November 15th, 2024

[All clear here, Kirito. The console's gone, and none of the crazy machinery's doing anything anymore. Even those creepy gears have quit. Looks like the Foundry's completely shut down.]

Kirito read the message twice, just to be sure, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. [Thanks, Klein,] he typed back. [Get Fuurinkazan out of there. Access privileges change in twenty minutes, and you don't want to still be here when they do. It's going to get messy.]

[Yeah, that's one way of putting it. Don't be late yourself, you hear me? We need you. See ya back in the City of Beginnings, buddy.]

"All right," he said wearily, closing his menu. "Fuurinkazan's done their part, and they're heading home. Thinker made it back already. We'd better get moving, too."

"Agreed," Kizmel said softly. Though her eyes were dry, she was still plainly not at all recovered. It had been a trying day, to put it mildly, and while her news was good it was still an emotional strain. When she helped Kirito up from the chair he'd been sitting in entirely too long, he was supporting her just as much. "…I hope others understand your decision here, Kirito-kun."

"If they don't like it, they should've come up with a better idea before it got this bad," Kirito said bluntly, as the two of them turned to the stairs leading down from the magic crystal and the admin console. "I'll give Lind credit for being the cavalry, but the situation should never have gotten this bad in the first place."

"Can't disagree there," Philia groaned, falling in half a step behind them. "This was a really, really bad month. Having an army with us would've been nice."

Behind them, the admin console quietly vanished from existence, and Kirito felt tension ease out of his shoulders. He couldn't say he liked the course of action they'd chosen; the sheer possibilities inherent in having access to SAO's most basic functions were tempting beyond words. Even with the limitations Kayaba had built into it, the available options were downright dizzying.

But it's too dangerous, he thought, descending toward the Sanctuary's entrance with his companions. PoH was a step away from killing us all with it. Even somebody who didn't want to die might pull some nasty stuff. Reactivating the Foundry and letting Hollows into regular Aincrad, maybe….

So Kirito had pulled as much information as he could onto portable storage, from Kayaba's research notes to every scrap of information he could find about Kizmel and "artificial fluctlights". He'd reset the time differential between the Hollow Area and the Steel Castle to zero, and altered the Hollow Area's access rights. And then he'd told the admin console to simply delete itself.

On the one hand, it meant the loss of any information he'd missed, and any chance of hacking any kind of advantage to speed up clearing the last quarter of Aincrad. On the other, Kirito felt in his bones that the only way to make sure no orange Swordmaster—or just plain idiot—did anything stupid with that access was to outright remove any possibility of it.

Limiting access privileges to the Hollow Area just to select individuals might have worked. He was pretty sure he could've designated a list. But then, it wasn't supposed to be possible for any Swordmaster to reach the Hollow Area. He wasn't trusting Kayaba not to break something again. Better to hedge their bets than risk dying unexpectedly.

Kirito welcomed the silence, as he, Kizmel, and Philia left the Sanctuary behind and crossed the bridge back to the main landmass. It had been a long day. Long, grueling, and more than a little traumatic. He didn't want to think too hard about some of what he'd done. Crossing the bridge reminded him of Strea, and how Vanel had sacrificed herself to stop her programming-blinded sister; that was a safer thought than what he'd done to PoH, in the end.

It had been necessary. He was convinced of that. Kuze would've become an ordinary serial killer, returned to the real world. PoH, Kirito feared, might've become something far, far worse.

There's still hope for Strea and Vanel, he told himself, walking along the eerie, incompletely-textured path toward the mountain at the Hollow Area's center. They're programs. Sapient, but programs. They're not bound to the kill code players… and Kizmel… are. Even if their current avatars died, that may not be the end.

He noticed Philia shivering, as they neared the tunnel opening they needed. "Philia? You okay?"

The treasure hunter crowded a little closer, looking like she was thinking of grabbing his arm. "Sorry," she whispered. "Just… bad memories. I haven't come back here since that first night. Between PoH and Kuze, and the other me… sorry. This place really creeps me out."

"Fair." Kizmel fell back for a moment, just long enough to grab Philia's arm and link it through Kirito's left, before catching up again to wrap her own arm around his right. "Given my own experiences early this year, I believe I can imagine what you must've felt, my friend. It's never easy to question one's own existence."

Kirito found himself nodding, distantly surprised that he no longer found it odd to have a girl on each arm. He'd never personally had cause to doubt his own existence, but he thought questioning his relationships with everyone he'd ever known was at least vaguely similar.

At least my isolation was by choice, however stupid. Philia was stuck here.

That was one other thing he'd made sure to fix, before deleting the admin console: anyone who'd turned orange in the Hollow Area, he'd managed to revert to green. Whether that wrinkle in the Hollow Area was deliberate or part of the glitches that had given Laughing Coffin access to the area in the first place, he wasn't sure, and supposed didn't really matter.

It's over, Kirito thought, letting the girls lean on him and drawing just as much comfort from them in turn, as they walked the tunnel into the underground chamber. For us, at least. …I should ask Argo if there's a really good sword or something I can get Rain. And Asuna. Though I guess they're probably going to find the work its own reward, this time. If I weren't so tired, maybe I'd help.

Because there was a reason he'd changed the Hollow Area's access privileges exactly the way he had. It was a pain, and it had its own risks, but he'd seen a solution to a problem. After PoH, he was done playing nice. Rain and Asuna had agreed, and they'd gone on ahead with Argo and Lind to help set it up. With luck, they'd be able to handle the rest by themselves.

Asuna had insisted that Kirito focus on taking care of Kizmel and Philia, after their traumas. He wasn't going to disagree.

It was a tremendous relief to see the teleporter in the color-inverted chamber. Unguarded now, and shimmering with the blue of a proper teleport gate, it was the second most beautiful thing he'd seen in days. Kizmel and Philia clearly agreed, picking up the pace and dragging him right along with.

Kirito didn't resist. In seconds, they were almost running into the teleporter; then, without so much as a voice command, the world was disappearing in a bright blue flash, taking them away from the unfinished world and wailing music of the Hollow Area, the place Swordmasters were never intended to reach.

It was Rain's first time visiting the office at the top of the Black Iron Castle. She'd been busy helping put the KoB back together when Team Kirito had dropped by with Yulier. It pretty much matched what she'd pictured from Kirito's brief description, though: cold stone floor, a few rugs to break it up, and a huge iron desk by the narrow windows.

All in all, she was glad Castle Kreutzen was built on a more fairy tale aesthetic. The Aincrad Liberation Force's HQ was way too grim for her liking, even if it wasn't as bad the KoB's own previous headquarters in Granzam.

It was also her first time seeing Kibaou, one-time leader of the old Aincrad Liberation Squad and current rogue vice-commander of the ALF. She had plenty of time to take in his cactus-styled hair and unnaturally aged face, and how they clashed with his neat green uniform, as the opening discussion on this occasion wasn't really for her.

Kibaou was standing by those iron-framed windows when his three visitors came in. When he turned, it was with a grim, weary expression, not the bombast from Argo's tales of the man. "Thinker," he grunted. "Yulier. …Glad ta see ya made it back in one piece."

"No thanks to you," silver-haired Yulier began tensely, her arm tightening around her guildmaster's. "This was your fault in the first place—"

Thinker reached over to touch her shoulder, interrupting her tirade before it could pick up steam. He was still wearing the tattered ALF uniform he'd used throughout his time in the Hollow Area, but he was otherwise looking much better than the haggard, despairing man Rain had first met in Silver Moon Castle.

"Fortunately," he said, inclining his head to his rebellious vice-commander, "I wasn't in much danger for most of my time down there. Though I admit, it was a bit embarrassing not to be able to play a role in shutting down Laughing Coffin's scheme. I was told quite firmly I would only have been in the way."

"Hmph. I get that feelin', believe me." Kibaou left the window, walking over to the desk. He didn't quite move to the chair, though, pausing next to it instead. "…So what now? My turn ta spend time in the dungeons?" He snorted bitterly. "Hell of it is, I couldn't even blame ya. Everythin's gone crazy out there. All fer nothin'." He sighed, lowering his head. "All fer nothin'…."

"Much as you may deserve it," Thinker said evenly, a flicker of anger tightening his face for just a second, "right now, I think that would be counterproductive. I learned one thing, spending almost two subjective months in the Hollow Area, Kibaou: we can't let ourselves be bogged down by infighting. We need to clear the game, as soon as possible."

Kibaou lifted his head again, eyes narrowing. "Nice speech, Thinker," he drawled. "But I dunno how many people are gonna listen." He gestured out the windows, at the streets of the City of Beginnings. Streets, Rain knew, that still had patrols of rogue Army men causing a ruckus and "taxing" people whenever and wherever they thought they could get away with it. "I got 'bout a thousand people who didn't turn out ta be griefers. Ganelon's got two thousand just waitin' ta be th' biggest orange guild in th' game. How ya gonna stop that?"

"By taking the gloves off." Rain finally stepped forward. Drawing on every bit of dignity she'd seen from Asuna and Kizmel and all the theatrics she'd witnessed from Kirito, she gave a bow. "Vice-Commander Rain, of the Knights of the Blood. Along with the DDA, we're taking a little time off clearing the frontlines to clear up the First Floor, and put every wannabe highwayman in prison."

Thinker and Yulier hadn't heard about that yet, and she could feel the funny looks they were giving her. Kibaou, though, looked at her liked she'd grown an extra head. "I always thought Commander Asuna was smarter than that," he said, eyeing her carefully. "An' I know Lind wasn't that crazy, last I knew 'im. Ya do know the Black Iron Castle hasn't got room for two thousand prisoners, 'Vice-Commander'?"

She let the implied insult slide. There would be time to drill a little respect into his pointy head later. "Who said anything about the Black Iron Castle?" she said innocently. "There's a much bigger prison available. All we need are a Corridor Crystal or two, and we can punt the troublemakers out of the way until we're all out of here."

"The Hollow Area," Thinker said slowly, giving her a wary look of his own. "But it's not impossible to escape from there, and between the Foundry and the Sanctuary—"

"The Foundry is shut down," she told him. "And Kirito disabled all access from the Sanctuary. While he was at it…." She walked over to the windows, past Kibaou, red hair streaming behind her. "Before he deleted the admin console, Kirito reset access privileges. Once he and Kizmel are out, the teleporter beneath the Black Iron Castle will be the only access point—and it's one-way from now on. Anyone who goes into the Hollow Area won't be coming back without logging out."

Dead silence. Rain had expected that. She could see Kibaou, Thinker, and Yulier all working through the implications of that, and calmly waited. It's not nice. It's downright nasty. But we can't afford "nice" anymore. Almost four thousand people are dead, and we still have a quarter of the Steel Castle to go.

We have to end the crime wave. Now.

"If… if I'm understanding correctly," Yulier said, a quick glance at Thinker suggesting they were on the same track, "you're suggesting trapping thousands of people in the Hollow Area. Thousands of criminals. Even if Kirito-san was able to set it as a Safe Haven, there's still the potential for being pushed off the edges…."

"'Potential', hell," Kibaou muttered, frowning deeply. "I know some of the guys goin' nuts out there. Not ta mention th' PKers we got locked in the basement. Ya do this, people are gonna die, Vice-Commander."

Figures that it took something like that to get him to call her that honestly. Rain ignored that, too, and gestured sharply toward the window. "Do you think we don't know that?" she demanded. "But look at it. All of you! How many people have already died because we didn't take a stand? It took three hundred murders before the clearing group launched the Laughing Coffin Crusade."

A crusade she remembered all too well, in her nightmares. Especially how many of the crusaders had died because, even then, they still hadn't been able to bring themselves to fight to the death. She still carried a sword once wielded by a Divine Dragon who'd died that way.

"It has to end, guys," she said quietly, forcing herself to remember that day. She owed it, to the living and the dead, to remember the lives she'd taken with her own blade. "In this world, there's no laws but what we make ourselves. No justice but what we can enforce with a sword. And I say it's better to risk killers tearing into each other than letting them at innocents."

"You're suggesting we choose who lives and who dies," Thinker said, very quietly. He walked, unsteadily, over to the desk; it was probably a sign of just how grim the mood had gotten that Kibaou moved to let the older man have the chair. "Vice-Commander. I'm not sure that's a line we should be crossing."

"We already have," Rain said bluntly. "Every time we stand back and say we can't do anything without crossing the line, we choose to let them kill. And I… can't do that anymore, Guildmaster. At least this way, it's just the criminals. It's not pretty, but it's better than letting them prey on innocent players."

She was not ready to think about how her own society would think of it. She was painfully aware that SAO was changing her, even if she hadn't become a murderer like Laughing Coffin's maniacs. That this was the least extreme action she was willing to take gave her the shakes, sometimes.

Not often enough for her comfort, lately. Rain was guiltily thankful she hadn't been involved in the last battle with PoH. Though none of the three who had been had given many details, she could make guesses based on Kirito's demeanor after. She didn't want to know how many nightmares he'd be having. Too many, or not enough…?

Thinker closed his eyes and sighed. "You make a convincing argument, Vice-Commander. I don't like it, but then I've never had to make the hard choices."

"Believe me, it doesn't get any easier," Kibaou snarked. Sitting on the edge of the iron desk, arms folded, he raised an eyebrow. "Hell with it. She's got a point, an' if this was Blackie's idea—which I bet it was—it's a good one. Thinker, we got Corridor Crystals in th' guild inventory. I say we give 'em out."

Yulier moved to stand by Thinker's shoulder, and frowned at him. "I don't think you're in a position to say that now, Kibaou."

"No, he's right. Yes," Thinker added, raising a placating hand, "this is largely his fault, but I meant what I said. There's no time for infighting now. Which is also why," he continued, looking back at Kibaou, "we need to have a long talk. Another thing I realized down there is that you weren't entirely wrong, Kibaou. We need to—"

There was a knock at the office door. "'Scuse me," a muffled voice called. "This a bad time?"

Yulier frowned. "Isn't that…?"

Kibaou groaned, facepalming. "Oh, no. You guys brought in the Rat. Thinker, I give up. If you're gonna sic her on me, I think I'd rather be in the dungeon after all…."

Kizmel had been to the City of Beginnings three times before, in the year and a half she'd traveled as Kirito's partner. In that time, she'd only visited the Black Iron Castle once, and had had precious little opportunity to take it in; she and her companions had been in too much of a hurry to confront Kibaou, that day. Kirito, she knew, preferred to avoid the fortress entirely, if only because of what lay within its entrance hall.

Stepping into that entrance hall again, this time not distracted by any urgent need, she did take a moment to look around. A huge empty space, rivaling even the grandest Lyusulan fortifications, the foyer was lit by deep blue torches, casting their light over a black stone floor. Nothing whatsoever distinguished it otherwise save rows of marble pillars, doors like the one from which she'd just emerged—and a ten-meter-wide cenotaph in the center.

All was quiet. Kibaou had, at least, secured control of the Castle, and if all went to plan the subjugation of his rebellious subordinates would bypass the fortress entirely. In that moment, the only sound was the ringing of Kizmel, Kirito, and Philia's boots on the stone floor.

The last time Kizmel had been here, she had only caught a glimpse of the cenotaph. Now, perhaps because of the recent battle in the Hollow Area, or perhaps due to seeing again the prisoners held in the dungeons, she found herself drawn to it. To truly look, with her own eyes, at the proof of every Swordmaster's existence, the one thing that remained even after their bodies vanished from the world.

Kirito followed her lead, despite the aversion she knew he felt for it, as did Philia. Perhaps, she reflected, they too needed a reminder.

The Monument of Life. Ten thousand names were inscribed upon it, representing each of the Swordmasters, the players who'd fallen prey to Kayaba Akihiko's cruel game, who had been trapped in Aincrad. Or had been chosen for it, at any rate. It had once occurred to Kizmel to wonder, given the nature of games, if in fact all ten thousand had been diving into the Steel Castle that fateful day. Her dear friend Asuna had once confided to her that she herself had only had the chance to come because her brother had been otherwise occupied that day. How many others might similarly have been delayed?

Kirito, never having considered the question, had eventually admitted he didn't know. Argo, when asked, had not even charged for the answer, noting that it was impossible to know without effectively conducting a census of the entire surviving population. Even for her, investigating over six thousand people was a bit beyond her abilities.

For now, Kizmel contented herself with the names she did know. Kirito drifted off, with heavy steps, toward the "M" section, and Philia wandered to another area, the elven Knight made her way toward the far right of the Monument. To the names under the Roman letter "S".

[Sasamaru], the name under her trembling fingertips read, with a neat line crossing it out. [September 2, Slashing Damage].

Sasamaru… I still regret your death. Yet, terrible as it is, I will never forget the choice Kirito made that day. I am so very, very sorry.

Leaving the fallen Black Cat's name behind, Kizmel slipped back to the left, pausing a moment to rest a reassuring hand on Kirito's shoulder. She knew the name on which he was focused, and resolved to speak to him about it when evening came. In the meantime, she had one more of her own of which to remind herself.

[Hafner] was a name she found easily enough. [January 12, Slashing Damage].

She still had no idea why the Divine Dragon had taken a blow meant for her, in the process falling to Vemacitrin. It was one of her great regrets, that she'd never gotten to know the man well enough to even guess. Reminding herself of his sacrifice, however, helped ground her, and remind her why she fought on. Almost four thousand Swordmasters had died, with no second chance such as she had been given. She was duty-bound to remember them, and fight on.

I nearly wasted his sacrifice, when I fought Kayaba. I will not repeat that mistake. It is our duty, that of we survivors, to live on. To see the end of this world. Sasamaru, Ducker, Tetsuo. Hafner, Wolfgang, Beowulf, Krueger… you all fought, and died, for the sake of escape from the Steel Castle. We must survive, or your deaths will have meant nothing.

Kizmel's heart trembled at the thought, somewhere between terror and euphoria. When those brave Swordmasters had died, one of them for her, her departure from Aincrad had only been a wild hope. Today, finally, she had solid reason to believe she would see the Steel Castle's end, and then the world beyond it. However she had come to be, her existence was no more tied to the world of Sword Art Online than the human Swordmasters.

However it came to be, I am… the same as they are. That I may have no body of my own is all that separates us, and Kirito seeks to bridge even that gap.

A terrifying, wonderful thought. At long last, she knew Kirito and Klein had been right, months ago: she was no mere doll. Oh, she'd believed them, seeing the evidence. Believed that they believed it. Yet now she knew, and… she'd almost forgotten what it was like, not to have that question nagging at the back of her mind.

"Huh." Kirito's grunt, carrying an undertone of concern, cut through Kizmel's reverie. "If there was any doubt left, Philia's name isn't crossed out here. But PoH's name… isn't crossed out, either. It's burned out. There is a date and cause of death, though." His voice flattened; Kizmel didn't have to look to know his expression had likewise gone blank. "November 15, Decapitation."

She really was going to have to give him special attention when night fell. There was no question in her mind that Kirito had done the right thing, however helpless PoH had been in the moment. There was also no question in her mind that if it did not trouble him, at least a little, he would not be the man she loved.

Though I am concerned as to what may be meant by this. His body, too, burned away rather than shattering. Going by the rules of Kayaba's game, he must have died… but is that truly the end? Grimlock's Hollow experiments do make me wonder….

"Hey… guys?" Philia's low, awed whispered carried easily through the Black Iron Castle's still air, interrupting Kizmel's disquieting thoughts. "You remember the extra names in the account registry? …There's more than ten thousand names here, too."

What?

Kizmel hurried over to where the treasure hunter stood toward the Monument's center, while Kirito approached from the other direction. "That can't be right," she heard him mutter. "Okay, I doubt anybody ever tried to count them all, but still. The registry's one thing, but the Monument wasn't even generated until the log-out was disabled. There's no reason to include betas who never got the full…."

He trailed off, as Philia traced one name, slowly running her fingers over each letter in turn.

[Kizmel].

"I checked under 'T', too," Philia said softly, meeting Kizmel's bewildered gaze. "Tilnel's name is here, crossed out. I think… maybe, you were both on here from day one. Just, the only people who cared to look never wanted to see the Monument at all." She shrugged, when Kirito shot her a sharp glance. "Face it. Most clearers haven't come down here much in years. Who else would even know the names? Most people around here only know about Asuna, if they know any clearer's name at all."

"…You have a point," Kizmel whispered, staring at her own name on the cenotaph. At the name, and at what was written below it.

[November 8, Stabbing Damage].

She felt no real fear. Not seeing the cause of death crossed out instead of her name, and not knowing that Kayaba himself—who, for all his sins, was not a liar—had stated she was alive. Having seen the realities of the constructed world, and heard Kayaba's own comments about having forgotten the Divine Stone of Returning Soul even existed, she thought it more likely that the Monument had simply never been designed with revival in mind.

No. Kizmel was not afraid, seeing her name, nor seeing a date and cause of death listed below. She felt anger, and no small confusion. She did not understand why Kayaba had made her and her sister as he had. He had done what even Kirito considered impossible, copying the soul into a human-forged vessel. He had brought her and Tilnel up as his own daughters, with an awkward but seemingly genuine care at odds with the inhumanity he displayed as Aincrad's cruel master.

He even recorded our names on the Monument of Life, as with the human Swordmasters. As if we were always meant to be part of their world, as much as this one.

"Then why," she breathed, to herself, to the "father" ten kilometers above, "did he give us only the powers of NPCs, and leave us to die in an ordinary quest….?"

Kizmel didn't realize she was tearing up until Kirito's half-gloved finger brushed her cheek to wipe her tears away. "I don't know," he murmured, easily following her thoughts, pulling her close. "We'll ask him, though. We'll cut him down, and we'll drag the answers out of him."

"…Yes." Blinking away what tears remained, she leaned into his embrace, and turned her gaze to the ceiling, and to the Ruby Palace high beyond it. "Yes, we will. If he wanted us to grasp the answers with our own hands, we will. Even if it means grasping him by the throat."

She heard a strangled noise, like a stifled snicker, from Philia. Then the treasure hunter cleared her throat, and gently gripped her shoulder. "We sure will. But if it's all the same to you guys, I don't really wanna think about death anymore today." She nodded toward the Black Iron Castle's gates, and the red-armored group just pushing them open—and the woman in green among them. "Not everything that happened down there was people dying, y'know?"

Griselda wasn't altogether surprised to see three people already standing by the Monument of Life, when she and Fuurinkazan walked into the Black Iron Castle. Though she was uncertain exactly how things had played out at the Sanctuary, it wasn't hard to guess the kind of trauma that had been involved.

Not so different from mine, likely. Given that that elf girl's apparently been facing much the same questions I am now.

At some point, she hoped to have a proper talk with Team Kirito. The way Klein always talked about them, she was sure they were fascinating people. In that moment, though, she was sure they had their demons to face, just as she had hers. Letting Klein keep her steady, she walked toward the left side of the Monument, where the two names she sought would be.

At least it was getting easier to walk. With each passing hour, Griselda grew more accustomed to having a solid form again. In another day or so, she was sure she wouldn't need assistance to keep her balance.

She welcomed that assistance now, and the silent company of the red-armored guild behind her. Fuurinkazan had needed to batter their way through a contingent of Army players on the way to the Castle, a task she wasn't remotely up to yet. It was a relief to have them with her, even if it had been Vice-Commander Rain's people who had stormed out of the Castle to round up the Army men in the end.

That behind them, none of them broke the silence. Griselda was grateful. Soon, she thought, she would want to talk, but for just these few moments….

Stopping by the "G" section of the Monument of Life, she had to take a moment to steel herself. To close her eyes, and take a deep breath. Then, finally, she peered at the cenotaph, scanning the list of names until she found the first one she sought.

[Grimlock], read the letters under her trembling fingers. [November 15, Incineration].

Griselda bowed her head, and tried not to cry. Given the nature of the Hollow Area, and the Foundry itself, she hadn't been sure. Grimlock hadn't been a clearer, yet even he would likely have survived a fall of the depth she thought that twisted forge had reached. If it had merely been a matter of distance, he might well still have lived.

Incineration. Whatever mechanisms the forge had used to create Hollows, it had been volatile. …At least it was quick.

Yuuya had murdered her. Griselda still would never have wished prolonged suffering on him. He had, she thought, inflicted more than enough hell on himself. Now all that remained was to mourn him, and the man he had—or she thought he had—once been.

It hurt. It was going to hurt for a long time. Yet she'd begun to accept that months before, when first she realized who had orchestrated her death. Now she knew for certain it was over, and she could begin to move on. The question was, move on to what?

Her fingers traced further down, to a name beginning with the very same syllable. [Griselda], it said. [January 4, Decapitation].

Griselda winced at the words, and found herself leaning back against Klein. She'd been asleep at the time, only coming to consciousness in ghostly form afterward, and only regaining any true coherence hours or days later. She'd never known the exact manner of her death. The idea that she'd been essentially executed turned her stomach, and sparked a spike of rage at her husband.

Klein's hand settled on her shoulder, gently squeezing; she was surprised when a smaller, slimmer hand gripped the other. "It's over, Griselda," Sachi whispered. "His plan, Laughing Coffin… it's all over now."

She took a deep breath, fighting back a sob. The younger girl was right. And if anyone knew a fraction of what she was feeling, it would have been the former Black Cat. Though the betrayal Sachi had suffered hadn't been as personal, losing her guild to a Laughing Coffin plot wasn't so different.

"Besides," the other girl continued, voice turning very thoughtful. "…I wouldn't be so sure it's over for you, Griselda." She reached past Griselda's arm, and touched the name etched in the cenotaph's stone. "This… isn't like how the others are. Not quite."

Blinking away tears, Griselda looked closer, and soon saw what Sachi meant: while her name was crossed out, the line was… flickering, somehow. Glitched.

"Huh," Klein grunted, leaning over her shoulder to see for himself. "That's… different. I wonder if Kirito knows anything…? Nah, probably not. Damn. We should've asked him to check your account info before he nuked the admin console…."

"We could at least talk to Kumari, though," Lux put in, crowding in herself. The green-haired girl looked a bit sheepish, when attention turned to her, but she gamely pressed on. "Or track down… um, I think it was Caynz and Yolko? Or Schmitt. I'm sure at least one of them checked the Monument back when Griselda first, well, died." She raised her hands, palm-up. "They would've noticed if it was like this then."

"Girl's got a point," Dale noted thoughtfully. Griselda glanced back at him, noting with some relief that his arm had finished growing back. Though she'd spent a fair bit of time fighting herself, before her murder, she'd never actually seen the Limb Loss effect before. "Won't tell us much, but at least we'd know if something's changed, right?"

And this was why she'd spent so much time around Fuurinkazan, since first encountering Sachi on the Fifty-Seventh Floor. They were as big a collection of oddballs as Griselda had ever known, but they were also the most reliable people she could imagine. Their dynamic, having happily taken in Sachi and Lux and made them their own, reminded her of Golden Apple, before everything had gone wrong.

Like Golden Apple… but healthier, she thought, looking at them each in turn. Even if I never saw it at the time, Yuuya's despair was always there. Kuze was always a little too hungry for a fight, even before he murdered me. Schmitt… he was even more terrified than Yuuya. Kumari never quite found her fit, I think. Krueger, Caynz, and Yolko may have been the only ones really comfortable.

Griselda envied that. And so, turning away from the Monument of Life, she pulled out of Klein's steadying grip, gathered herself, and bowed. "Klein, everyone… I don't know who, or what, I am now. But I want to fight again. To help get everyone out of this game, before it kills all of us. My guild is gone, and I hardly think myself fit to be a guildmaster, after missing two murderers in my midst." She got that out with only a slight hitch. "So… may I join you? Join Fuurinkazan?"

The forest of grins that sprang up was a relief. Even if one or two of them were a bit too knowing for her liking. "We've been waiting for you to ask, Griselda," Dynamm said, stroking his pirate's mustache with a smirk. "We're already a guild of misfits. We've got two strays already, what's one more?"

"Excuse me?" Sachi folded her arms, casting a mock-stern look his way. "Who are you calling a misfit, you pirate?"

"If we weren't misfits, we wouldn't be here," Klein told her, reaching out to ruffle her hair. Then he turned a bright grin on Griselda, and swept into a formal bow of his own. "Of course, Griselda. We'll be glad to have you. Dynamm's got one thing right: it's kind of our thing to take in people who have nowhere else to go. Ever since the night Kirito and Kizmel brought Sachi to our door."

Griselda sagged, from the effort at keeping her body steady and from relief. She'd expected the response, of course, she'd seen enough of Fuurinkazan over the past months to be sure they wouldn't reject her. It was still a comfort for it to be made official. Because Klein was right: she had nowhere else to go. I want to start fresh. Yuuya is gone, and so is… whatever we really had. Half of Golden Apple has died, at one time or another. I need to move on.

Though Dynamm and Klein did make her wonder about one thing, and she glanced curiously at the trio still standing by the center of the Monument. "A guild for those with nowhere to go," she murmured. "Klein… you've obviously known Kirito for a long time. Why isn't he…?"

"Part of Fuurinkazan?" Klein followed her gaze, expression turning somber. "Kirito… has baggage. About people, and responsibility. It's kind of a long story, and involves him being too hard on himself, but… I would never push. He had his reasons for going alone, back in the day. By the time he started to come out of it, he'd found Kizmel, and found his own way."

"We'd welcome them both in if they ever asked," Sachi said quietly. "And Philia, too. But…."

"It's not their style," Klein finished, nodding. "What they've got works, though. As long as Kirito has Kizmel, and she's got him, they'll be fine. Philia, I still don't know as well, but I get the impression her place is with them, too."

There were stories there, Griselda was sure. A lot more than Klein or Sachi was saying. Having heard rumors about the Black Swordsman and his Dark Elf partner even before her death, she wasn't too surprised. Sometimes, I get the feeling we're not all living quite the same world here… but that's all right. We're all pushing for the same goal, now.

"They ever want in a guild, we'll be here." Klein's lips quirked in a fond smile. "Don't see that happening any time soon. But now that I think about it, I think it's about time we all got away from all this death stuff for a bit." He nodded toward Team Kirito. "How about we round them out and head into town? There's some people I want to check on, and I think you and Kizmel could really use a visit with 'em. Remind you what we're all really fighting for."

Walking down the City of Beginnings' streets was at least a little less tense than the last time. Oh, sure, Team Kirito and Fuurinkazan made for a pretty conspicuous group, which recently would've made for a tempting target for the rogue Army Swordmasters. There was a reason Kirito had preferred a smaller group, when they'd gone in to confront Kibaou. This time, though, he didn't think there was much to worry about.

As the group of twelve made their way down the City's central avenue under the light of the setting sun, Kirito could clearly hear sounds of violence, near and far. Swords clashed, people screamed, and the occasional sounds of breaking glass heralded—in a Safe Haven—armor and weapons shattering to pieces. There were quite the brawls going on, from the sound of it, much more overtly than during his last visit.

This time, though, it's the Army getting pasted. Guess they didn't learn from when we went all Musou on them last week.

"Vice-Commander Rain wasn't kidding when she said she was going to clean up," Griselda observed, glancing down a side street just as an Army patrol went tumbling down it like so many bowling pins. "I didn't think the KoB even had this many teams…."

"I believe she called in backup from the DDA," Kizmel told her, arm wrapped around Kirito's as they walked. "Guildmaster Lind apparently made only a token protest about needing to focus on the frontlines, before sending Schmitt and at least thirty others to help out. I think perhaps he's finally realized clearing is not quite all that's needed to make sure as many of us escape this world as possible."

Us. Kirito couldn't quite suppress a grin, hearing her say that with confidence. They still had questions for Kayaba, about the circumstances of her creation, but now they at least knew her existence was one that could—and would—survive the end of the death game.

Aloud, he said, "He was probably just waiting for an excuse, anyway. I don't think he and Kibaou ever really got over their rivalry; the Twenty-Fifth Floor Boss broke it off before they could settle it for real. Now he can't go after Kibaou directly, so he's probably taking what he can get, beating up the idiots Kibaou riled up."

Lind was probably pacing up a storm in his guildhall, wishing he could do it personally. Though if Kirito knew him, he was also probably reveling in the chance to "be the better man" by not making it "personal". Some things never change.

"It still sounds pretty hairy out here," Klein noted, using the hand that wasn't carefully steadying Griselda to loosen the Suzaku Blade in its scabbard. "We'd better get moving. I don't trust these idiots not to do something stupid while they've got nothing to lose."

Kirito grimaced, and had to concede the point. He'd just hours before had an up close and personal look at what people were like when they'd decided they weren't winning either way. He didn't even have to look at Kizmel to know she'd had much the same thought.

Acting on unspoken consensus, the group sped up, leaving the central avenue behind in favor of side streets that led more directly to their destination.

The sun had almost completely set by the time they did reach the appropriate street. Kirito's stomach clenched, hearing the sounds of Sword Skills going off from exactly where he'd most feared, and he broke into a run. Closely trailed by the others, he turned one last corner—and skidded to an abrupt, surprised stop.

"And don't ever come back, you hear me?! The clearing guilds are here, and they won't be as nice as I am!"

One last man in gray and green was blasted back by a Horizontal Square. He was quickly dragged to his feet and pulled away by two other Army men, who just as quickly scurried away. Watching them leave, sword leveled, was just about the last person Kirito ever expected to see.

Brown hair and eyes. Brown armor, of a style Kirito hadn't seen even on mid-level players in well over a year. In those brown eyes, dark shadows and a weariness that belonged to a much older man. Why he was guarding a certain church, Kirito couldn't even begin to guess.

He felt Kizmel stiffen. Saw Klein's jaw set angrily. And Sachi… she let out a strangled gasp. "Keita…?" she choked out, hand reaching toward him despite the five meters still between them.

Keita, the only other survivor of the Black Cats of the Full Moon, started. His eyes flicked over to her, then to Kizmel, and finally Kirito himself. The steely determination he'd shown to the Army Swordmasters vanished, his face paling, sword hand shaking. He opened his mouth as if to say something. Closed it. Open it again.

Spun on his heel, and fled into a nearby alley, almost dropping his sword in the process.

Into the silence that followed, Griselda carefully cleared her throat. "I… take it you know him? Some of you, at least?"

"…I went to school with him, IRL," Sachi whispered, staring into the dark alley. "He was… the leader of our guild, here in SAO. Of the Black Cats." She swallowed. "That's the first time I've seen him since… since we…."

Klein shifted on his feet, clearly about to say something unkind. Kirito quickly quelled him with a Look, silently reminding him that whatever Keita had done since, Sachi did not need to hear about it.

Even if I want to chase after him and punch him in the face myself, for what he did to Kizmel. That was eight months ago. A lot's changed since then. It's over. And Keita… it looks like he's at least doing something with himself now. I won't rush into things.

Another awkward silence had fallen, only to be broken by the door of the church Keita had been guarding swinging open. A college-aged woman with blue hair stepped cautiously out. "That's odd," Sasha muttered, glancing around. "I thought I heard fighting, and Keita… oh?" Spotting Team Kirito and Fuurinkazan, her eyebrows went up. "Well, well! I didn't expect to see any of your around here just now. Not that I'm complaining! Ah… I don't suppose you saw Keita around?"

"We did," Kizmel said carefully, giving Sasha a respectful nod. "Though we certainly did not expect to. …Perhaps we might talk inside? I fear we've all had quite a long day."

"Don't worry," Philia put in, seeing dinner preparations going on through the door behind Sasha. "We brought extra food!"

"All right, everyone, settle down. There's plenty of food for each of you; don't be greedy, now!"

"Hey, watch it! It's gonna spill if you keep that up!"

Watching the chaos around the dining room tables, Kizmel couldn't help but marvel at it all, nearly as surprised as when she'd first learned of the place. An orphanage. I never even suspected the Swordmasters had such a thing. Even as long as I've known how many of them are children forced to grow up too fast, it never even occurred to me that they would've had need for one.

"Sensei! Ginn stole my egg!"

"Oh, c'mon! I traded you my carrots for it. It's fine!"

The building that Sasha and her young charges had taken over seemed to be a church. Smaller than the cathedral to which she'd once fled in her own turmoil, it was still one of the larger buildings in the City of Beginnings' eastern district. More than large enough, it seemed, to house the twenty or so children Sasha had just let loose on two long tables full of food.

"I had no idea there were so many children among the Swordmasters," Kizmel murmured to Kirito, as Sasha dragooned Philia and Fuurinkazan into helping organize lunch. "Even after what you and Sachi told me, over a year ago now, I had thought you were all at least of an age to properly wield a sword."

"So did I," her husband whispered back; to her amusement, he was sticking very close to one wall, as far from the fuss and bother as possible. "SAO was rated for fifteen-and-up. Silica's the youngest Swordmaster I've ever run into, and I don't think she's that young. Not that I ever asked, now that I think about it…."

She did a quick mental equation, and came to the realization that Kirito himself would've technically been too young for the "game" her world had been sold as. Allowing herself a faint smirk—just enough to confuse her husband—she kept the conclusion to herself. He was, after all, more mature than his age suggested. And if he hadn't ignored that "rating", he and I would never have met.

Kizmel's mirth faded, though, at Kirito's next words. Watching with shadowed eyes as Sasha and her impromptu helpers ensured the food was more or less evenly distributed among the rambunctious children, he said softly, "Just when I can almost forget how bad this world is, this reminds me that Kayaba didn't spare anybody from his death game."

A chill ran down her spine at that, and she wasn't entirely subtle in leaning into Kirito's warmth. No, Kayaba had not discriminated with his trap at all. He had deceived adults and children alike, few of whom understood what it was to fight for their lives, into completing his "world". He had made no allowances even for the most helpless, in pursuit of making his world real.

Not even for his own daughter. …Why…?

Kirito's hand found hers, and squeezed gently. "They're making the best of it, though," he breathed into her ear. "Look. They're all having fun, don't you think?"

Taking another look at the chaos, at the way the children laughed and squabbled among themselves, at Klein playfully engaging in a tug-of-war with a young boy over a banana, only to be elbowed by an exasperated Sachi, Kizmel felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders. Seeing Philia deftly using her Swordbreaker to chop vegetables in a truly over-the-top display took another fraction of weight off her, seeing the girl who'd clung to her and Kirito in such desperate loneliness when they'd caught up with her in the Hollow Area back to some semblance of her usual self.

Griselda helped where she could, gingerly but with confidence increasing moment to moment. She was clearly using the dinner preparations to help accustom herself to her new body. Klein kept an eye on her, even as he indulged the children, yet kept a careful distance. If Kizmel knew him, he was making sure he was on hand if she needed help, but not so close as to imply she was an invalid. The two of them, Kizmel mused, were also making their own way in the world, after the traumas in the Hollow Area.

Kayaba does not define this world. Whatever he did, it is up to us to choose how we face it.

By the time all the food had been passed around, and her team had settled with Sasha at another table, Kizmel was more or less relaxed again. "Is it like this at every meal?" she asked the blue-haired woman.

"Every day, every meal," Sasha replied, with a sigh and a fond—if exasperated—smile. "I try to tell them to be quiet and mind their manners, but you know children." She glanced at Kizmel, or rather at the elf girl's ears, and blinked. "Ah… do you know children, Kizmel-san?"

Ah, yes. When last they'd met, there had been no time to explain the oddities of her own existence. Not that I had much better an idea that she, at the time. …I'm not certain I do now.

"They are one thing your people and mine have in common," Kizmel assured her, smiling wryly. "And to answer your other question… yes, I am what you would call an 'NPC'. In a manner of speaking. I'm not certain I understand it myself, but then we only began to find answers earlier today."

"It's complicated," Kirito put in, mustering what social skills he had to bravely rescue her from Sasha's confused look. Putting on a shy smile, he poked at his rice with his chopsticks, and continued, "I'll spare you the math and advanced neuroscience—half of it was way over my head, anyway. Short version, Kayaba made a breakthrough in studying human consciousness, and figured out how to maintain a copy of it in an artificial medium." When the blue-haired Swordmaster's visible confusion eased only slightly, he awkwardly scratched his head with his free hand and took a bite of rice to buy himself a little time. Once he'd swallowed and chased it down with a sip of fruit juice, he tried, "Think of it this way: what we've got running on brain tissue is exactly what Kizmel has, just using a mechanical medium."

"Kizmel isn't a program," Philia simplified it further, around a mouthful of fried egg. "Think converting a brain directly to metal, instead of an AI running on circuit boards." She shrugged, smiling wryly. "Like they said. We're still working out what it means. But Kizmel's a soul, not computer code, and that's really all that matters to us."

"You get used to it," Dale called, from where he and Dynamm were regaling the children with the tale of their battle with a dragon. "Take it from us, Sasha-san: she's just like us in every way that matters. We knew that years ago, now we've just got a better of why. …Kinda."

Oh, not every way… but close enough.

"That is… extraordinary," Sasha finally said, shaking her head. "Not that I doubt it!" she added quickly, when Kizmel winced. "I'm no clearer, but I've seen enough things I wouldn't have believed possible that I can believe Kayaba managed a miracle." She paused then, brow furrowing as a thought occurred to her. "Ah, Kizmel-san… have you always known this world is…?"

"A construct?" Kizmel shook her head, a bittersweet smile curling her lips. "Not until this past March. After subjective decades… it is a long story. But it's easier now, knowing that I am 'real'."

At least, she thought it was going to be easier, once she'd had time to truly take it in. In that moment, her head was still whirling from it all.

"Mm." Delicately picking up a piece of bread, Sasha seemed to realize the topic was still a weighty one, and continued her earlier train of thought. "Well," she said, "neurology aside… on the other side, I was attending university to become a teacher. I've always wanted to guide children; though this wasn't quite what I had in mind, I at least had some idea of the chaos I'd be in for." She took a bite out of her bread, smiling around it at the children at the other table.

Kizmel followed her gaze, and chuckled quietly to herself at the sight of rambunctious children settling down to listen with rapt attention. Fuurinkazan, it appeared, knew how to tell a story; Sachi was twirling a butter knife in her fingers, miming a Spinning Shield, while Klein grandly narrated the battle. Quite the tale it was, too. She hadn't been there, but when she'd gone to Lisbeth's shop not long after, the blacksmith had been in awe of Fuurinkazan's performance against X'rdan.

Fighting dragons is quite a task at the best of times. In a volcano? That's not a battle I'd care to assay, myself. …Even so, this, all of this, is what we've really been fighting for, isn't it? There is peace here. From what Kirito and others tell me, this is how their world is. Getting them there… that is why we fight, as much as for our own lives.

Even if it means acting as we did against PoH.

After a few moments, Sasha chased down her bread with some juice and turned her attention back to the guests. "Honestly, though," she said quietly, "I think they're supporting me, most of the time. Taking care of children gives me something to hold onto, something useful to do. I'm afraid I don't have the courage to go out in the field, but keeping the young ones safe is important, too."

"Definitely." Kirito surprised them both by speaking up; quiet but firm, his nod was earnest. "If you weren't doing this… well, I'm not that much older than they are, myself. I can guess what kind of trouble they'd get into."

"Yes, I'm sure you can. And have, if the rumors I've heard are anything close to true." Sasha raised an eyebrow, while nibbling on a carrot in a way that Kizmel somehow thought was meant as a mock-scolding. Her teasing air quickly vanished, though, as she sighed. "If only trouble was still something they'd have to go looking for."

Kizmel nodded, recalling all too well the Army patrols. Especially the one from which they'd rescued Sasha and her charges the previous week. "That shouldn't be an issue much longer," she told the other woman, with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "The Army leadership has more or less reached an accord, and they're coordinating with the KoB and DDA to round up the agitators."

Sasha's other eyebrow went up. "The Army, the KoB, and the DDA all working together? You have been busy. Thank you." She glanced toward the door, and sighed. "It's almost a shame, in a way. Keita seemed more alive than I'd ever seen him, guarding this place against criminals."

Just like that, tension flooded Kizmel's shoulders again, and she felt Kirito stiffen. They'd been distracted from the unexpected encounter by dinner preparations; now they were facing it head-on. Over at Fuurinkazan's table, Sachi also flinched, and though she kept up with the story being told to the children, she was obviously listening.

"Keita," Kizmel said carefully. "He comes here? Regularly?"

"Yes?" Sasha paused halfway through her carrot, seeming surprised by the tension. "I started seeing him… about six months ago, I think. I'd seen him around the City before, of course, but it was only half a year ago that he started coming around here. He sort of… drifted here, like a stray cat. He's older than the children I'm looking after, of course, but if anything he seemed worse off than any of them. I never was able to find out why." Her eyes narrowed. "But you do know, don't you?"

"Yes," Kizmel said shortly, grasping Kirito's hand under the table. Whether to comfort him or draw comfort from him, even she couldn't have said. Probably both. "Kirito and I were there when Keita's guild died. Sachi is the only other survivor."

She still remembered much of that battle, with crystal clarity. Every death was etched in her mind. Especially Sasamaru's scream, when Kirito had to choose whether to save him, or her. She could only take a small comfort, now, in knowing for certain that her own life was at least not worth any less than his, even if she would forever live in the knowledge it was not worth more, either.

"Oh." Sasha nodded, very slowly. "That… explains a lot. Maybe even why he started coming by here for meals, always bringing more than enough money to pay for it. The one time I asked him, he just muttered that it was all he could do." She finished off her carrot and leaned back in her chair, gaze looking at something beyond the church's walls. "Then the Army went insane. Fuurinkazan helped, of course, and I'm grateful, but after they had to leave, I was afraid things were going to be bad. Then one group of 'tax collectors' did show up… and so did Keita. Screaming his head off. I think he honestly scared them as much with that as with his sword."

Kizmel exchanged a glance with Kirito. That didn't sound much like the Keita they knew, but then he hadn't exactly been himself since the Fallen Elves had murdered his guild. It was certainly better than his sullen bitterness, when Kizmel had last encountered him.

"Since then, he's been a lot more alive," Sasha continued thoughtfully. "He's still quiet and morose, but since he's been chasing off Army goons he doesn't look half-dead anymore. Like he found a spark again. I hope he doesn't lose that, with the City cleaned up."

"He won't." Sachi drifted away from the others, a sad smile on her face. "I know Keita. If he's come this far… he'll make it."

I wonder how much of that is true certainty, and how much is desperate hope? Kizmel couldn't guess. Sachi was the only person in Aincrad still alive who'd known Keita prior to the Black Cats, so perhaps she did speak with confidence. I hope so. For all that his words stung, that day in March, I never wished him ill. He is as much a victim of Kayaba as I.

She found herself squeezing Kirito's hand, and when he turned a questioning look on her, she only smiled faintly. This, she would tell him later, was what made everything worth it. The sacrifices they made, and even the lives they took. Because PoH was gone, the children in Sasha's orphanage survived to laugh, and fight, and listen in rapt attention as Klein dramatically told the tale of their battle with the sea dragon Medrizzel. Because of what they'd all done in the Hollow Area, Griselda was there, in the flesh, to practice eating again and to ask questions about the battle, preparing herself for the frontlines.

Because of the battles they fought, even Keita had a chance to come back to himself.

Where there is life, there is hope. And those who would steal hope and life both, bring upon their own heads the consequences.

Smiling to herself, Kizmel turned her full attention to her dinner—just in time for the orphanage's door to slam open. "Sorry I'm late! Things are crazy out there today, I've never seen so many clearers down here, and—whoa! Kirito-san, Kizmel-san, you're here?!"

Clad in a long green coat with a hood, a brown-haired girl rushed in, pigtails bouncing, and came to a screeching halt. The blue-feathered dragon on her shoulder quickly flapped her wings to keep balance, and crooned a greeting of her own. The dragon promptly took off, heading for the tables—in search, no doubt, of peanuts.

Kizmel felt her smile widen, seeing the girl and the dragon she and Kirito had helped to revive nearly a year ago. "Hello, Silica, Pina. It's wonderful to see you both again."

With the fall of night, Fuurinkazan finally returned to their guildhall. Situated on the Fifty-Second Floor, it was higher than Griselda had ever been before her death. The clearers had only just conquered the infamous Fiftieth Floor Boss, Vemacitrin, when Golden Apple had received the fateful loot drop that had ended everything.

A rustic floor, she'd noticed. And strange. About half of it looked like it belonged in North America's colonial period, while the other—the half Fuurinkazan called home—was patterned on Sengoku Japan. Strange, yet homey, she thought. Something about the floor, and Fuurinkazan's pagoda-style guildhall, was more comfortable than anything she remembered from the days of Golden Apple.

Maybe, Griselda mused, following Klein inside, the rest of the guild filing in behind them, because they find it comfortable. Even before everything else… went wrong… Golden Apple was a pick-up group that turned into a guild. Grimlock and I were the only ones who knew each other before. Fuurinkazan have obviously all known each other a good while.

Most of them, anyway. Griselda had seen firsthand Lux's adoption into the guild, and she'd long since heard Sachi's story. They'd both still slotted in with an ease she envied.

"Welcome to our humble castle," Klein said, when they were all in the guildhall's common area. Pausing by his usual place at the head of the table dominating the room, he swept into a formal bow. "I know you've been here before, but this is your first time in the flesh, and your first time as a member of the guild. So… welcome."

"Thank you," Griselda said sincerely, returning the bow. "I really can't tell you how glad I am to be here. For… a lot of reasons."

"It's tough, being without a guild," Sachi said quietly, as she and the others wearily settled in around the table. "Worse if you're used to being in a guild, and…." She trailed off into a yawn, and blushed faintly. "Sorry. It's been a really long day—well, you had it worse than the rest of us. So yeah. I've been there, Griselda. When I lost my old guild… I don't know how I would've managed, if Kirito hadn't brought me to Fuurinkazan."

"I dunno," Dynamm put in, and promptly yawned himself. "Dammit, Sachi, that's contagious…. Whatever. Kirito and Kizmel taught you. I bet you'd have been fine… well, maybe not fine, but I think you'd have managed without us."

Kirito. Griselda still didn't know that much about the skittish swordsman, beyond his presence as one of the major clearers and apparently the one who'd taught Klein the basics of SAO. Even as long as she'd been hanging around Fuurinkazan, it was rare to even see him. Though she had noticed one thing, during the dinner at Sasha's orphanage.

"So tell me," she began, sliding onto the bench. "This Kirito… how many girls does he know? Between his wife, the treasure hunter, the leaders of the KoB, Sachi, Argo the Rat, the girl with the dragon…."

The table burst into laughter, even if it was quiet, tired laughter. "That, Griselda, is the biggest mystery of the game," Klein told her, grinning. "I think Sasha and Yulier might've been the last ones Kirito hadn't met, and he's got half of 'em on his Friends List, probably. For a guy who thinks he's the most hated man in the world—and heck, he almost was, right after Illfang—he's a smooth one with the ladies."

"If he just asked, he could supply half a raid party all by himself, just with girls," Dale agreed, chuckling. Leaving the table, the big tank wandered into the kitchen, and came back a moment later with a big kettle of tea and a stack of cups. Going around the table pouring, he continued, "I think it's that 'mysterious hero' thing, you know? Philia and Rain may be the only ones he didn't meet by hauling them out of a tight spot."

That did fit with rumors she'd heard, before and after her death, and what she'd seen of him personally. However quiet the young man was, Kirito seemed the sort who could not see someone in trouble and walk away. Though with that many girls hanging around him….

Gratefully accepting a cup of green tea from Dale, Griselda took a careful sip, and savored the first taste of it she'd had in almost a year. "Kizmel-san must keep him on a tight leash," she observed. "Or want to, at least. Any woman would be jealous, in her place."

…Why does Sachi look like her face is about to catch fire?

From the way the others were looking at the former Black Cat, they didn't get it, either. A grin was lurking on Klein's face, though. Regardless, he cleared his throat and directed his answer at Griselda, letting Sachi off whatever hook she was on. "Nah," he said, raising his own cup to his lips. "Kizmel's the understanding type. Word is she encourages a lot of it—"

"You don't know the half of it," Sachi muttered, hiding her face behind her teacup.

"—And anyway," he continued, as if the swordswoman hadn't said anything, "everybody knows Kirito's only got eyes for Kizmel. They were all over each other before they made it official. Since then? Ha. Nobody's getting in the middle of that one, believe me."

She did. Even without seeing the other members of the guild nodding firmly, Griselda believed him without question. Because for all that he could be the goofiest man in Aincrad a lot of the time, she'd seen that Klein of Fuurinkazan was also possibly the most sensible man in the Steel Castle. He'd gotten his guild clear to the Seventy-Sixth Floor without losing a single member, and all while keeping them able to just sit back and laugh. There was no one whose judgment she would've trusted more, in that moment.

Whoever and whatever she is, Kizmel is a very lucky woman. The understanding between them, the trust on the battlefield and at home… she has that, with Kirito. What do they have, that Yuuya and I didn't? …Maybe their relationship being forged in the death game tested its strength from the beginning, while ours never saw any stress until the day Kayaba trapped us in here.

Griselda couldn't help a shudder, remembering her husband's rant. Even after he arranged for Kuze to murder her, it had never occurred to her, not once, that his "love" for her had been bound up in an image of her as a perfect, docile wife. That what she had seen as a chance to spread her wings—to spread their wings—had instead shattered his image of her and their marriage.

Seeing Kirito, after learning that Kizmel truly can escape from this world with us… he's delighted. Knowing she can be more, even barely knowing them I can tell he's over the moon. I… envy that.

Klein and Fuurinkazan were a little different, but they still showed Griselda how different the world could be from what she'd known, before and within the death game. Even after the grueling battles they'd fought in the Hollow Area earlier that very day, even as tired as they all were, they were laughing and joking with each other. Even Lux and Sachi, who'd faced copies of some of their worst enemies. Even Dale, who'd lost an arm—a temporary problem in SAO, but easily fatal in the middle of a battle.

Griselda remembered the tales they'd told the children at Sasha's orphanage, especially their grand battle with X'rdan. To Fuurinkazan, this was another day at the office. Fighting at this level was just what they did. Seventy-five floors and two years into clearing Sword Art Online, they knew the risks, and knew just as well that they were strong enough to face them.

Staring into her teacup, she found herself remembering when Golden Apple would sit around the table in their own meager guildhall. They'd been happy, or so she'd thought at the time, yet even at their best, there'd never been the relaxed camaraderie that came so easily to Fuurinkazan. They'd all been acutely aware that a single slip-up could've led to their deaths.

I wonder where they are now? Yuuya just died. Krueger was killed in the last raid. Kirito killed Kuze months ago, and Klein killed him again today. Schmitt joined the DDA. Kumari is with the KoB. What about Caynz, and Yolko? Golden Apple is gone, and it's never coming back, but if I could just see them….

"Griselda?"

Griselda jolted, almost spilling her tea, at Lux's worried call. "Ah, I'm sorry," she said, carefully setting down her cup. "I was just… just thinking."

"I can guess." Klein brought up his menu, checked something she couldn't see, and nodded to himself. "Well, about that… it's just about time."

"Time?" She frowned, confused. "Time for what?"

"Time for me to show off what kind of a guildmaster I am," he answered with a sly grin. "Couldn't do this for Sachi, and Lux never had anybody but a pick-up group. But for you? I pulled out all the stops."

"And he's going to be smug about it for a week," Issin grumbled. Griselda noticed, though, that he was hiding a grin of his own.

She was about to ask—again—just what was going on, when a knock sounded at the door. Quiet, almost nervous, but Dale—whom she only just realized had never sat down again—seemed to have been expecting it. He quickly opened it up, and stepped back out of the way.

"…Griselda? Is it… is it really you?"

A girl with long, deep blue hair and eyes timidly stepped in, followed closely by a tall man with short-cropped brown hair and dark eyes. "No way," he breathed, eyes going wide. "Guildmaster… it's really you. You're alive…?"

Clanking heralded Schmitt's arrival. The big tank was already pale when he walked in. When he saw Griselda sitting at the table, he went stark white and dropped to his knees. "Griselda…? You… you're… you're….!"

Almost climbing over him, wearing the tight red-trimmed white bodysuit of her new KoB uniform, tears ran down Kumari's face. "Griselda-dono," she whispered, dropping to one knee. "You truly are… alive again?"

Blinking back sudden tears of her own, Griselda shakily pushed herself up, and gingerly walked over to her former guildmates. "I… honestly don't know," she said quietly. "I don't know what I am now. But… right now, I'm back." She looked over her shoulder, wide-eyed. "Klein…?"

"You're one of ours now," he said, folding his arms and flashing a rakish grin. "We're not giving you back to Golden Apple. But what kind of guildmaster would I be if I didn't make sure your friends knew you were okay?"

She wasn't okay. Not really. Not so soon after Grimlock's final, terrible acts. But as the survivors of Golden Apple gathered around her, Yolko flinging her arms around her neck and sobbing, Griselda felt a weight she hadn't known she'd been carrying lift from her shoulders.

I'm not okay, she thought, hugging Yolko back, telling a bawling Schmitt that he wasn't the one to blame for what had happened. But I will be. I will be.

Thank you, Klein.

Home. Oh, it's so good to be home.

Emerging from the blue flash of the teleport on the beach, Philia felt a desperate relief at the sight of the cabana. To most of the world, it had been less than a week since she'd left. To her, it had been a month and a half, and it was truly a sight for sore eyes. Not that Silver Moon Castle hadn't been a luxurious place in its own right, way fancier than Team Kirito's cabana, but it certainly hadn't been cozy.

It hadn't been home. Racing—well, trudging quickly—ahead of Kirito and Kizmel, she flung open the door with as much energy as she could muster. Bringing up her menu long enough to switch out of her armor in favor of a comfy t-shirt and shorts, she headed straight for the living room's fireplace. She could smell a storm coming, and even in the Fifty-First Floor's perpetual summer, there was already a chill in the air.

Maybe it was just her imagination, after all the time she'd spent in the Hollow Area. After starting up the fireplace, Philia still gladly threw herself down on the Sabertooth Shirotiger-hide rug, lying spread-eagle and luxuriating in being home.

It wasn't the house she'd grown up in the real world. It was still the place she'd come home to every night for eight months. For her, the soft sound of waves and wind, the occasional howl of the Fifty-First Floor's tropical storms, the smell of the sea… this was home now. After weeks in the twilit uncanny valley of the Hollow Area, she reveled in being back.

Back with her friends. Philia turned her head, bringing into view a much-needed reminder that there were people who would come for her, who had come for when she'd needed it most. The sight of Kirito and Kizmel cuddling together in their favorite armchair by the fire was much a relief as just being back in the cabana. It reminded her that it wasn't just "her" home, it was their home. She wasn't alone anymore.

She did feel just the slightest twinge of guilt at that. After all, Thinker had been with her during those days, and he'd actually been in the Hollow Area a week longer. Still, she hadn't really "clicked" with him. Not the way she had with Team Kirito. Besides, he's got Yulier. They're probably cuddled up somewhere, too.

I've got these two. I've got to introduce them to Sis, when we all get out.

Okay, so she wasn't cuddling with them. She was pretty sure Kizmel wouldn't have minded, if there'd just been more room in the chair, and knowing that was enough. Knowing they were there was enough. Knowing that if something happened to her again, they'd come running for her… it was enough.

Even the storm, when it rolled in and engulfed the cabana, was comforting. The Hollow Area had felt… dead. The mournful wind that had always howled around it hadn't carried any feeling of life. The Fifty-First Floor's storms were anything but lifeless, booming with thunder, flashing with lightning, sweeping waves up to the cabana itself only to be held off by its Immortal Object status.

Philia reveled in every moment of it.

Then the door crashed open again, letting in some of the rain, and Rain herself stormed in. Philia couldn't help a laugh at the redhead's expression, waterlogged as she was. "I'm home," Rain declared grumpily, quickly unequipping her soaked KoB uniform. Switching to a casual blouse and skirt, she padded barefoot to the kitchen table, and dropped a box on it. "Asuna sent dinner home with me."

Abandoning the comfy rug by the fire, Philia almost beat Kirito and Kizmel to the table.

Asuna's cooking was always to die for. Philia soon discovered that the KoB Commander-Chef was just as good with udon as she was with anything else. "One of these days," the treasure hunter said around a mouthful of delicious noodles, "I have got to find out how Asuna managed to make soy sauce in here."

"I would advise against asking," Kizmel told her, chuckling, as she twined noodles around her own chopsticks. "I asked about a sauce, once, and learned the ingredients are often… unexpected. And better left to the imagination."

"It tastes good," Kirito said, swallowing happily. "Does it really matter why?"

"It does when you're roped into helping her find the ingredients," Rain said wryly. "Before she sent me home, Asuna asked if I had any requests for next time. I shouldn't have made any. Next break in the clearing, I'm going hunting… somewhere. She didn't say, but she had kind of an evil grin."

"You know you liked it." Philia gratefully slurped down another bite, reveling in the simple taste of home. "After the day we all had, if Asuna was grinning, we're all better off."

"You're not wrong." Kirito paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth again, and raised an eyebrow at Rain. "So, how did things go with the Army? We didn't see much of it. Mostly just Keita scaring off a last try at harassing Sasha's place."

Keita. Brr. Philia only knew their history with the one-time guildmaster second-hand, but she could tell he was still a sore spot with them. Well, things are looking up there, too. I hope.

"It's mostly done, we think." Rain sighed, digging into her udon. "Thinker and Kibaou's loyalists are handling cleanup now. Getting there was a real pain, I can tell you that. If the Army guys weren't egomaniacs in noisy armor, tracking down a thousand-odd would've been almost impossible. As it was, they're also cowards, which really helped."

Kizmel nodded sagely. "Let me guess: some of them were smart enough to not want to take on clearers, but too terrified of even the weakest of monsters to try and leave town?"

"Yep. We think a few of 'em teleported to higher floors, but they're not gonna get much done up there. The ones with the gear and levels to try what Kobatz did aren't the wannabe-bandits." The redhead shook her head. "We'll get them sooner or later, or the Army will—as long as they're part of the guild, Thinker can track them. They weren't the really stupid ones, anyway."

Kirito's chopsticks froze halfway down to his bowl. "I'm afraid to ask."

"Remember Colonel Ganelon? Moron who got in your way when you stormed the Black Iron Castle last week?" Receiving collective nods, Rain slumped in her chair, almost planting her face in her bowl. "That idiot decided to let all the prisoners out of the Castle's dungeon."

For a few seconds, the only sounds were the rain pounding against the cabana, the roar of thunder, and the howling of the wind. Even without seeing the look in Kirito's eyes, Philia could've guessed what he was thinking. Some of the worst monsters in Aincrad had been locked up in there, from Rosalia and her Titan's Hand to the survivors of the Laughing Coffin Crusade, like Red-Eyed XaXa.

If Kirito hadn't killed PoH, he wouldn't have been locked up more than a couple hours.

Philia could see that realization in her friend's eyes, and in the way Kizmel leaned over to whisper something in his ear. Yeah. They knew exactly how bad it could've been.

"Lucky us," Rain said quietly, when it had all sunk in, "none of them knew what was going on. XaXa was the only LC guy with the brains to try anything tricky, and Asuna managed to trick him into a Corridor Crystal. Wasn't too hard to wrangle the rest of them, crazy as they are." She grinned suddenly. "Would you believe Rosalia just led her guild straight into the teleporter in the basement?"

Kirito let out a strangled sound that might've been a laugh, if he hadn't been chewing udon at the time. When Kizmel had hammered his back enough to clear the choking hazard, he got out, "Knowing Rosalia? …Yeah, I'd probably believe it. Why?"

"She heard rumors about it from Kibaou's guys, when Kibaou took over in the first place." Rain snorted, digging into her own bowl again. "She was just sure it was the key to getting her own back, or… something." She chuckled. "Who were we to argue?"

Right, Titan's Hand never was the brightest orange guild. We reversed their trap on 'em without a problem, back when we were helping Silica. Though Philia was just as glad Rosalia hadn't tried escaping into the City of Beginnings, instead. Seeing Silica happy and helping out at the orphanage, Philia would've hated for the Dragon Tamer to run into her one-time bully again.

"So yeah," Rain said, polishing off her udon, "we've got the Army rebellion pretty much under control now. Once that's out of the way… things are going to be changing a bit with clearing."

Kizmel leaned across the table, obviously interested. "Oh? I imagine that with Laughing Coffin finally dealt with completely, focusing on clearing the game is going to be easier. PoH's schemes have been hobbling us almost from the very beginning…. Is there something more?"

"Mm-hm." Rain drained the broth from her bowl, set it aside, and leaned back in her chair. "Seems Lind's learned some lessons lately. So's Kibaou, and he and Thinker are even talking now. After everything that's happened since Kayaba was outed, the big guilds have come to an agreement…."

It's so good to be home.

The storm had passed, leaving a pleasant cool in its wake. Warm enough for Kizmel to let her skin breathe as she settled into bed, cool enough to make snuggling into the crook of Kirito's arm comfortable. After everything, in the past week, she shamelessly luxuriated in it. When a hand began to gently trace one of her long, pointed ears, and another rubbed up and down her bare back, she almost purred.

She'd only spent two nights away, but it had felt so much longer. It had been much longer than that since she'd the chance to simply relax this way. Not, she thought, in almost two weeks, since the scouting party for the Seventy-Fifth Floor Boss had been wiped out. After it had come the battle itself, the revelation that Heathcliff was Kayaba, and then over a week of dealing with the crisis in the Hollow Area.

But those crises were past. The Army's rebellion had been stopped, PoH was dead, and the dangers of the Hollow Area had been sealed away. The threat of Kayaba Akihiko remained, but they would not see him again until they reached the Ruby Palace. They would train, they would prepare, yes. Worrying about it now, in this moment… she saw no reason for that.

Kizmel soon realized, though, that her husband was not quite so relaxed. Lifting her head, she saw his eyes were closed, as if trying to sleep, but there was a tension in his face that plainly showed he was far from succeeding. "Kirito-kun," she whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. "You should rest. We've earned that tonight, you and I."

"…Have I?" Kirito's eyes opened a crack, letting her see the vulnerability she knew he'd hide from almost anyone else. "What I did to PoH… I don't know. Was Tia right? I killed him while he was helpless. I've killed in a fight before, when I had to, but that…."

"PoH would only briefly have been prisoner, had you taken him alive," she reminded him, gently but firmly. "You heard what Rain said. The Army rebels opened the dungeons. PoH would've escaped in short order, and it would all have begun again." Her eyes narrowed. "And I believe you know that."

Because she'd watched him, in the months since he'd first taken a life. Kizmel had seen how Kirito came to terms with it, understanding that sometimes, there was no other way. PoH had, in that moment, been helpless. Yes. But it was not the first time Kirito had gone into battle not only knowing but intending to kill, to protect others from being victims in the future.

She knew it didn't come easy for him, and she was glad. She also knew, and was glad, that he did not consider himself a murderer in turn. Though his measures against PoH had been more extreme than against Morte or Kuze, it had been a matter a degree, not kind. She expected nightmares. She knew she would have a few herself.

The inner struggle she saw now, she knew had to be more than that. She suspected she knew what.

Propping herself up on one elbow, Kizmel met Kirito's eyes, not letting him look away. "Kirito-kun. When Asuna asked you if you could use the admin console to let the Swordmasters escape… you didn't quite answer her. You changed the subject." She arched an eyebrow. "Could you have?"

Kirito's entire upper body tensed, before abruptly relaxing. "You see right through me, don't you?" he mused, a rueful smile playing at his lips. The humor immediately vanished. Taking a deep breath, he slowly nodded. "Yes. In theory, I could have initiated a log-out."

In theory. Her husband was many things, but a liar was not one of them. Not with her. Never with her. She took a deep breath of her own, letting it out slowly. "But you didn't even try."

It wasn't an accusation. He knew her well enough to understand her meaning, and simply slowly shook his head. "You know how scared I am of being responsible for other people's lives," he said quietly. "In that moment, I had six thousand lives in my hand. In theory, I could've saved them all. In practice… even if Kayaba is willing to accept alternate endings to his story, there's no way there wouldn't be lots of security on the log-out function. I'm good, but he's a genius. There's a decent chance I could've cracked it, yeah. If I hadn't…."

He didn't have to finish. Six thousand lives, snuffed out in an instant. Kizmel didn't have to understand the technology involved to grasp that simple point.

"It's the big reason I deleted the admin console," he admitted, turning to look out at the stars beyond their window. "Even before I realized the Hollow Area would make a good prison. The idea of someone else taking a crack at that? It's terrifying. But…." He closed his eyes, head falling back on the pillow. "I don't know. Should I have taken the risk anyway? I decided for, well, everybody, without consulting anybody. Kinda arrogant of me, isn't it?"

"That depends." Kizmel gently trailed a hand down Kirito's chest, tracing the muscles that still remained from his days training as a swordsman in his own world. "Was it because you're afraid of leaving this world behind me? Of leaving me behind?"

"No." His answer was quick and sure, and he cracked a wry smile. "I love this world, Kizmel. If I could make it real, I would in a heartbeat. But I know I have to go home… and now, I know you'll be waiting for me on the other side. I'm not afraid of going back anymore."

Somehow, Kizmel doubted that last statement. She knew his fears of trying to return to his own society. But she was satisfied that he meant the rest, and smiled at him. "Then I would say, love, that no one has the right to question you. You weighed the risks, and chose not to risk six thousand lives on the slim chance that you might outwit the creator of this world in his own domain. That's not arrogance, that's prudence."

Perhaps, she mused, he'd merely needed to hear it from someone else. Given how little he trusted his own judgment, when others' lives were on the line, it would not have surprised her. Either way, it was enough for the tension to ease out of his face, and the smile he turned on her next was warm. "…What would I do without you, Kizmel?"

"You are never going to have to find out." Kizmel cuddled close again, relishing the feel of his skin against hers, and smiled. "Whatever it takes, we will be together in your world as much as this one."

Kirito's arms wrapped around her, hugging her close, and she gratefully melted into his embrace. Today was trying, she mused, leaning in for a kiss. But worth every moment. PoH is gone, and the threat of the Sanctuary being opened is over. We brought Philia back home. All that remains is to clear the remaining floors, and defeat Kayaba himself.

Once, I feared that. First, from the knowledge that Kirito, Asuna, and the other Swordmasters I've come to hold so dear would leave me behind. Then the terror of whether I would be left here, to fall into oblivion. Now… whatever I may be, I know I'm not bound to this world at all.

I don't know how I will see Kirito's world. It will be frightening, I'm sure, learning to live there. But I can live there. I will. That makes everything worth it.

Some time later, as Kizmel rested in Kirito's arms, there was a soft click. Raising her head, she saw their bedroom door open just a crack, and Philia peek in. "Um… guys?" she whispered. "I, um, can't sleep. Do you mind if I…?"

Kizmel didn't have to look up to know Kirito's opinion. Pulling one arm free, she patted the bed. "By all means," she said, smiling gently. "You are always welcome."

With a quiet sigh of relief and a sheepish smile, the treasure hunter slipped into the room, and then under the sheet. With only a moment's hesitation, she cuddled up against Kirito's back. "Thanks," she breathed. "I tried going to sleep in my room, but it was so quiet, and all by myself, it just… reminded me too much of the Hollow Area. I just needed…."

"To know you're not alone," Kirito finished, only briefly flinching at her close contact. "I get it. Believe me, I get it."

"Oh, yes. We do." Kizmel reached across to touch Philia's shoulder. "You are not alone, Philia. We are always here for you."

"I know." The other girl took a shaky breath, and settled in. "…You're not alone either, Kizmel. You know that, right?"

"I do." Smiling, Kizmel let her eyes fall closed, and rested her head on Kirito's shoulder. Sleep, she thought, was finally creeping up on the all.

I don't know what my future is. But now I know I have one, with the man I love and with my friends. Right now, that's good enough.

I am not alone.

Author's Note:

Strictly speaking, that last scene probably should've been purely Kirito/Kizmel. But after how everything went with Philia's arc, especially with me not able to quite give it the depth I wanted, I felt she needed her own coda here. A reminder, at the very end of the arc, that it really was supposed to be about her.

Oh, well. After the next chapter, things really are going to be narrowing back on the fic's central relationship again. I'm gradually thinning out the subplots. Finally.

Speaking of subplots, the mess with the prisoners being let out of the dungeons was originally going to be depicted directly, and indeed I wrote around a thousand words of it. Then I realized it just didn't add anything important, and really felt contrived and out of place. So, relegated to Rain's after-action report it was, along with the similar plans to depict more of the Army rebellion being stopped. In theory interesting, but very much out of place with the overall tone of the chapter.

Overall, not that much going on with this chapter, I'll admit. This is one of those times that I wasn't sure I could make the material gripping, but I felt I could not simply skip it. With all the trauma and twists of this arc, I felt a need to at least give some closure to it. Not sure how well it worked, I definitely felt scenes straying from my intended points even as I wrote them, but I tried.

Next chapter is one more breather before the grand finale. Though technically it's set a couple months before said finale, it will be essentially the emotional coda for several of the character relationships as they've been in the Aincrad arc. As I've noted in various replies recently, Chapter 39 will be basically the inverse of Chapter 30: instead of focusing on the girls' characterization and relationships outside their mutual connection to Kirito, it will focus on Kirito's connections with the girls outside of Kizmel. I want that to a large degree to be settled there, so that I can give his and Kizmel's relationship proper focus at Aincrad's climax. Their relationship was the beginning of this story, and though Aincrad's end will not mark the end of the story, I believe it should return to its roots for that.

So expect friendship and found-family fluff in Chapter 39, and lots of it. Which, hopefully, won't take too long—I've got a rough outline of basically every scene at this point, so in theory it won't fall prey to my usual problems writing breather chapters.

One other thing I'd like to take note of: I am deeply impressed and humbled to have reached the 1,000 review mark. This is the first story I've ever written to get even close to it, and I am very, very grateful people have stuck with this fic so long and so far. I hope it continues to satisfy, as we finally reach the climax of Aincrad and beyond.

So… yeah. Kind of a slow chapter, but I hope it was at least worth the relatively short time it took me to write it (three chapter posted in under a month!). Good, bad, die in a fire? Let me know, and I'll see you all in Chapter XXXIX: Christmas Waltz II. -Solid