Epilogue 3 - As Above, So Below


Kibaou was not a man to be trifled with. In fact, he knew he had a temper, but it was one that could be backed up – certain people needed to learn to mind their words, and more importantly, pay for their actions.

Certain people like that bastard knight, for one.

He didn't know what made knights so insufferable, but it was his experience that anyone with that motif was bad news; Lind had always been a glory seeker, pretending to be noble, and the smug tone he took with almost everyone showed his perceived superiority above everyone else. An inaccurate way to look at it, he thought, as they were all stuck in this together. Why should anything but the strength you possessed give you a right to lead others?

Diavel was more affable, a far less smug and condescending character that he himself had followed initially; seeing value in what he was building with the original clearing team. It had only been after the near loss against Ilfang that Kibaou had seen Diavel for what he was – an opportunist. He'd taken his chance to play all three groups against each other; his ALS, the DKB and the ''Beater Squad'' as Joe had taken to calling them, in order to obtain the Guild Flag.

Whilst those two were just obnoxious, he'd found a hatred of the "Knight of the Wind" after the 25th Floor. That bastard Jet had left everyone to die, not even concerned to turn up in some vain effort to look like the hero... he'd let his little harem do it for him, and worse still, it had been his appearance that was used to draw them into that trap in the first place...

Needless to say, he intended to right the wrongs of the Dream Reaper. Chief amongst them was ending the existence of that miserable knight...

"Ah, you did come then." The first hooded man spoke as he stepped out of the treeline, almost surprised at his presence. "XaXa, you owe me 50 credits! Heh." He wasn't sure why, but he was already starting to regret his choice in associates. The hooded man was... well, there was no other way to describe it other than "insane".

"We did not bet on it, so you shall not receive anything but my blade to your trachea should you ask again." The second answered, a disconcertingly even tone in his voice as he threatened his ally.

"Awh, someone got out of bed the wrong side today..." The first laughed it off, as if the second, XaXa, wasn't reaching for his blade... "Still, the boss hears ya have a knight problem, Kibaou?"

"Ya ain't wrong. That bastard killed my whole guild."

"Tut tut, he's steppin' on our toes now!"

"Such treachery must be punished." XaXa stated.

"Yeah, well, whatever ya want from me, I have my limits." Kibaou began to explain, only to be interrupted.

"Oh, of course, a man of honour and decency, such as yourself, must have those..." If Kibaou had been a tad less angry, and a tad more intelligent, he might have detected the sarcasm in those words, and not treated it as a compliment.

"Yeah, well, just tellin' ya I ain't no pushover."

As he spoke, a third figure came out of the treeline. Taller than the other pair, and with a distinctive face, even though most of it was covered, he was almost certainly the leader of the group. "Oh no, no, Kibaou. You will be a valued member of our little group. For you see, we have a common enemy. The Knight of the Wind, as many so call him has made many allies... but also a good deal of enemies. You will understand when you meet Morte, that he is far from the hero he portrays himself as..." The wide grin on the man's face should've told him to run as fast as he could, but no, anger overrode such minor things as "common sense" and "self-preservation" in Kibaou's mind.

This was about revenge, and nothing else. No righteous crusade for justice, it was pure vengeance.

"Oh, Johnny, could you go and retrieve our leverage?" The first man, apparently named Johnny, nodded with a sick grin and disappeared into the treeline again.

"Leverage?"

"Oh, I assure you, it's nothing too mad. Just an insurance policy, you understand?"

He didn't, but then again, conspiracies were kind of a new thing to him too. "Er, right." He answered, trying not to look like a deer in front of a set of headlights.

After a few minutes, Johnny returned with appeared to be a very large sack in tow. Kibaou wasn't stupid; he seen enough shows to know that when the shady men who you were planning to do illegal shit with, came back with a burlap sack as big as they were... you may already be in too deep to get yourself out of.

"I'm afraid ta ask, but what's in the sack?" He asked, a rare display of savviness.

"Just our insurance." The taller man grinned, and Kibaou felt a shiver run down his spine. That was not the grin of someone stable, but rather that of a deranged killer who was about to kill him for even the most minor of infractions.

And yet, he stayed put, and even opened the sack himself for some reason known only to him. To his horror, the bag contained one blue haired knight, badly beaten and only kept on the razor thin line between life and death by some kind of poison...

"Yer sick, ya know that? Why not just kill him!"

"Oh, but where would be the fun in that?" The sadistic madman looked at him. "Of course, it does serve a pragmatic purpose too..."

"An' what'd that be?"

"To warn our new recruits." Kibaou suddenly felt himself hit with the weight of those words. This was far from a partnership, or hell, even an alliance... he'd joined a cult. A cult of murderers, sadists and other forms of evil... and he'd done it without even thinking.

Diavel, now only barely conscious and gagged with some rotten cloth, presented a pathetic image; far from that of the noble knight he sought to present to the masses, or even the fair guild leader he'd tried to present as head of the HoA. For once, he felt a sympathy towards his former leader, as he knew what would come next.

"So, now you understand what happens to those who displease us..." The man's grin became even more sinister – almost that of some kind of demon, masking itself in human form. "Kill him."

For once, the usual man of action that Kibaou was – one who espoused action first, thinking later as their primary way of living life – paused to think. He looked at his sword, and then at the bound Diavel in the dirt, and then back to his sword... he couldn't really do this, could he?

He wanted payback for his dead friends, he hadn't signed up to become a murderer on a whim!

The devil snarled at his pause. "Johnny, go and take them both. Go mad with them." He ordered, and Kibaou realised the grave reality of the situation.

Either he surrendered his soul, or his life... and he could live without a soul, he'd decided. A flash of light in front of him, and his soul was well and truly damned, as Diavel disappeared into pixels.

"Hm, perhaps there is something there." He commented, before snapping back to his earlier demeanour as they walked away. "I forgot, introductions: you can call me PoH. I'm your new boss now. I say jump, you say ''how high?''... understood?"

He didn't offer any form of answer, choosing instead to stand there in shock and disbelief at his own actions. Just what the hell had he done?

What devil had he just signed his soul over too?

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For someone who was dead, Strea was having a rather curious time.

Not only was she not dead (itself a rather large surprise to her), but she'd found herself somewhere that she was sure wasn't Aincrad anymore.

It wasn't the real world either, and she was fairly sure it wasn't heaven or hell either, as she still had a game menu of a kind; something that she hoped the afterlife didn't have!

Still though, that did leave the question open – just where the hell was she!

In a more literal sense, she was slap bang in the middle of a forest. A forest so dense, she could barely move three feet without stumbling over a branch the size of her arms, and so dense that the light only briefly found its way down through canopy before it went dark again.

The difficulty in getting around was made even more worse when she discovered she wasn't alone in the forest – plenty of monsters lurked around her too.

Some were quite small, and almost cute - one of them was barely two foot long and resembled a cat rather than anything particularly vicious. It had taken some self-restraint not to pet the monster, she would admit. Others were far less cuddly, such as what appeared to be bear covered in scaly armour, and with burning veins running across it.

The funny thing was, it almost resembled a prototypical version of the Fourth-Floor field boss, the Magnatherium, but with more armour and slightly more agile too. She'd discovered the latter part when she'd attempted to draw her sword to fight it, and discovered that, not only did she no longer have her sword, but she lacked any other weapons too, leaving just her fists and feet.

She may have been quite confident in her hand-to-hand abilities against other people... but a magma filled, and armour-plated bear?

Even she wasn't that arrogant!

Luckily for her, one of the skills she'd discovered she had when she'd ended up in SAO, a Hiding skill, was still active for her, so she was able to hide in the dense foliage, whilst the "Megatherium", as she'd christened it, got bored of looking for her and went off to do... whatever it was burning, armoured bears did.

"Okay, so... no weapons. This might actually be hell then." She muttered to herself, before looking around and taking stock of her situation. She was still in a forest, she still had no idea where anything was, she still had no weapons, and there was still a little girl clinging to her...

That last one was new.

"Umm, hi?" She asked.

"Is the bear gone?" The little girl asked. Strea wasn't one to judge, but there was something really odd about this girl – not only was she clinging to her as if she were her mother, but her eyes were something she'd never seen before.

Her pupils were two different colours each – the upper part was blue, whilst the lower part was a dark red colour. She'd seen heterochromia before; the condition caused each pupil to be a different colour, but never in the same eye...

"Yeah, I think so..." She answered, spotting the bear in the distance, rubbing itself against a tree. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Dorothy. Where am I?"

"I don't know, but I don't think you're in Kansas anymore, Dorothy..."

"What's a Kansas?" The girl answered innocently.

Strea paused for a moment, slightly taken aback. "Right. We should be looking for your parents, Dorothy..."

"They..." The girl fought back tears, and Strea understood instantly what that meant. Her parents were in the same boat as she was – dead. "They went to the Toymaker."

"Okay then..." Strea paused for a second, as she thought about her plan. In any other circumstance, she'd have made a beeline for anywhere that could tell her exactly where she was, but with Dorothy in tow, and absolutely no way of defending themselves, that was far too risky of a plan.

First things first, she needed a weapon.

Second things second, she needed to get Dorothy somewhere safe.

Lastly, she needed to work out where the hell she was!

All of that was soon interrupted by Dorothy shouting out. "The nasty lady's coming!"

"Eh?!" In the distance, she could just about see a white cloak through the foliage, and purple-oh. Well, it stood to reason that if she'd found her way here, then so had she, at least. Also, how good was this girl's eyesight if she could make out Mito at that distance! "Not nasty, just... a bit bitchy."

After a few seconds, the purple haired reaper had found them, and for once, seemed genuinely happy to see her... maybe she was right, maybe this was hell after all! "Oh, thank god, I'm not alone out here."

"Even in death, I'm stuck with you." She sighed, whilst Dorothy hid behind her legs. "It's alright Dorothy, she's... not a bad guy."

"Is there a reason you've adopted a young girl, or are you turning into your brother?" Mito asked, putting her scythe away.

"She's terrified. I couldn't just leave her there!"

"Why not, I did." Mito shrugged. For once, Strea understood her brother's disdain for the reaper. The girl who'd abandoned her best friend on multiple occasions and left her for dead... simply to save her own skin. The girl who'd chosen to become a mercenary, simply to make herself feel less shit about herself.

The girl who'd ignored a young child's pleas for help, in a forest full of monsters and hazards... "You really are heartless, aren't you?"

"Pragmatic. I can't fight and keep her safe too. You've seen my scythe's range; I'd be constantly watching out for her."

"I was wrong. Maybe you are the nasty lady, after all."

"Call me whatever you want to, you know I'm right."

"Yeah, well, we've got a few problems still. I'm unarmed, Dorothy's... wait, where is she?"

"That was the other reason I ignored her." Mito stated. "She had a tendency to wander off."

"You're still a heartless cow, you know that, right?"

"You really want to do this now? When you're unarmed..." Mito crossed her arms under her chest.

"Heh, it's cute you think I wouldn't have knocked ten bells out of you before you could even draw that garden tool of yours." She laughed.

"Arrogance runs in the family then, clearly."

"It's not arrogant when you know it's true."

"Stop it! Please!" Dorothy, having reappeared out of nowhere, stepped between the pair of them.

"Just... watch out for her, Dorothy. You never know when she might up and leave you..."

Mito said nothing in response, but the glare she received for that comment was nothing short of hatred in a single look...

This was going to be a long day, she realised.

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The town of Emstrey was a place of memories for many of the Assault Team. Granted, not many of them fond, and especially not after the Dream Reaper fiasco. Idly, Jet wondered whether calling it a ''fiasco'' was a bit too much of an understatement, given how many of members of ALS and DKB had given their lives during that battle, how close to dying he'd been and how close to losing Koharu they'd come. Needless to say, no one was too keen to repeat that particular battle any time soon...

Pedantry over naming conventions and understatements aside though, the town was also one that had clearly been stylised for the purposes of relaxation. The wide, clear blue waters that ran through the middle of the Low Town certainly had its share of players relaxing on the shore on a daily basis, whilst the spa in town had become the place to go for many players, and he honestly wondered just how much money the NPC owners were making, considering they charged 50 Col a go, and it seemed to be a never ending stream of people waiting outside the building...

The market in the High Town though was a different story - the hustle and bustle of the town kept any visitor to it on their toes, many of them looking for a bargain, whilst others simply looked around at the sheer variety of wares on display.

Today, that happened to include himself and Koharu, both of whom were currently enjoying their time off, and looking around for anything of interest. It was honestly impressive how so many things could be sold here, and yet, he thought, none of them were enough to pique his fancy. Based on the resigned smile on her face, he assumed it was a similar story for Koharu too.

''You wanna break for lunch? Can always come back later?'' He leant into her, mainly to make himself heard over the many, many voices in the marketplace.

''Sure. I'm getting a little hungry anyway.'' She answered, with a cheerful smile on her face. It was remarkable just how Koharu could keep smiling, even after everything she'd been through. She'd told him just what the Dream Reaper had put her through, and he wouldn't have wished that on his worst enemy - on anyone's worst enemy even!

Even if he knew exactly what Kayaba had intended for that boss... that had been a concept that should never, in any circumstances, have seen the light of day! The idea of a boss that had that specific set of abilities was an enemy best reserved for a game that heavily leant into psychological horror element, rather than Sword Art Online, he thought.

''You want to go to the café...'' Jet joked, to lighten his mood slightly. Koharu looked back towards him with a disbelieving look, and he would swear that he saw her face go green momentarily... ''Nah, just joking. Sandwiches?''

''Yep, down by the river?'' She asked.

''As mi'lday wishes'' He held out his hand in front of her, in the manner of a valet. She grinned, and took his hand before they headed off to the Low Town...

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Sat on the grass verges that lined the sides of the Leam, Koharu smiled as she watched the world pass them by. It was nice to get a chance to do something so peaceful, something that felt... well, normal. No battles, no grandstanding against enemies that were on an entirely new level when compared to them... just a couple doing romantic couple-y things. A question she'd always wondered came to her mind, and she reckoned she had the best person to ask, sat right there... ''Is it always like this?''

''Hm?'' Jet perked up, finishing off his sausage and egg sandwich.

''The towns this is based off, are they this peaceful?'' She asked, looking at a mother duck leading its ducklings along the river.

''Nah, there's usually traffic. Still pretty pleasant as long as you don't sit next to the bridge though.'' Jet answered, his attention seeming to wander as he talked. ''Though, where's the fun in just hearing about it from me?'' She thought about her answer for a moment. It was nice to hear the stories of another land from him, but he had a point - she wanted to experience it, not just learn about it. Before she'd had chance to answer though, he continued, ''When we escape this, I'll show you around the real place, buy you an ice cream from Knickerbockers, fish and chips by the Severn... How's that sound for a first date!'' He almost jumped up from the grass, his enthusiasm breaking through.

''Expensive!'' She replied with an equal amount of enthusiasm, before she burst out giggling and watching her boyfriend do the calculation in his head... and come to the same conclusion, his face dropping as he did so. She couldn't help but find it kind of cute how much he wanted her to see why he had such a soft spot for the place. ''Maybe we should go for a meal first?''

''Yeah, perhaps... on my life, though, Koharu - I promise you we will go and see the world together, one day.''

''I think I'd like that.'' She'd be the first to admit that, once they escaped Aincrad - and rest assured that they would escape, she'd told herself - she had absolutely no idea what she was going to do. When she'd asked her, Argo had guessed that it might take them the best part of three years to reach the top, and that was only a rough guess too, so it could be even longer. That hadn't filled her with a great degree of confidence, but that raised a few new questions to her... namely, what did she plan on doing afterwards?

By that point, she'd be past her teenage years at very least, and with only an incomplete education too, that was a limiting factor on any ambitions she had. Her ambitions as a gymnast would be on hold for a very long time, whilst she recovered from the muscular atrophy that would inevitably have set in over such a long period of inactivity, so that was an unlikely avenue to follow.

It sounded silly, but just having the ambition to travel was enough of a goal to work towards, in the meantime at least, that she felt happy to call it a plan.

Step one - Conquer Aincrad. Step two - See the world that her mom had always wanted to see! It wasn't a long plan, but it was certainly something to work towards!

Ping.

"Huh, it's from Argo?" She looked at her messages. "She says we're needed, all of us, immediately."

"That can't be good. She hasn't charged us for it..." He joked awkwardly.

/-/

If his nerves had been on edge before, they were now doing their best impression of the end of The Italian Job, where just the slightest movement would send them over the precipice and crashing into the abyss below.

The group that had gathered there was nearly all the survivors of the massacre that had been the floor boss, and those that were likely to replace the deceased members of the Assault Team. Noticeably absent however, were Kibaou and Diavel. The former, he reasoned was down to the sheer losses suffered by the ALS; after all, only Kibaou and Liten had survived the battle, so their effectiveness as a fighting force was massively reduced anyway.

The latter was strange, however. Diavel was, generally speaking, extremely punctual, and if something important was going on, he thought he would be the first here, not absent entirely...

Lind was the first person to speak up, taking the role of speaker at the meeting. "I expect you are all wondering why you've been gathered here, despite little progress being made. I wholly understand that is disheartening to hear, and that what comes next, will be even worse..." Lind dropped his head in sadness, and the pit in Jet's stomach began to resemble a cavern... "Diavel is dead."

The gathered players erupted into shock, as gasps and shouting filled the room. Had he just heard that right?

"Lind tells the truth. The Monument of Life confirms it too, and it also confirms something else." Heathcliff paused, and he genuinely couldn't tell if it was an ill-timed attempt to be dramatic, or because he was struggling with the next bit. "He did not die to any mob, nor boss... but rather another player."

He looked at Koharu and noticed the look of dread and anguish in her eyes, no doubt reminded of the 9th and 20th Floors, where they'd been attacked by player-killers. He thought on it for a moment and came to a worrying conclusion; their trail of the PKers that attacked them had gone dead shortly after the Twentieth Floor, and they'd failed to pick it up again.

"We have also received a message from someone, though none of us can understand it currently."

"Mind if we take a look?"

"Be our guests."

On the note were a series of musical notes, and some words written underneath them. Sheet music, perhaps?

"Whatever happened to all of the heroes? They watched their Rome burn..." Rain recited, recognising the words in part. "They're lyrics. There's a kind of... I don't know, poetry to them?"

Jet stopped to think for a moment, before thinking up a plan. "Rain, you told me you had perfect pitch, right?"

"Err, yeah?"

"Reckon you could hum those notes for me?" He asked, handing her the paper again.

"I'll try."

As Rain hummed the short snippet of the song, he managed to recognise it slightly more clearly. A song from the late 1970s, that he remembered his dad singing on a few occasions, though the name was still escaping him, despite being able to remember the lyrics almost perfectly. "No more heroes, anymore. No more heroes... goes the song."

"I think we can safely say the two are related then." Lind agreed. "But why attack Diavel though?"

"You want to take down a command structure, what's the first thing you do?" He asked quietly.

"Take out the lead-oh." Sanya realised.

This was not a situation he'd ever want to be in – they were fighting an adversary that, for all they knew, had no physical form. Hell, for all they knew, they were fighting the frigging Mysterons! At least then, they told the world of their plans in advance!

"I think someone just declared war on the frontliners, and the worst bit is that we have no idea who we're fighting right now..."