, digging a red pixilated scar in its armor and cutting a third off of its ninth health bar. Instantly, the dragon abandoned its previous target and turned on Klein, driving him back behind the pillar with Sinon.
"Good hit, Leader!" Harry One said. It was indeed more damage than any of their other weapons had managed to do in a single shot: impressive, especially given that Klein had neither the skill points for its weapon class nor the strength point allocation for its effective equipping.
But still... "It's not good enough," Dale realized. "We're all out, and that gun only has six bullets left. Try «Focus Fire»? It's listed as anti-materiel; maybe it can punch through the wyvern's armor."
Klein scratched his chin, shoving back the «Hécate»'s bolt to eject the spent casing. "Okay. Someone over there on the other pillar, get his attention!"
"Last bullet!" Issin warned, leaning and firing with his «Winchester» rifle. The bullet plinked against the dragon's neck, and the minigun rotated away from Klein to spray in Issin's direction.
Ramming the bolt forwards again to load a new round, Klein stepped out from his pillar once more. He took a deep breath and held it, tensing his muscles, focusing intently on the bulky weapon in his hands... and nothing happened. After a few seconds, the dragon noticed him standing there and dropped its «aggro» on Issin, twisting its neck back around towards Klein, who ducked back into cover.
"Damn," he said. "I tried, but no good. It felt... harder, somehow. Dale, any idea why?"
Dale shrugged. "I dunno. I hear that the bigger a gun is, the harder it is to do «Focus Fire» with it. You know how sometimes when you do it you get that feeling like you know exactly how the gun's working, what parts are moving and whatnot? There's some rumor that you gotta think about that stuff too while you do it... but that's basically BS; there's no way a NerveGear could check something that detailed. None of us are really able to do «Focus Fire» too well anyways. Dynamm's been practicing, but he only managed it twice after like an hour of trying... Klein, when's the last time you've tried?"
"Tried? I tried two minutes ago with my shotgun, but yeah, that didn't go so well. Last time I actually did it was... yesterday, actually, on a field mob with my pistol. You think there's really truth to bigger guns being harder to «Focus Fire»?"
"It makes sense for balance reasons," Dale said. "Snipers would be really overpowered otherwise. That's probably also why we haven't seen any actual sniper rifle weapons yet. Some are saying snipers aren't in the game at all, but I'm betting they're all on deeper floors. The devs probably expect that we'll be more proficient with «Focus Fire» by the time we run into them. Look at this boss's health, for instance. We're definitely not supposed to be here at our level..."
"More proficient?"
"Yeah. Not like with skill points, just becoming better at it with practice, maybe like getting better at concentrating..."
"What did I say," Kunimittz groveled from behind his pillar, "about sharing life stories while we're fighting a fucking robot dragon?"
"Wyvern," Dale corrected.
"God damn it, Dale. It looks like a dragon, walks like a dragon, spits metaphorical fire like a dragon, and it's fucking named a dragon by the game. I'm calling it a dragon."
"Well, you're wrong. And what part of a fruitful discussion about «Focus Fire» do you consider 'sharing life stories'? If we don't figure out a way to take down this wyvern, we'll be stuck in here for the foreseeable-"
"Let me try," interrupted the soft voice of Sinon.
"You?" Dale asked. "Miss, I don't think you get it. It takes concentration to make «Focus Fire» work-"
"Dale, stop being sexist," Klein said, offering the gun to her with both hands. "She's level fifteen, after all."
She nearly dropped it at first, but once she got a feel for its weight, she could handle it, as far as Klein could tell, at least as well as he could.
Without any further warning, she sprinted out of cover. The minigun was still aimed in their general direction, and the dragon's head turned, dragging the stream of lead after her. But before the bullets reached her, she stopped on her heels, shifted her weight forwards, gazed into the scope for half a second, and then fired. The «Hécate» whited out the entire room with its radiance, far brighter than a muzzle flash. A horrid crunching sound like a car being crushed filled the air.
It took Klein a second to figure out what had happened. The six-barreled death machine imbedded in the dragon's maw had been struck dead-on, punching out several of the barrels, causing the imbalanced centrifugal force of its spinning to fling the mechanism apart. The dragon flapped its massive sheet-metal wings in rage, spewing torn scrap metal from its jaws.
Sinon wasn't finished. Her second shot, also in «Focus Fire», smashed the joint where the dragon's left wing linked to its body. The wing crumpled, and without any ability to lift its left side, the dragon's body hit the ground as well. It bent its head up, turning it towards her, but she fired a third blinding shot into a joint low on its neck, sending the head of the beast down as well.
When all was done, the dragon had just four health bars remaining, and, apart from the whirring of a non-functional minigun and lame flapping of its remaining wing, it was completely immobilized.
Klein ran up beside her. "Holy. Hell. Sinon. That was amazing. Are your strength stats high enough to get bonuses for that thing? Have you trained the «skill» for it? Wait, no, that's not possible, there haven't been any sniper weapons available yet... Sinon?"
She was staring into the cold chrome of the dragon's side, intently examining her reflection, looking at herself for the first time in a week.
Who am I, again?
In the flickering torchlight, she saw that reserved face of Asada Shino, that poor, sick high-schooler, incomplete without her glasses. What did I just do?
A rush of pain like a migraine swept over her. She clutched her head and dropped to her knees. Who am I...
Klein set down his gun and crouched down. "Hey... it's okay... you must have been through a lot before we came down here. We're all fine now."
She reached out a hand for her reflection in the chrome. "No," she whispered, tears falling from her eyes. "Me... I don't even know who I am..."
Klein was puzzled. "...don't know who you are? Do you have amnesia?"
"Amnesia?" she murmured. "I wish. Wouldn't that be... convenient..."
Klein wasn't sure what to do. He tried comforting her, reaching out to hug her, but she shoved him away and stood again.
Not only did she stand, but she stood holding the «PGM Hécate II», with which she had just proved she had impossible proficiency, and aimed it waveringly in Klein's direction. He held up his hands and took a worried step back.
"WOULDN'T IT BE CONVENIENT!?" she shouted at the top of her lungs. She turned the gun on the reflective shell of the mechanical dragon. As her next words were screamed out, she unleashed the remaining rounds in the «Hécate», each one causing a stifling sunburst of yellow. "IF I WASN'T... HALF... BROKEN!"
The end of the «Hécate» hissed with smoke. Sinon planted the butt of the gun on the floor and slowly sank back to a sitting position, breathing heavily. Placed vertically beside her, the weapon's size was apparent; the gun was nearly as tall as she was. The chrome side of the dragon remained, just barely, as the dragon's final HP bar showed a sliver of red.
"Broken..." she whispered. "I'm... broken... who... am I..."
Klein carefully approached her. The rest of Fuurinkazan, understandably spooked, stayed a good distance back. "Hey," he said. "Look. I can't claim to understand what you're going through. I don't know if it happened before you got stuck in here, or if it happened just in this week... hell, I probably shouldn't even be saying stuff like that, making you think of it, whatever it is. But that, just now, was the most perfect shooting I've ever seen. Sinon, you just probably saved the lot of us. You're not broken."
"I'm not me," she said. "Sinon... Sinon is not me. Sinon exists to repair me."
Klein pulled out his «Glock 19», its magazine containing a single leftover bullet. He held it out to her, grip first. "But you are Sinon, Sinon. If Sinon exists to repair you, then make her exist. Don't let whatever broke you win."
She again looked at her reflection in the chrome. Black eyes looked back at her.
It's a shame, Sinon. Blue really suited you better. But it'll do.
She accepted the offered pistol, turned it at the chrome and fired. The final slice of the defeated boss's health vanished, and blue particles rushed around them as the model—and her reflection—shattered into nothing.
Back behind them, in the antechamber through which they had entered, invulnerable iron bars lifted, granting them the exit they desired.
In the dark loneliness of an immense computational void, a girl with a soul of morning dew felt a pain in her heart slightly fade, and wiped away her tears, ceasing her crying, at least for a short little while.
Kirito woke and found himself standing, his neck bent back, giving him a clear view of a perfectly white sky.
Looking down, he saw his legs, but not his feet, for he stood in the center of a circular patch of ankle-high flowers, extending out several meters in all directions. Shades of red, pink, and white were predominant, but there were flecks of yellow, streaks of darker purple, and slips of green matching the flowers' stems. Beyond and beneath the flowers was a stark white floor matching the blank sky, extending out as far as Kirito could see.
Kirito reached down and picked a flower, whose stem offered little resistance and was pulled with it. The petals, white with crescents of red running through them, curled and overlapped like those of a rose, but their edges were ruffled and bent outwards, giving the blossom a wild, chaotic side. He wondered how such flowers could grow out of such a cold, hard surface.
"Do you like it?"
Kirito turned, and saw a man standing behind him. He wore a colorless lab coat, almost camouflaging his body with the sky and floor. His hair was short and gray, and his face was long. Kirito easily recognized him.
"Akihiko Kayaba," he said. "You're supposed to be dead."
"Who says I'm not?" the man replied. "Kirito, right? Welcome, Kirito, to my home. What do you think?"
"What do you mean? What am I doing here? Is this a dream?" Kirito reached out with his right hand and swiped in the air, but no menu appeared. Yet he had on his plain leather equipment, and when he rapidly looked up and down, his view became artificially blurred, a sign of his NerveGear renderer struggling to keep up with his input.
"These flowers," Kayaba said, crouching down and running his hand over the blossoms, "are called «carnations». Fitting, isn't it? Even though I had nothing to do with the naming of the game... look at these flowers, Kirito. That one in your hand, even. Red and white, linked in a beautiful vortex of nature..."
Kirito stared at the crouching man. "Who are you? No, I know that. What are you?"
Kayaba closed his eyes, remaining crouched, letting his hands rest on the bed of flowers. "Kirito," he said after a long pause, ignoring Kirito's question. "Is it possible... for a dead person... to feel alone?"
Kirito was caught off guard by the query. "Dead? Alone?" Kirito examined the ring of carnations around him. This place is bizarre. I can't open my menu, so it's not a normal game area. Why is Kayaba here? He looked back, and the man was gone. "Where are you?" Kirito shouted into the blank white sky. "What is this place?! Explain yourself!"
But then the sky was no longer empty. Thick mist boiled out of it down towards him, limiting his vision to just a few feet in front of him, obscuring the endless floor.
"Nice talking to you, Kirito," a disembodied voice said into his ear, like a ghost in the wind. "Best of luck."
"No!" Kirito forced out. "Give me answers! What are you?! And why trap us in this game? Kayaba!"
The mist grew thicker, to the point where he could no longer see even his arm, and the world of flowers and white was wiped away...
Kirito stared up into the worried face of Asuna, and for a moment thought he was still dreaming, the red of her cloak and the white of her tunic underneath contrasting just like the petals of the flower that had been in his hand.
Upon seeing him move, the girl's expression softened.
"He'll be okay," a deep voice reassured. Kirito turned his head to the left and saw the voice belonged to Agil, the LMG wielding giant.
Kirito propped himself up with his elbows. "The boss... what happened?"
"Defeated," Agil answered with a smile. "Just a few seconds after he clonked you." He offered Kirito his hand, and Kirito gladly took it, rising to his feet.
The raid group was in jubilation.
"We did it!"
"Look at all of this loot!"
Perhaps the most profound thought of all, though, that ran through all their minds was this:
"We can win. This game is possible."
Diabel was standing to the side, but moved over to them once Kirito was standing. "This victory," he told them, "is yours. Miss, your accuracy was incredible. And Kirito, that charge was brave, and just the distraction we needed."
"Uh..." Kirito stammered. "It was nothing. The boss got the better of me, actually. I almost died there. Really, your leadership made the difference. Your callouts for squad switches were perfect. They're the reason we're all still alive."
"No," Diabel insisted. "Not perfect. We were losing. Miss, your shooting came at an absolutely critical time. You may have been the MVP of this battle." He leaned in close and lowered his voice. "And Kirito... I remember you. The famous «last attack»-chasing soloer... that was you, right?"
So Diabel had indeed been in the beta. Kirito gulped. "...Right."
Diabel smiled. "Good. Kirito, remember this: you are a good man. I'm sure many would look up to you if they knew you were a beta tester, but it seems you don't want that attention, so I won't say anything... Continue being solo, if you wish. Become as strong as you can. We need people like you, like you and her, to be our «knights», our spearhead. Us beta testers, we have to stand strong, be the leaders the others need us to be. I may be able to lead one way, but you lead, even by being solo, in a way of your own..."
Diabel straightened. "Without the two of you here, we might have suffered a defeat. So... I received the «last attack» bonus item. But it's not really my style, and I think you deserve it more than I. It's yours."
He flicked open his inventory and transferred a single item to Asuna. She looked at him, perplexed. "You're giving it to me?"
Diabel nodded. "Like I said. Your shooting was what allowed us to win this battle, miss. It's rightfully yours."
The item details appeared before her. "«Coat of Midnight»," she read. She turned to Kirito, but he shook his head. "No, no, it's yours."
Asuna carefully navigated her menu, storing her red cloak, which, with a light burst of particles, vanished from her shoulders. She equipped the new coat, and it flapped into existence around her: a sheet of pitch black leather, complete with sleeves, whose back stretched nearly all the way down to the floor around her ankles.
She shrugged her shoulders, adjusting to the long black coat, and lifted her arms, testing their range of motion, pleasantly surprised to find it unrestricted.
It was impressive, but Kirito thought its aesthetic didn't really fit her. The black contrasted harshly with her chestnut hair, and Kirito found she looked slightly uncomfortable wearing it... Maybe I'm just jealous.
Agil grinned and crossed his bulky arms. "We beat it," he reiterated. "I think there's a new word we can call ourselves, both beta testers and non-beta testers. We're «beaters». We're the ones who will beat this game."
"Hear, hear!" one of his squadmates agreed. "Beaters, that's what we are!" He cupped hands around his mouth and shouted towards the ceiling. "Floor one hundred, d'you hear us? That's right, us beaters are coming for you! We're going to go all the way, us beaters! You'd better be ready for all of us!"
Beater? Kirito admitted he liked the sound of it. "All the way," he echoed. "All of us..."
Beaters. This is just a game. We can win.
"Hey, wait," someone called from the far end of the large room, the side they had entered from. "No one noticed this before? There's this big... glowing... thing over here! Everyone, look!"
They gathered around. Kirito tried to put a name to the object, but nothing came to mind. It was some kind of energized pillar, made of some ethereal magenta substance, almost like light, but more physical. It seemed to flow from the floor, originating from an obscured ring several feet in diameter, rising up in a spiraling double helix that terminated at the ceiling.
"That's... new," Kirito said. "I don't think this was in the beta..."
Diabel shook his head. "No. It certainly wasn't."
Kirito shouldered his way closer to the pillar. He hesitantly reached out and touched it.
The helix hummed, and then its color changed. Teal light spread from the floor and overtook the magenta. When the whole pillar was converted to the greenish-blue, a dialogue box appeared in Kirito's vision.
"«Energy Relay» activated," he read. "«Relay» aligned to Alpha. Floor Two safe zones enabled. «Engineering» skill unlocked for all Alpha players...?"
"«Engineering skill»?" Agil wondered aloud. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Coming soon...
"Liz... Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Oh, yeah! It's not like it's real manufacturing. Have I ever told you about my math grades? I hated that class. Our ditzy teacher always told us how important math is for all those fancy jobs, blah blah, being an engineer pays oh-so-well, la-de-dah... I'd never do something like this for real..."
"Liz. You're worrying me."
"Sorry, Asuna. But hey, I'm done! Look at it! Isn't it great?"
"...This thing?"
"You're supposed to be impressed now."
She retrieved the blade and then crouched down next to him. "Lookie here," she said, pulling an item from her inventory. "See this?"
It was a fist-sized metal pod, with futuristic red glowing lines crisscrossing its surface: a «Nano-Medkit», an expensive one-time-use item that would remove all status effects and instantly restore a player's health to full.
"If I don't use this," she said frankly, "you're going to die."
"Damn... you..."
"Now, now. No need for such hard words. You tried to kill me, but I'm willing to overlook that fact... if you're willing to give me a bit of information."
Author's Note: Love it? Hate it? All feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading!