The four members of Caenor's team stood in a line in front of his desk.

A firebrand, a mute, a former spy, and a mentally unstable, trauma-ridden girl. Variety was the spice of life, but he couldn't help but wonder if this might just be a bit too much flavor for his liking. He had explained the situation regarding Wing to the others, and they had all agreed that they would not bring her on any hideout raids until they decided she was trustworthy. When exactly that would be, heaven only knew, but until then they would have to make do with what they could get.

It didn't help that they were not the only people in the room. Though the room was big enough to fit several dozen people, it spoke volumes about the size of their team – and the issues they faced – that any more than five people felt like a crowd.

Caenor motioned towards his subordinates. "Kirito and Asuna, meet Cantabile, Altorius, Seki, and Wing. I believe Kirito hasn't met the others, at least not in any personal capacity. Asuna, you probably already know some of them – maybe better than I do, even."

Asuna smiled. "Most of you have fought many tense battles together. Combat brings out the truest measure of a person. I'm sure you know them much more intimately than I do now."

"I would hope so. As for the two of you, I don't think either of you need much introduction, though you can go ahead and introduce yourself if you want."

Asuna elbowed Kirito in the ribs, and he rose to his feet sheepishly. "I'm Kirito," he said. "I'm technically not part of the guild, but I help out here and there. We've probably raided together once or twice, so maybe you've seen me before. I hope we get along."

Kirito had arrived at the Knights of the Blood's headquarters to discuss his next Labyrinth raid with his raiding party, and Caenor had bumped into him in one of the corridors. The Black Swordsman, ever the eager acquaintance, had asked to meet the rest of his team and help them with whatever might be necessary. Kirito had somehow contrived to drag Asuna here as well, despite his friend's ultimately futile protests.

"You're pretty famous around these parts," said Cantabile. "I know you."

An inexplicable sinking feeling materialized in Caenor's chest.

"You do?" Kirito gave a half-chuckle. "I'm honored to hear that."

"Yeah, and it's not all good news. Why's someone from outside the guild raiding with us?"

Asuna's serene expression shifted into one of bemusement. "We need all the help we can get on the front lines, especially from someone as capable as Kirito. Why not accept his assistance if he's offering it?"

"I know what it's like raiding with someone who thinks – and knows – that they're better than everyone else." Cantabile put her hands on her hips as she glared at Kirito. "They get free rein to do whatever the hell they want in a raid, and that works most of the time. But when they fuck up and get someone weaker killed, they get off scot-free because the team 'needs' them, and everyone pretends that nothing happened. The people who die just become names on a wall. No accountability, just sacrifices for the sake of the greater good."

The room fell silent. Caenor eased his face into his palms.

"I mean…" Kirito laughed nervously. "She's not wrong. Not joining the guild is just me being selfish, really. I just can't help but want to come along with you guys."

"Don't say that, Kirito. Cantabile, that was out of line," Asuna reprimanded. "You may have your own personal opinions on the matter, but the other vice-commanders and Heathcliff have agreed to this arrangement. If Kirito commits any errors – and he makes exceedingly few of them – he is sanctioned in the same way any other guild member might be. Plus, we aren't a guild that punishes people for accidents, unless they are extremely grievous. Please try and be diplomatic, even if you can't be friendly."

Cantabile clicked her tongue in annoyance and pulled a face, but said nothing further.

"Anyway… if you need my help with certain things, I'll usually be around – just ask for me or send me a message, if you want. Unless it's raiding day, in which case I might not be." Kirito shrugged. "But if you don't, then I won't press the issue. That's all I came here to say – it was good meeting you all." He turned towards the door.

"Sorry, Kirito," Caenor said as the Black Swordsman passed by him. "As you can see, our team's an interesting group. I'll get them sorted out sooner or later."

Kirito put a hand on his shoulder and winked. "I trust you, Vice-commander." He gave Caenor a thumbs up as he left the room. Asuna glided along in tow, shooting one last glare at Cantabile before she departed.

Caenor returned to his seat and sank into the cushion, gesturing for the others to sit as well. The extra chairs now scattered around his room had been kindly donated to him by the guild treasury, which had evidently also found a new storage place for non-inventory items – the corners of the room, with Caenor's grudging permission, were slowly filling with racks and shelves, as well as the odd piece of actually usable furniture.

"That was out of order, Cantabile." Caenor let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "But I see your point. Regardless, none of the other guild members save for the vice-commanders and Heathcliff will be answerable to us now, and neither will we be to them. We're sort of our own thing, so don't get too flustered about things beyond your control."

"I… Sorry." For once, Cantabile had it in her to look apologetic, though that expression soon faded. "I couldn't help myself."

"He's a nice guy if you get to know him, though I don't know the chances of that happening."

Cantabile sighed, her frustrations etched across her face. "If you say so. I can't stand seeing everyone fawn over him and Asuna just because they happen to be better at the game than everyone else. That in itself doesn't make them better people."

"Nothing wrong with a little jealousy, as long as you use it as fuel instead of beating yourself up with it. They earned the privilege to get fawned over, after all." Caenor coughed. "Now, I've already briefed you guys on the situation with Wing, but I want to properly hear your thoughts. My personal view is that we can first try going to the hideouts that Wing didn't cross out, and then do the rest of the list after that. That way, even if Wing is deceiving us, we won't fall behind."

"What does the list look like now?" asked Seki.

Caenor passed her the copy with the crossed-out coordinates. "The hit on the 55th floor hideout is apparently a no-go, so our schedule right now is a bit different. We'll spread out our raids over a period of three days. On the first and second days, we have hideouts that are relatively closer to their floors' teleport plazas, so we can do three per day. The last two are farther away, and one of them is close to a Labyrinth, so we leave that one for last. I've allotted a fourth day in case we take too long on any of the previous ones."

Seki frowned. "What about our members? Do we have any more people in the team? Surely four won't be enough."

Caenor shook his head. "I agree, but I've asked around a few times, and this is all we have. Though honestly, I've been thinking – or maybe hoping – that we don't need more than five or six. If we have too many members, that makes planning and scheduling difficult – not to mention keeping everything under wraps. I believe that the personnel we have now will be sufficient to flush out a small or medium-sized safehouse without too much trouble. The training we've been doing has gone pretty much as smoothly as I've expected, save for a few… hiccups here and there."

He stared pointedly at each of his team members in turn, impressing upon them the seriousness of what he was about to say. "We still don't know who we can trust. We have to be wary of anyone who says they want to join us or help us, because we don't know if our timetable has been leaked, especially now that we know about Wing. It's absolutely crucial that we keep our lips as tightly sealed as possible."

"If what Wing says is true, then anyone in the guild could be a spy." Seki chewed on her fingernails. "In other words, we can't let anyone see anything that we're doing, or see where we're going. That's going to be near-impossible if we're walking around the guild headquarters in broad daylight. What do we do?"

"Exactly. So, we'll have to finish everything at night." Caenor pointed to the list in Seki's hand. "I've written down some possible times next to the dates. We'll need to do a bit of scouting around those floors before we actually make our move." He held two fingers up. "We'll split the eight different levels between the four of us, so each of us will check two floors. I've written names next to the hideouts on that list – the rest of you should note down which floors you're going to."

Seki frowned as she read the list more closely. "We're going tomorrow? And the hideout raids start the day after?"

"There's no time to waste," Caenor replied. "It's just about now or never. We don't know what we should expect, and we don't know what's true and what isn't – especially now that Wing isn't informing for them, which might very well arouse their suspicions. Like I said a few days ago, we have to make our move before they make theirs."

Seki forced a labored gust of air out of her nose. "We're actually doing this," she muttered, her forehead folding into small lines of concern.

"We are." Caenor felt a tightness take hold of his chest, clutching at his heart, refusing to let go. He did not know if it was excitement, nervousness, or perhaps even fear. He had officially declared that the snowball was to be rolled down the slope – all they could do now was steer it and hope it landed at the destination they sought to reach, wherever that may be. After so many days of numbly going through the motions, working towards a goal that still did not seem totally achievable, the most vital and dangerous phase of his newfound purpose was to begin.

Though he had spent much time musing over the motivations of his party members, Caenor sometimes queried whether the most important motivation – his own – had ever been clearly defined. There was, of course, the publicly stated aim that the game as a whole should be made safer for all those who played it, a convenient and easily justifiable explanation for gathering this troupe of misfits together in one place. Nevertheless, vengeance formed the biggest part of his drive to move forward with the idea, and he would never in a million years forget the sickened, despairing look on Ferramo's rugged features as he was drained of his health bar and his life, knowing that he would never see the light of day again, whether virtually or in the real world.

Not that there was anything inherently wrong with wanting to avenge one's fallen brethren. But Caenor wondered if a vice-commander of a reputed guild wielding an influence over a sizeable – if not by any means large – number of people ought to try and stake the moral high ground on behalf of his subordinates, or at least put up a façade of doing so.

"We'll check back in here tomorrow morning," he said. "Wing, I'll take you back to your cell. All of you, take it easy for today. It may be the last real day of rest we get in a long time."

"Or maybe ever," Cantabile murmured.

No more words were spoken as they left the office. No more needed to be.

That afternoon, Caenor paid a discreet visit to Lindarth on the 48th floor, making sure to use the alleyways and the most sparsely-populated roads on his way there.

There wasn't any particular need to be secretive about visiting the person who had somehow become his go-to for his smithing and crafting requests. But the more paranoid and anxious part of him couldn't help but imagine the consequences of Laughing Coffin, having possibly learned of his team's mission, now seeking to go after him and everyone he knew – which included the pink-haired blacksmith who now stood in front of him, smiling broadly as she rapped the desk in front of her.

"The armor you wanted is ready," Lisbeth said. "Try it on."

Caenor took the item Lisbeth had handed him and placed it in his inventory, pulling out its information. "This is exactly what I needed," he said as he perused the armor's details.

With a tap, he equipped the new armor onto himself. At once, his standard Knights of the Blood uniform glowed and sparkled until it had been absorbed into the light, dissipating into the blinding silhouette. When the light faded, he was clad in what at first glance looked like a slimmed-down, default version of his original garb, with a few of the extra ornaments and fancy trims removed. At a distance, he would be indistinguishable from any other guild lackey. However, a closer look revealed the innovation behind the veneer of normalcy: streams of linked chains coiling around his arms and upper body, hidden behind the white and red cloth, running up and down the sleeves and through the rest of the robe, stretching down to his knees.

The steel chainmail would not survive a heavy blow from a boss or large monster, but it would do just fine against the relatively light swings of a sword or some other human weapon.

In other words, it was the perfect counterbalance against player killers.

"I also have the three other standard chainmail sets that you requested," Lisbeth added, manifesting the extra armor onto the table and spreading them out. "They're thin enough to fit under most cloth or leather armor, but should also be able to withstand a lot of abuse. Judging from what you've told me about your teammates, I separated the sleeve sections from the body sections so they'll be able to use their full range of arm motion. I did the same for your armor as well."

"Thank you so much, Lisbeth… Liz." Caenor's relief was evident on his face, and Lisbeth couldn't help but grin.

"You're the one who got those materials for me – the least I could do was help my new buddy out. You can thank me by getting those teammates of yours to come here for their checkups and weapon or armor purchases."

"You don't have to worry about that. I'm sure they'll be impressed by these." Caenor stored the chainmail sets into his inventory and clicked his menu shut. "Could you check my wrist-blade as well?"

"Didn't I have a look at it last week? I don't think they'll break that easily." Lisbeth sounded hurt at the thought of her craftsmanship being put in question, though Caenor could tell that it was in jest.

"Yes, but I just want to make sure it's 100% ready. It's going to be a massive week ahead – probably the only week that's really going to matter for our team."

"Sounds like it's all kicking off," Lisbeth noted nonchalantly as she took Caenor's weapon and peered at the menu that popped up before her. "I don't know the details, although Kirito told me a little bit about you guys. Laughing Coffin, huh? They're real pieces of work. I remember Silica told me she got roped in with an orange guild once, before Kirito helped her leave them. That sounded bad enough, so I can only imagine what a guild that actively goes around killing people and looting their belongings would be like."

"They're as dangerous as you think they are, if not several times worse. I had… a run-in with them once."

"You did? I'm glad you made it out in one piece." Lisbeth frowned. "I guess it makes sense that you'd want to go after them, then. But wouldn't it be better just to act as a guard for your guild's raiding parties, or something along those lines? Why go through the trouble of wiping them out completely, especially if you only have four people?"

"Because… because it won't end until they're gone."

"What won't end?"

"The problems that we're facing right now. We…" Caenor trailed off. He wondered how much he ought to tell Lisbeth. He did not feel good about saddling her with any additional worries – though Lisbeth could ostensibly handle herself in a fight, she did not have the same experience with player killers that Silica or Kirito had. But if she ended up being too gullible to tell friend from foe and perishing because Caenor had tried to spare her from the truth – as Kirito had done to his former guild – then he had no choice but to explain himself to her.

"If you're not busy, then I'll tell you what happened to me," he finally said.

Lisbeth put the wrist-guard down and returned his gaze, her eyes softening as she studied his demeanor. "If you don't mind sharing, then I've got all day."

Sleep had never come easily to Caenor, given the velocity with which thoughts typically raced through his head, but tonight it was particularly unforthcoming. Normally, he would lay in bed, blanket tucked up to his chin, in a desperate yet ultimately futile attempt to beckon slumber to claim him. He would then succumb to his insomnia and sit in contemplation, either in his room or in his office, watching as the virtual moon trudged across the sky. Tonight, however, he did not bother with any semblance of sleep.

He was once again in the chamber that had become his second home, checking and double-checking his team's preparations for the days to come. The torches on the wall had become old friends, flickering in affirmation whenever he posed a question to himself out loud, as though telling him that what he was doing was right, that only a thorough cleansing of those who strayed from the path of cooperation and mutual benefit espoused by most of the game's players would suffice.

Sometimes, it felt as though a monster had been awoken within him. It was one who told him that until Laughing Coffin as an entity was erased from this game, he was allowed to think of nothing else; one that forbade him from enjoying the company of others, from savoring life's small delights even within the terrifying pseudo-reality of his virtual prison. The sumptuous holographic food he ate was bland and bereft of flavor; the brilliant views of the game's meticulously-crafted landscape were monochrome and devoid of life.

He would not return to normalcy until his enemies were eliminated, but even when they were, the monster could not be sent back to sleep. The abyss had stared back, and Caenor was forever frozen under its gaze. The difference was ultimately whether he would keep the shadow under wraps, or let it loose and become, in essence, no different from those he sought to defeat.

After hearing his story in the afternoon, Lisbeth had offered perfunctory words of comfort, but she had appeared strangely detached from then on. She was cognizant of the evil that Laughing Coffin represented, but like the vast majority of players, she remained reluctant to entertain the notion of taking the life of another living, breathing person. Despite the players' appearances as constructed 3D models – or perhaps especially because they took such forms – the idea that murder in-game would translate to murder in real life was still beyond the voluntary acceptance of most of the community, particularly given that most of them were still adolescents or young adults, barely weaned off the innocence of youth.

Lisbeth saw the shadow as Caenor did, but instead of embracing it, she was fearful. It could not be her, just as it could not be anyone who had never experienced their first kill.

All the more reason, then, for Caenor and his team to take that burden on their own shoulders.

Finished with his affairs for the night, he left the office and made his way back down the hallway. However, instead of weaving towards his quarters as he would normally do, his feet, perhaps by some subconscious instruction, led him down the stairs and into the guild's private dungeons.

The cells located in the underground level were rarely used, seeing as it was difficult to imprison or otherwise inhibit the movement of people within the Anti-Criminal Area without applying excessive force and hence triggering the Area's protective effect. Nevertheless, there were loopholes and other means by which undesirables could be kept there – one of which was simply to ask them to voluntarily incarcerate themselves.

The first cell next to the stairway was his destination. He withdrew the key to the cell from his inventory and unlocked it, peering inside. Normally, he would have looked through the window first, but by now he felt little need to worry about a potential escape by the inmate who seemed to reside here quite happily.

The cell's only occupant sat at a rickety old table in the far corner, reading a book by the candlelight. Upon hearing the door open, she looked up and gave Caenor a small smile.

"Evening, Vice-commander," said Wing, putting down the book.

"Hey. Sorry for disturbing you." Caenor sat on the bed, hoping not to make her too nervous. "What were you reading?"

Wing showed him the cover, letting its gold lettering glint in the dim candle glow. "A book on the history of Aincrad. I'm surprised… that they went to such lengths to expand the lore for this game. But that's… what makes this game great. History is important. It gives our lives meaning."

"You like history?"

Wing nodded. "I was… a history major. At university. I was meant to graduate in a few months."

"You're a university student?" Caenor raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "You look a lot younger than that."

A chortle escaped Wing's lips. "I'm not exactly the biggest person. I used to… get picked on a lot. When I was in high school, I had very few people I could call friends. Most of my time was spent… reading. Watching the world. Avoiding others. The only person I could trust… was my brother."

"He was in the same school as you?"

"Yeah. One year above me." Her face fell, and she clasped her hands together. "He would defend me, drive off the people bullying me, tell them to find something better to do with their time. At home… he would do the cooking when our parents stayed late at work. On the weekends, he would take me out… and get me to enjoy the world outside."

"Sounds like he's a great brother."

"He is. One day, he told me to try Sword Art Online with him. He… said I would enjoy it. I could find friends here, friends that I would never be able to find in the real world. People would not see me for who I used to be, but who I was, and who I could be. My brother has given me everything… including this game."

"And now Laughing Coffin have him."

Wing's eyebrows twitched, but she said nothing.

"What…" Caenor paused. "What would you do to get your brother back?"

For the first time since he had met Wing, she did not hesitate in her answer.

"Anything."

"Absolutely anything?" Caenor pressed. "Even killing those who have him? Even being forced to murder other players?"

"Anything," she repeated. She swiveled around in her chair, staring directly at him. In the fading, ochre illumination, her eyes were a searing green, her irises roiling as the candlelight danced and fluttered.

Caenor sighed. He had an idea of what he wanted to say next, but now that he was here, he was unsure if he meant to say it at all. He could already imagine his teammates' expressions. Foolish, foolish Caenor, doing something stupid again. Why would they ever follow a leader like him, especially if they were being sent to their deaths? He was not an autocrat – he ought to consult the others for their opinion first, even if he knew they would never agree. Yet the brutal truth of the matter was that he could not wait any longer. He needed more people, people who had that special something.

Motivation, yes. Skill, absolutely. But above all, he needed people who had it in them to kill. And there was no better way to get someone to shove their blade through someone else's heart than to tell them that their present victim had harmed the one they loved dearest.

"What weapon do you use?" he asked.

Wing blinked, clearly surprised by the change in topic. "Daggers."

"How high is your skill in them?"

"The maximum." Wing tilted her head quizzically. "Why?"

"Wow, impressive. I'm not sure how many of the others have maxed out their own weapon skills. I know Seki's almost there." He unconsciously put a finger to his mouth and chewed on the nail, deep in thought. "Cantabile is definitely going to kill me for this. Has anyone seen you in this cell? Do they know you're here?"

"Not… that I'm aware of."

"Good. Let's keep it that way." Caenor clapped his hands. "After tomorrow, you're going to live in the office. I'll get a bed from the guild treasury, and we already have plenty of other furniture there. I'll also have the office door lock swapped so that it locks both from the inside and the outside, so you still won't be able to move around that much. But at least it's a lot more comfortable than being down here, and you get a nice view of the city."

Wing frowned. "But… why?"

"From the day after tomorrow, you're going to come with us on our hideout raids. We'll test you out in some of the smaller safehouses first, just so that we can handle things if you end up backstabbing us. After that, if you help us with enough hideouts, then we'll know we can trust you. When we're done with the whole list, we'll let you go free. Sound fair?"

"I…" Realization dawned on Wing's face, and her features lit up, her beaming smile brighter than any lamp could hope to match. "Yeah. Yeah! I'll do it. Let me come with you."

Seeing her sudden joy, Caenor couldn't help but smile as well. Their team now had the prescribed minimum number of members they estimated would be required, and their operations were soon to commence in earnest. An unprecedented frisson of excitement shot up and down his back, and he had to resist the urge to pump his fists into the air. All his hard work, all the training, all the thinking and scheming… would finally become something substantial. Something worth fighting for.

He could only hope that circumstance would reward them for their efforts.