Evangelion Versus Angels Online
Chapter Five
"Who needs a lock when you have a nail gun?"
-R. R. Roberts, on why he doesn't lock his door at night
14_September_2025 (Displacement at approximately 3.0719 x 10^9 seconds)
Floor 92, Aincrad
~Roland~
When trying to put someone in a trap, there is always one thing to remember: never place the wrong thing in a trap; it might just trip you up. At least, that's one of the many unwanted lessons my shitty excuse of a parent tried to impart on me before I kicked his ass and left home. But... that's a story for another day. Now, I'm getting a little tired of this game I've forced on myself and my comrades.
It's funny. In all my studies, I never quite figured out what Kayaba Akihiko was trying to do with Sword Art Online. He never told anyone. Well... that's probably not true. He might have told someone who never told anyone else. I've been to my own future; and I know the history books got too much wrong to let go. Be that as it may, it still leaves me without a clue about the motivation for the incident called the SAO Crisis (and later, the First SAO Incident). I have a few ideas, but they're nothing more than vague mutterings that I scribbled down one night back when I cared about his way of thinking. Skye once worked out what my thoughts were into a research paper she penned. Think she got some award for that... must have been the Anderson Award or something. I hope some useless academic spent a restless week trying to disprove it.
Anyway; getting back on topic. Here I am, come all this way to try and figure SAO out, and I get bored less than half way through the floating castle. I guess I'm not totally bored, but I don't even bother going to the front anymore. Nothing exciting ever happens. We get together, usually lose a man or two figuring out the bosses' style, and move in for the kill. Day in an day out. Hell, it's almost a science. About ten days per floor. But the front loses people with every new floor. Someone always finds a girlfriend, or wants to settle down and stop fighting, or just can't take it anymore... like me.
I started taking my company for granted a while ago too. Fairy came in here with me. So did Skye and New Vegas... but for what? I wanted to meet the famous Kayaba Akihiko during the incident, but I wanted to meet him before he vanished. Now what? I sit around, knowing I missed my one and only chance? I once heard that this guy I know from a few dozen floors down, Job I think his name was, knows the guy personally. That turned into a dead end. Might track him down again sometime, just to pick his brain again. Wish the Method had a man like that working for our side. And the woman he was with... ooh! The pair of them could have cut Omega's army to shreds in an instant. It's weird that I've never heard of them before. The records had the names, in game or not, of all the players and when they died. By that, I should have been able to track them down... or at least know who they are. Is it possible they had some kind of protection against the media? Perhaps. But if that's the case, I might never find them by researching back home.
Lately, I heard another rumor. He's on the move again. The solo player who beat SAO, the one that front-lines by himself -Kirito, I think- those guys on Iazya's payroll reported that he might have something to do with how Kayaba Akihiko got away on Floor Seventy Five. I doubt he let that lying sack of shit get away on purpose, but you never know. Maybe Kayaba has people planted in the regular players' crowd to add to the spectacle. I mean, all the reports I read said that the guy had a flare for the dramatic... anything to keep the story from getting dull like so many other RPGs. Think about the name he uses in game... the lead character in the best revenge-romance ever written. Didn't matter that the original Heathcliff was a total monster, this one must have thought it ironic or something.
"Hey," I yell, hoping someone's in the house I rented on this floor. The four of us usually traveled together, trying to cover one another so we don't die... not that we would. The version of NervGear we're using is well... not the helmet-shaped death trap that the first version was. Between New Vegas and Skye, the hack they used to get us all onto the Aincrad servers with the newer equipment was spot on. It helps that Skye's skills stem from more advanced computing systems. I don't mean to diminish NV's contribution, but he's only human. Right now, Nana and those scientists from the pasts Japan should be keeping an eye on us. I just hope it was the right thing to do. When we showed them Nana's serial number (FG.2110v1.0), they instantly trusted us. I suppose it was something to do with their previous work which they didn't go very far into. They just looked at each other, nodded, said something about our method of arrival and got to work.
When I don't hear anyone answer my cry, I assume they all went out. They're all free to do so. It's not like I keep them on me 24/7 in this place. I save that kind of treatment for back home, where I can protect them. Right now, we're all lying in a facility I set up in what will be my city one day. I think the building is still standing then... and given that I was the one who had it built (through a dummy, decades ago), it can withstand just about anything. I remember when we used it as a bomb shelter that one time... oh... I'm digressing again, aren't I?
Whatever. I'm going out. As I left the cottage we were calling home on this floor, I winced as the first rays of sunlight I've seen in days hit my sensitive eyes. It's not that my eyes are normally like this, but the way my brain interprets the light here is a little skewed. Even Skye can't get a handle on why it's reacting so poorly with my brain. But it's nothing more than a slight annoyance. Normally, staring at the sun would give an eye UV poisoning in the form of a burn. That's why people see spots and their eyes hurt from staring at the sun. But here, the sun is just a light source. No heat. No ultraviolet radiation. Just the sensation that something might hurt... for normal players. My guess is that the sensors are over compensating for some reason.
I looked around hoping to catch a glimpse of my comrades in the forest that surrounded the house. Nothing. So I decided to go into town for a little while. I pulled out a teleport crystal, something that I have grown to rely on as much as my skates back home. "Teleport: Highlands." With the command, I was taken in a familiar light and flurry effect from my comfortable little house, to the hustle and bustle of the big city... well... about as big as a city gets in Aincrad. It was a sizeable town. Most of the buildings, when compared to the one or two story jobs on most floors, tower at between five and ten stories high. Not anything, really, like my city... but it almost feels like home. It's not so much that I miss my apartment... it's that I'll be three years older than I was when I left, and that's disconcerting to me, is all. Far as I know, temporal displacement doesn't have any nasty side-effects aside the feeling (purely psychosomatic) of being too old or young. None of that sci-fi being stretched too thin to account for the time non-sense of twentieth century fiction.
"Looking for a good time," A crier from a local tavern announces. I ignore him. NPCs are annoying that way. They'll stand in one location saying the same thing over and over all day, every day. Never tiring, never moving. It's odd, is all. What I'm looking for is less crass than this era's drink. Though, I could go for a sweet tea... if the chance arises. Stuff like that doesn't exist here. The food replication algorithms are complex, but rewriting them just to get a favorite drink might alert the wrong people. Last thing I need is to attract attention now.
"-eriencing discontinuity."
I twisted around. "Who said that," I demanded. No one was near me. The paved road I strolled down was empty except for a few virtual mice scurrying away at my sudden outburst. What was that? A bug? Whatever. It was probably my imagination (or madness) acting up again. I kept on my way, looking around for the friends I was here in SAO with.
When I came on a certain shop in town, I turned inside to find one of the people I was looking for. I waved and said "hey Skye, what's up?"
She didn't look up from what looked a lot like a beef bowl, finished slurping it down and wiped her mouth with an arm. Then she looked up. "What's it to you, Red," she said incredulously.
"Ah," I said, knowing what was up immediately. "46, that you?" Not like I had to ask. Awaken 46 is Skye's... more direct half.
"Yeah," she said. "And?"
A pleasure as always. "Can Skye come out and play? I'd really rather speak with her than you." It's not that 46 is particularly... actually, scratch that. I don't want to lie, especially to myself. Let us leave it at this: she is more courageous in interpersonal relationships than Skye is. Forceful, aggressive and a little more than simply disquieting seeing Skye's face with 46 in charge.
"Like you're one to ask."
"Normally, I'd just say something like 'There are more things in-'" Awaken covered my mouth with her hand most of the way through the line.
"I get it," she gasps out. "Just don't force me like this."
"I wasn't forcing you," I said, countering her ever-present innuendo and sitting down across from her. She could be up there in high-command with Captain Jack leading the charge over the hill. Ha! Imagine World War Four with the Innuendo Squad fighting the Flood. So funny.
"Were too," she pouts. It is an irritating arrangement of facial muscles on her, but somehow not on Skye. Maybe I have a soft spot for her, but nothing romantic. "Do that and I might end up screaming all night."
"Yeah, inside your own head." I nod to her. "Any time now."
"Fine, fine. 'There are more things in heaven and earth,'" she said, pressing her lips together sensuously and leaning in at me "'than are dreamt of in your philosophy,' jerk."
With the recitation of what might be the oddest pass code I've ever seen, being called a 'jerk' notwithstanding, Awaken 46 fell into a slumber and my friend came out. "Skye, you all right?" I leaned over the table, ignoring the murmurs of other players in the restaurant. It might looks odd to them.
The young woman, not much more than five foot three, blinked her eyes and didn't seem to notice the noodle sticking out of her mouth. "Huh? Roland? Where am I?"
"In order, dear." I tilted my head like a confused dog, purposely acting silly. "Yes and in an establishment that serves some of the best noodles this side of the front lines. Anything else?"
She blinks again. "I think not," she answers curtly.
"Good. Oh," I exclaim, "you might want to eat that," I say, pointing to her mouth.
She notices the noodle and quickly slurps it up, eliciting a yelp of embarrassment and her cheeks to gain a pink tint. "T-Thank you."
"Any time. Know where anyone is?"
"I don't. She must have been awake since leaving the cottage," she says with a pout.
"I suppose so. She was having lunch when I walked in."
"I don't suppose she gave in to sleep willingly," Skye asks, sounding weary at the intrusion on her mind.
"Actually, she's been surprisingly subservient since Floor Eighty Eight. Want to fill me in on that?"
"I don't know any more than you."
Was that an evasion? From Skye? Ever since we got here, she seems... strange. I guess it has been a while. People change.
"But she might know something she's not sharing," Skye continued. "All I remember from that floor was how fast it was beaten. Three days, right?"
"Yeah. I heard that Heathcliff made a reappearance and took out the boss. Rumor had it that the boss there was nearly as strong as that immortal freak. Maybe that's why he came back out, to make the story interesting again. It's getting old."
"Or maybe it was to remind us of the real difference in power," Skye lamented.
"That could be it," I conceded, "or he just wanted one last chance to show off before the end of the game. Remember what Stephen Fry said about him in 2039?"
"I don't. Only you and Fairy really researched Heathcliff. Vincent and I are only along for the ride."
"All right. Fry said that Heathcliff was trying to give everyone a good time."
Skye raised her eyebrow. "I don't follow. Didn't this game... won't this game have a body count in the high six thousands by the end of this year?"
"That it will," I said, frowning. "But his goal, one of them, was to let people who wanted to live in these games actually live. Here, their lives and fortunes are put to the test. If they die, they die knowing that it was by their own strength that they got so far. If they live, even better for morale overall. It's a test of strength for the upcoming century."
"That I follow. Daddy drilled me on Earth history since we arrived, so I have the last couple hundred years down pat."
"So you know about World War Three, Four and Five?"
"Just the general stuff. In Three, the Soviets-"
"Russians," I said, correcting the outdated term.
"Right. Russia used nuclear weapons on the North American defense agencies and the Chinese, who were pushing on their borders from the south."
"Yeah. It was weird in that everyone was expecting Russia to go for civilian targets. Think they watched too many Cold War spy movies."
"Like double-oh-seven?"
"Something like that, but weirder. Like They Came to Conquer was a crystal clear allegory for the former USSR, but with aliens."
"Lemme' think. World War Four was when the United Nations called in the Germans and the Japanese to stop the Third in China, like a war on two fronts. And Five was when the UN collapsed and the Federated Nations was formed."
"You left out most of it, but that's the gist of it."
She frowned slightly. We barely scratched the surface, but that was more or less what led up to the formation of the Federated Nations and the current (current for us) world structure. Frankly, I couldn't care any less about the FN, I just care about my city. I would like to get back though.
"But," she went on, "what does the next hundred years have to do with this game?"
"Oh, but that's exactly it. This isn't really a game," I answered.
"Then what do you propose it is?"
"The next generation proving itself."
She tilted her head. "You'll have to walk me through that one. Maybe I should have looked into my history a little more before this trip."
"Here," I said, offering a hand to gesture what I was explaining. "Think of SAO as a tool for getting people ready for hardship. I mean, the next hundred years is pretty much three-quarters hard. A majority of the three thousand and some who get out of this game go on to be very important people in the coming years."
"Like..."
"Take that guy we met a while back. Job?"
"We met him on Floor Fifty-Five," Skye answered solidly.
"Of the people I studied most closely, fifteen people overall, he made the list. Want to know why?"
"Go on."
I lean in, motioning her to the same. I don't want to be overheard. "When this is over," I whisper huskily, "he designs the next gen NervGear and distributes it. Independently."
We move from out huddle and Skye says "really? I mean, that must take ten years or more."
"Not at all. He had a working prototype when this began. The director at Nerv took the one he was wearing, some off brand; I don't remember the details. But hidden away in his apartment, the beginnings of the NervGear Mark Six."
"You sound like a fan. A little crushed that your hero is a teenager right now?"
I felt my face heat up slightly. "Stop that. I only mean to impart that the Mark Six and all derivatives of that technology are the safest and most reliably interfaces we have. I doubt we'll stop using them, unless we can just move people into the computers."
"We're moving that direction. Nana is the opposite: a computer in a more or less organic body."
I considered this for a moment, let it drop. "My point in this is that Heathcliff may have been getting people ready to take on the future, even if he couldn't be there."
"But you don't know," Skye asked.
"It's based on incomplete data. I'm not a high-option-logic computer, I can't work out ideas like that in my head easily."
"Makes sense. What now?"
"I want to find Fairy and von Meyer. Think I might go front lining today. The dungeon is about done and I want in on the boss."
"You haven't gone up in a while. What changed your mind?"
Honestly? "Our conversation."
She pulled back into the chair.
"You reminded me of why I wanted to come here. And you never know," I went on, "Heathcliff might show up again to mess with the front lines a little."
"He might kill them," Skye said.
"Or he may not. Especially if I'm there to cause trouble."
"You think you alone can turn the tide if he shows up?"
"In a word? Yes."
She punched my arm across the table. "You're so full of yourself."
"That I am."
"Any reason?"
"Well, we did save the world in about a hundred years."
"Still on that?"
"And I got to hit dad in the face. Again," I boasted.
"You really shouldn't talk about your father that way."
"He might be nice to you and the Method, but never to his family. It's always Rule this and Rule that with the man. Gets on my nerves."
"I thought you didn't have nerves," Skye said dryly.
"It's feelings I don't have. Roland, commander of the Method: fearless, tearless, bloodless demon who traversed time itself on a whim," I leaned over the table, trying to be intimidating. "Just who in the hell do you think I am?"
"A dork," she said, flicking me in the forehead and sending me back into my chair.
"-this keeps up, he might-"
"What was that," I asked, whipping my head around to find the origin of the voice.
"What was what, Roland?"
"A voice. I heard it earlier," I said quietly, trying not to be overheard.
"I didn't hear anything."
"Are you sure? Did you see anything," I asked the follow up without giving her time to respond to the first question.
"I don't see anyone odd. A couple players at other tables, but no one out of the ordinary."
"Fine. I think we should leave. Act normal."
"Got it. Are you going to pay for lunch?"
"Me? I didn't eat anything," I feigned irritation.
"Neither did I," Skye retorted. She was technically right, but the staff wouldn't see it that way. Dining and dashing wouldn't make play hard for either of us. We could afford three days of playing Orange.
"I'll cover it. It's not like we don't have a stockpile anyway."
I tossed down a small bag of Col, probably more than enough to cover the four bowls of food Awaken 46 ate. That should sufficiently attract anyone following us. We are dressed fairly well, but can't counterattack well in a city. So, we lure our followers out with us and kill them if any trouble arises. Simple as that. There are no paradoxes, only world lines.
After a short while we made it out of the city, Skye on my arm, and into the northern area where the floor's dungeon is. No one seemed to be following us. That makes me sure that more than a small guild was after us. Maybe it isn't the money they're after. Maybe items? Or do they think we're Beaters? That could make trouble for us. We're on the same level as the Beaters. This game not having a level cap is a double edged sword. The highest anyone ever got in game was Kirito. He made it to level two hundred fifty-five. The last four was from fighting Heathcliff in single combat at the end of the game and winning. Two-five-five was more of an honorary level than anything, but he was highest by more than ninety. Skye and I are only at one hundred ten each, but more than twenty higher than newbies from the beginning of the game who are front lining now. It would be troublesome if more than twenty rushed us. About on the same level of a boss fight in comparison.
"We shouldn't go into the dungeon," Skye whispered into my ear, still following battle doctrine I set for the Method. It's the Method's Modus Operandi in every operation to work silently, quickly and efficiently. "Let's find the others first."
"I agree. Where do you think they might be?"
"They might have gone back to the house... or maybe the market on Floor Eighty. Why don't you just check your friends list?"
I must have looked awestruck for a moment. I struck, with the palm of my hand, my forehead with such fierceness. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Don't beat yourself up for it. We're usually not apart for any length of time."
"No, really. What the hell is going on in my head? It's like I can't even think of simple ideas anymore."
"I don't understand."
"I'm hearing things, Skye. I don't know what's going on, but I don't like it."
"If you're having trouble, have Vincent examine you. He'll-"
"Anyone but that mad man," I exclaimed. It's not that I don't trust von Meyer, but I trust him with machines, not flesh.
"He's really not all that bad. Remember when he fixed up Charles after the first skirmish with Omega?"
"He took off Charles' arm and replaced it with a shotgun."
"It twisted around."
"He did it without permission."
"Charles loved it."
"Still wrong."
"You're angry 'cause you wanted one," she said smiling.
I responded by shuttering. "Just check the list."
She did so, locating Fairy and von Meyer approaching the cottage. I suppose their shopping trip or whatever it was went well.
"Will you send them a message asking that they come to the dungeon area? I'm in the mood to front line."
"The world doesn't revolve around you, but sure."
I know that. But...
"How's this," she asked, showing me the message.
'Roland's finally in the mood to front line again, meet us there, 3 Skye.'
Embarrassing.
We waited around the entrance to the dungeon for twenty minutes for the rest of our group. When they arrived, Fairy dashed up that way she does.
"Red," she yelled as she ran right up to me. "What's the big idea, making us come all the way out here after the long day we've had?"
I answered, "you've been gone two hours. What long day, Blue?"
"Perhaps then," von Meyer pointed out, "we might complain about the long voyage. We did sprint here after all."
"On virtual legs that hardly tire more than as if you ran fifty meters down a flat road."
"That's not the point," Fairy yelled at me. "You finally want to front line, and you don't call yourself?" She pecked my cheek lightly. "Next time, call. I was afraid this depression of yours was going to last longer."
"First of all, I'm not depressed-"
"Yes you were," von Meyer said calmly, interrupting me as always. "You did little more than sit around the room we rented on Floor Seventy-Six for weeks. The only time you really went anywhere was when we moved to this floor."
Skye spoke up, "I didn't want to say anything, but I was surprised that you came to get me at the restaurant."
"I suppose-"
"Don't suppose, Red," Fairy said gruffly. "Let's just get on the front and see about taking down another boss."
I opened my mouth to debate farther, fount if pointless and followed my comrades into the darkness. It would seem that they've been ready for this a while. During our walk, I confronted each on this. When put to her flatly, Fairy told me that she had noticed my... lacking optimism since just after Floor Seventy-Five. Skye and von Meyer didn't seem to notice until the second or third time I just sat around that old apartment. In month, no one even said a word to me about it. I don't know, for a change, what that means. It is complete trust and respect to let me sort out the problem on my own time; or is it general apathy toward me?
"You haven't looked that way," Fairy went on, "since after we beat back Omega's invasion force. We didn't know to keep our distance back then. This time, we let you bum around because we care."
"Think of it this way, commander," von Meyer said, "we kept you fed and clothed."
"You act as if this isn't just a game," I pointed out.
"You contradict yourself, commander. Besides, unlike many players who eat due to habit, we eat because of how the life-function algorithms will affect us if we don't. It means starving and death for normal players. For us, it means being expelled from the game."
"You say that so callously."
"I only speak the truth. Facts are a refuge from the, otherwise, opinion controlled world."
"If I didn't know better, von Meyer, I'd say you're trying to use philosophy."
"But you do know better, sir."
"That I do," I agree. Can't believe that, out of all people, von Meyer still calls me commander and sir.
"We're almost there," Skye says, falling back on the old days of reports and protocol. "Fifty meters to destination through uncertain terrain."
"Keep on the lookout for mobs and players. Do not attack without provocation." I was also falling back into the command role. What have I been doing all this time?
"Lizard mob, roughly level seventy at twelve," Skye reports."
I leap forward, bisecting the creature with only my agility skill. I don't use sword skills. They leave too much up to the whims of the computer to pass or fail. I prefer a sure-thing to a wager most days.
"Still insisting you're not our leader," Fairy chimes in frigidly.
"I never said I wasn't leading, I just acted unfit for a while there. It is always a choice to follow me or stab me in the back." I poked a thumb at my back, inviting a thrust that would send me back to reality. None came. I really do trust my team, and they trust me to lead.
Rule fourteen: pretend to be a friend, work as a spy. I despise this above all else. If there is one thing that my useless father and Daniel taught me, it was that rule fourteen is one of the most pathetic forms of living. If I ever pretended, it was defensive and only in use when someone seemed unfriendly. I recall a time when Selene sent a group of mercenaries after me. They wheedled their way into my organization, rose in the ranks, and I slaughtered them the first and last time they made the mistake of assaulting the Method's headquarters from inside the walls. And no, I didn't kill them. I just made it hard for them to leave.
A while later, several mobs killed and players rescued from certain death (slight exaggeration), the four of us came on the final path to the boss level.
"That was fun," Fairy says groaning slightly. She is a little worse for wear, but a potion and some food can fix that.
"Here," says von Meyer as he tosses her a sticky bun and a low level potion.
Fairy munched on the pastry while the potion healed most of her health. Just a little time will bring the rest back, as it will for the rest of us who were damaged only slightly. Granted that 'slightly' is in the ten thousands, it hardly matters with ninety thousand health.
"Are we ready," I asked the group after about fifteen minutes of healing and sitting around.
"I think so-" Skye began to answer as a group of players walked up to us. They were inching along almost as if dying. It reminded me a little of Night of the Living Dead. Actually, it reminded me more of how the vampires in that sixties Vincent Price movie moved. Living, but a little sluggish.
One of them suddenly spoke up shakily. "We... we are... here to kill... you."
Fairy took a step forward, grinning, into my outstretched arm. I pushed her back slightly, trying not to provoke the group around us. Skye and von Meyer looked around, noting that we were surrounded by no less than twelve people in black robes.
"You want to kill us," I said. "You know, I can't let that happen. I would rather we all just walk away from this."
Another member, this one with a high voice and the nasty habit of laughing quickly, spoke up. "You acts like you got a choice, man."
"We are the Laughing Coffin," said the tallest of the group, a man with white hair streaming out of his hooded cloak and a long sword. "We exist to kill and be killed alike." He took his sword in a hand, raised it above his head and revealed a tattoo on his arm: this little cartoon coffin. They are definitely Laughing Coffin. These guys were only Orange a year ago, but they've since gotten into the killing business. I think their leader died a while back and the new management took it the next step into them being a Red guild.
"I see," I said to them, "I think I see. So, you kill and are killed, that right?"
Fairy whispered into my ear, "Counter thirteen - four."
I didn't react, but that signal means we have thirteen people to beat and that we should use plan four, a four cornered assault that encircles a group. We've planned for this since the beginning. If I remember right, some of the Laughing Coffin members got out of SAO. Depending on what happens, we might lost someone. There are no paradoxes.
Our counterattack can't begin without a shot. The tall man, probably the new leader, said, "We are killers and brothers of killers. Prepare yourself to become a memory."
I won't ever become a memory. At least, not yet.
The thirteen we could spot, likely all of them, wrapped around the cavernous space we walked into. The four of us took up defensive postures in a smaller circle facing our so-called killers. Skye stood with twin daggers; von Meyer with something he made called the Suicide Stick, a sort of baseball bat with nails sticking out of it; Fairy with an ancient-English styled sword and myself with a French style long sword.
"Laughing Coffin," the white-haired leader bellowed, "kill! And if you must, be killed!"
At least he knows the score. You can't kill if you aren't ready to lose your own life.
"Red Method, defend yourselves," I said as the Red guild charged us. Thirteen on four is a little unfair, but nothing we couldn't handle. Skye swatted at three members who clumsily swung in her direction. They didn't have any skill, it seems. Fairy and von Meyer parried attacks while I thrust forward into arms and torsos.
Several minutes of this violent dance resulted in the four of us dropping down to about eighty percent health each and breaking one of Skye's daggers. If we had a moment to check, she would pull another from her inventory. But we're a little busy. Our enemy hasn't seemed to lose much. A couple weapons broken, but their comrades cover them long enough to get more. This could be trouble.
"Commander," von Meyer spoke into by ear while parrying a thrust of a black sword, "I've been checking on their stats through that recursive loop I have set up."
I stabbed another member and took a considerable time to answer, around ten seconds. "Report." Like I know what the loop or whatever does. I know it loops stats on itself, but not how.
"They haven't logged health drops past point zero zero one percent. I think they have a hacker working for them."
I was afraid of that. Three years is a long time for someone not to have figured out how to 'adjust' stats in their favor (or for other favors). That's how we have the stat loop that alerted us in the first place. But then, we have several of the twenty-first and twenty-second century's best programmers working for us. These guys had to work it out from the inside, an impossibility without some game master pushing the first stone down the hill.
"Do you have a plan," I asked, still holding off four impossibly strong players at once.
"Yeah," von Meyer answers, "but there's a catch."
"What?"
"It's the Suicide Stick. If I use a sword skill with it, it does debug damage. Instant death to anything caught in the blast of whatever I use. It also does recoil damage, probable enough to kill the user," he answered, using the weapon in question to hold back an attack, but without a skill.
"So what it comes to-"
von Meyer cut me off, "-is that I let them kill us, or I go out in a blaze of glory that will be felt all the way back home."
"You watch too many movies."
"Not at all, commander. Permission to proceed?"
"Ten meters, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you have my leave. See you in a few months, N. V."
"By your command."
Waving my sword around to clear part of the room, I took Skye under an arm and Fairy with the one holding the sword and started to run, only touching the ground every couple meters.
Skye screamed out at me, "what the fuck, man!"
Great... Awaken is up again. I suppose it's better than making Skye fight, but I wish 46 would let us know these things.
"N. V. is buying us time and delivering a blow to Laughing Coffin."
Fairy, not pleased to be running along by the crook of her outfit but dealing with it, said, "he's going home, isn't he?"
"Yes."
I came to a stop about thirty meters away from the fight and turned in time to think 'I always said he watched too many movies. Today is no exception.'
"You shall not pass," he screamed out to the thirteen members of Laughing Coffin as he activated a skill with the Suicide Stick, impaling his own chest. For a moment, they laughed it off. Then, the whole tunnel exploded in bright light. When it faded, only von Meyer was left standing.
We ran to him. Fairy made it first, but arrived sliding on her knees just as his health bar vanished. "Hey, boss-man..."
I dropped near him and said, "N. V."
"Hit myself... Idiot."
I figured it would happen. All that debug damage in one weapon was a mistake. He disappeared in a flurry of light. Awaken and Fairy made quick work of collecting the remains of Laughing Coffin. I grabbed von Meyer's items, including the Suicide Stick.
Serves you right to play the martyr. You don't get to see the end of the game, Vegas the White... damn it... he has me making those old references now too.
Something that I learned later that I may as well tell now: von Meyer woke up with a slight headache where our allies were watching over us. He let them know what happened and returned home to check the divergence meter. Our killing Laughing Coffin only shifted the meter down in the ninth decimal place. Not even worth a mention in the history we're building. At least the Reading Steiner didn't pick up on it as any more than a buzz in his head around when they would have caused trouble again in the real world. There are no paradoxes, only world lines and Readers.
"What do you want now, dude," Awaken said suddenly while mopping up the loot.
"I want you to go back to sleep," I answered sharply.
"You and me both, boss."
"What?"
"The sheep went to sleep herself. No passphrase, just wake her up."
I suddenly said "'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'" And waited. Nothing.
"See, I told you but you didn't listen."
"Fairy," I said, turning, "Skye can't wake up. Ideas?"
"Let her sleep for now. It's not like Awaken can do anything to us."
"Don't talk about me like I'm not even here," she said using Skye's voice. I don't like it, but that's what we're working with. Half of this person is our friend, the other half is a sadistic, sarcastic military computer with a chip on her shoulder.
"We'll talk about you however we want," I said, nearly yelling at her. "Finish collecting the items and prepare for-"
"-alking about...waves are fusi-"
"Roland," Fairy said, leaning over my hunched figure.
"Sorry, voices again. I'm starting to be able to make more of it out. Sounded like von Meyer."
"Voices?" Fairy seemed shocked. "Why is this the first I'm hearing of this?"
"Mostly because I only noticed today. Something about discontinuity and waves. I didn't catch much."
"I might have something," Awaken offered.
"And," I urged her to go on. Why not hear what she has to say.
"I think you're hearing the outside."
I thought about that for a moment. "Unlikely. We brought the top models of Mark Six derivatives to this time. They should me perfect."
"So should you," Awaken said. "I think your fan-boy routine for the creator is going to your head. Maybe the tech doesn't mesh well with the old servers."
"If that's the case," I said, "why aren't you experiencing this problem? Why not Fairy?"
"My problem is that I can't go back to sleep. Yours is voices. Fairy," she pointed to our blue-haired comrade. "Anything strange today?"
"Not really... well... I have been moving a little slowly today, but I just thought it was the servers running a little slow."
"New hypothesis," I said, "the future tech doesn't play well with the past and the SAO servers only noticed the problem now. They are trying to get rid of us."
"Possible," Awaken said slowly.
Fairy added, "perhaps it's time?"
"Time to leave? No," I decided. "As long as these problems don't impede us, we should keep going. But," I turned back to Awaken, "I'm thinking about what to do with you."
"What is that supposed to mean," she snapped at me.
"It means it scares me that your password doesn't work and I don't want anything happening to Skye's mind while we stay here past our welcome."
"You pretend I'm an old world personal computer," she shot back. "I'm not. I am a top of the line construct made to protect Skye number one zero eight." She pouted. "You act like this is something other than a defense against outside invasion. Perhaps we are being hacked and pre-program is keeping her asleep. Ever think of that, smarty pants?"
"It's possible," I conceded. "Still scares me."
"Me or the situation?"
"Yes," I answered her with an effective 'both.'
"Get over it. Things will change when they do." She suddenly smiled. "Maybe we can off the boss now?"
Fairy answered, "sounds good to me."
"And me. Come on," I said, leading the way into the boss' room. Not sure if this will go well. A party of three against a high level boss. Maybe if he was a few levels higher, it would be a fair fight.
AU: Sorry for the month and a half wait. It's the second half of my third year at university and I haven't had to time to dedicate to this that I would want. As always, comment and review please. The more reviews I get, the better the story gets. Also, if the timeline or shift in characters or perspective is throwing anyone off, let me know. It throws me off a little too.