The first thing she noticed was the smell.

After the system was done syncing up her five senses, the first thing she noticed was the acrid smell of smoke and ash. She wrinkled her small nose.

The second thing she noticed then, of course, were the dense columns of pitch black smoke billowing to the sky…and the eerie amber glow of so many fires ravaging the city, far below the elevated highway she appeared on.

"Yeaaah, I…think I may have missed something while I was away." Sinon murmured to herself.

She stared out at the cityscape. The familiar smog of the city made denser still with ash and the scattered echo of gunfire.

What the hell happened out here? An event? The expression Sinon wore was one of sheer confusion…and, admittedly, just a little bit of excitement. New content was new content, after all. And that stirred at her competitive heart.

Though, she did somewhat regret not checking if «MMO Tom» had an article about this beforehand.

She shook her head to herself, partly out of bemusement. "Game devs sure have weird ways of celebrating Christmas this year." She tugged at her scarf, more to cover her nose from the smell than her usual nervous habit.

This certainly wasn't the return she came expecting, but. Whatever the facts of the matter were, she'd just deal with it when she got to it. Like she'd always done.

That approach worked out well enough for her so far today, hadn't it?

First things were first, though: Sinon needed a resupply.

The «BoB» had done an excellent job of draining much of her personal kit, thanks in no small part to the unexpected "guest star" she and Kirito had to deal with. Much of it were consumable items—health packs, stamina-restoring foodstuffs, ammo, and so on—easily replenishable along her way at some stores.

But for other things…

Sinon grasped at the rifle sling on her shoulder.

What wasn't going to be easy to replace was the blown out scope on her Hecate II.

Players might obsess over rare guns and powerful calibers, but in Sinon's opinion good optical sights were just as important, and could often be as rare and expensive as the guns they were attached to. It made the difference between seeing an enemy at distance—or not.

And unfortunately, a .338 Lapua Magnum slug exploding out the entire back end was definitely not something that could be salvaged.

It was for that matter that she would need to head back to her in-game home. Though, now that she'd seen that some… "interesting" things were happening in the city, she should probably try going to the mission distributor first.

Sinon slipped the rifle sling from her shoulder and hefted the mighty weapon, nearly as long as she was tall, into the crook of her arms. Her signature weapon, powerful without doubt…but no use carrying without a way to aim it.

'Can't be helped.'

With no small amount of reluctance, Sinon unequipped her Hecate, which dispersed in a flash of blue light. Another flash, and a new weapon appeared on her hip.

Sinon unholstered her «H&K MP7», racking the charging handle to seat a fresh round into the chamber.

"Okay. Now, the Contract House was…this way. I think."

—

What to do… Even here, things were in disarray.

"I don't want to make a scene, but you're being ridiculous. There's a damn war happening at your doorstep and you want to stay? Any of the [others] I might understand, but you?"

"From one soldier to another: I have a duty to uphold. Did you always listen whenever «Frontliners» told people not to go somewhere? Besides, you know as well as I do you don't have your Commander's blessing to be pursuing this issue."

"...Keh."

The young man was silent and looked away for a moment. The lady at the desk took that as confirmation of her suspicions.

"Am I not safe where I am, already? I am a military officer in a logistics role, far from the active operations area. Any enemies would have to fight across several districts and who knows how many Contractors to get here, and by then I would long since have been evacuated."

She bowed. "While I appreciate the offer of help, respectfully I must decline. I believe I can handle myself under these circumstances, so your presence is not needed. If you have a task already assigned to you by your Commander, I would highly recommend you prioritize such urgent assignments over myself." She emphasized the title of his leader.

"You…" He clenched his fist. Then, a flash of anger flitted across his features. And in the next second, his pistol was unholstered and pointed at her face.

Fit of impudent rage or a calculated scare tactic, it no longer mattered now. "And what of assassins, huh? Contractors can't be triggermen in an enforced «non-PvP Zone». But you don't need to be when any idiot civ NPC in street clothes can slip into a public building like this with a budget pistol."

The lady in blue stopped herself, and breathed deeply. Her tone dropped low, her tone even icier than her previously professional manner. "Be mindful of what you do next, little wolf. None of you are even supposed to be in the area. I only need to give the order to show you exactly how good Glockenʼs internal security forces are."

—The two flinched as a burst of gunfire ripped through the air.

The barrel tip of Sinonʼs MP7 was still smoking with burnt powder when the two turned to face the source of the noise, the collapsible buttstock propped against her cocked hip.

This was the scene Sinon was greeted with upon entering the guildhouse. A pair of soldiers in different uniforms, arguing loud enough for her to hear the commotion before she even came inside.

One a young man with short green hair and a drab uniform that was either green tinged with gray or else heavily faded, and slightly disheveled, with a shoulder patch depicting either the head of a dog or a wolf on it. Conventionally attractive, though that didnʼt mean much in a world where you could control your appearance.

The other, a young lady who looked to be in her early twenties. Her expression was as stern as her uniform was neat. Her hair, which flowed down the middle of her back, almost right above the skirt line, was nearly the same deep midnight blue color as her uniform.

Neither, she noted, were guild employees. In fact the girl beyond the counter wasnʼt even wearing the iconic white uniform of a receptionist for the contract house; she wore the distinct dark blue uniform and side cap combo of a female officer in the Glocken security forces.

What in the world a member of Glockenʼs military guardians was doing at a guild post, she didnʼt know. But she wasnʼt going to get anywhere regardless if she just left the argument to continue as-is.

Sinon didnʼt say a word. Just pointed at the boy and then jabbed her thumb to the side. When he hesitated, she brought her gun down to grip it with both hands in a low ready position. A silent, but meaningful, gesture of warning.

The soldier in the gray-green uniform held up his hands in feigned surrender. He turned to the exit.

"Two more hours."

—The Lieutenant said after him.

"It takes time to sort and distribute orders. Nobody will question some more bureaucratic delays in a situation like this. But that's as much extra leeway as I can afford with my position."

"...Thank you, Hayami-san. I will relay that back to base." He resumed: "Even if you donʼt like or agree with what we're doing out here…at least keep what I said in mind. We really do mean it when we say we're trying to help. Maybe you donʼt trust the word of a stranger like me, but at least trust the Commanderʼs."

The girl pursed her lips, seeming to mull over his words.

"...Fine."

He nodded without turning. She sighed as the automatic doors slid closed behind the erstwhile soldier, and turned back to Sinon.

"I apologize for the wait, Miss. And thank you for the help."

"No, it's fine. I was just being impatient. I figured getting his attention towards his surroundings would be the fastest way to get things moving along." She gestured to the small crowd which had already begun to disperse.

"Well Miss, your impatience just saved me a lot of trouble… Excuse me, I forget my manners. My name is Lieutenant Hayami, Glocken War Relief Corps. If you seek missions outside the city, a normal receptionist is available on the upper floor—yes, where the lounge cafe would be. Otherwise, I will be temporarily taking over the distribution of missions within the city limits."

Sinon fumbled reholstering her MP7 and looked down to see what she was doing. She was out of practice…she made a mental note of that for later.

"—And if you need recommendations for ridgid holsters, or perhaps a single-point sling, I can also help with that."

Sinon chuckled and nodded. "Thank you, Hayami-san. Ah…"

"Hm?"

"Err, no. Nevermind. It's nothing."

Were NPCs always able to converse like this? Sinon frowned. She couldn't remember; normally back in the day she'd barely pay attention to that kind of unimportant detail. Back then, NPCs were little more than an easy way for her to get gear and experience so she could get stronger.

Not to mention, with how many odd incidents she'd experienced around Kirito, she suspected that she'd probably developed a very warped perception of what AI were supposed to be like. Especially after what she'd just finished in ALO that morning.

What did he call it. Hybrid AI? The memory of Freya and her uncannily natural responses were still fresh in her memory. But damn, if Kirito's technical explanations didn't just go in one ear and out the other.

Maybe she was just more aware of things, now that she'd decided to treat VR games as something more than an ad-hoc therapy tool.

Whatever.

"Actually, Hayami-san. Could you tell me something about the big fire down there? I was out of action for a few days, so I'm not really sure what's been happening in the city since I was gone."

"Ahh… Yes, the 'big fire.' How I wish that were the only thing happening down there. Excuse me for a moment, I'll need to get something to explain this properly."

Behind the Lieutenant were a set of filing cabinets (bit archaic for a city right out of a cyberpunk manga, Sinon thought) that the Glocken Defense Force had brought in.

Sinon knew it was the GDF's equipment, because the twin metal blocks looked as old and battered as the tiles of the city itself, and matched exactly none of the streamlined sci-fi decorations in the rest of the building interior. Hayami riffled through the drawers, occasionally withdrawing a plastic disc case to examine the title before replacing it back where she'd found it.

Hayami looked and stared over her shoulder at Sinon for a moment, then returned to her task. Stopping once more to straighten the side cap when it tipped to the side.

"That's quite the lightweight setup you have there, small Contractor-san. What's your build, if you wouldn't mind?"

'Does it matter?' Sinon nearly said automatically. She'd been asked that question so many different times from players partying up as if it was a checklist requirement, that it had become an automatic response for her—it annoyed her so much. The gun alone, not to mention how her gear was set up, should've made it obvious enough; only «Scouts» and «Marksmen» were willing to run with such a lightweight rig.

But again, this was an NPC. So…

"Sniper, Hayami-san. I'm a sniper."

The Lieutenant bowed her head to herself and apparently chuckled from the way her shoulders briefly rumbled. "Sorry, sorry. That was a mean joke. Miss 'BoB First Place'." She gestured with the disc case in her hand. "You're missing your signature rifle is what I mean."

Sinon furrowed her brow. "NPCs watch the competitions?" She said it more to herself than to the Lieutenant.

"That's an odd term to use for non-contractors, but yes we do watch the broadcasts. Understandably, it's not a topic that comes up often in the professional exchanges you adven—you mercenary types tend to favor. And in your case," Hayami said as she set aside the disc case on the counter, "I bring the subject up because it's relevant to a task we would want someone of your caliber to look at."

Hayami swiped her index and middle fingers down in a familiar gesture. Her fingers danced in the air against an unseen screen, and a pop-up appeared in Sinon's vision.

[Special Request from the «Glocken Defense Force»! Would you like to view the briefing?] [Yes/No]

Sinon glanced past the screen at Lieutenant Hayami, then at the disc case. Then she tapped the [Yes] option.

Of course she did; this was exactly what she'd logged back into GGO for. And it was a unique mission, too, by the sound of it. Far more than she was ever expecting when she first walked through the door and wasted a few bullets into the ceiling.

"SAR," the scotch tape label on the case declared in bold black marker. If she had to guess the acronym… Search and Rescue?

"Excellent, Sinon-san. If you would follow me to my office, please, so we can review the mission details privately?" LT. Hayami said, surprising the sniper again by saying her name for the first time.

"U-un. Lead the way, Hayami-san."

The office was a simple but tidy affair, a decently sized square of a room sequestered in a corner behind the front desk. It was probably about the size of Sinon's own apartment room, actually. Like the work area outside, it featured a mixture between a carefully selected and streamlined assortment of themed decorations, with an equally organized selection of spartan-looking GDF equipment for whatever task Hayami-san and her unit had been assigned to do here.

But the real centerpiece of the room, and what was the focus of both girls' attention, was the holographic projector in the middle of the coffee table.

"If you wouldn't mind answering while I set this up: why is your favorite rifle not with you today?"

Sinon rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. "The scope got blown out towards the end of the BoB when I was dueling another sniper. We got each other in scope view at the same time, and I was barely faster than [that guy] was on the trigger pull. Narrowly missed having the exploded back end of my scope and a deformed .338 bullet hurtling towards my face when it happened. So I've put the Hecate away for now until I can get another scope on."

"Then why haven't you replaced the scope yet? Can't you just screw another one on like with those dot sights people put on regular rifles?"

Sinon shook her head. "Even with a QD optics mount it's a bit more involved a process than just bolting another scope on the optics rail, and I really don't want to go through that right now. Not this late in the day. Not only would I have to spend almost an entire mag of expensive 50 BMG to zero the scope in, I'd also have to actually find a stretch of land both long enough and clear enough for me to shoot at the distances I normally do. Hard to do in a megacity. Believe me, I've tried before."

Sinon pursed her lip. "And to tell the truth…it's also because I'm annoyed that such an expensive variable zoom scope got blown out but that damn chuuni, skull-faced bastard."

"I see…" Hayami tapped her pen as she worked. She tore a page from a notebook in her breast pocket and scrawled something down, before swiftly returning to her task.

There were no windows in the room, Sinon noted. This wasn't so unusual for most buildings in Glocken; the cityscape was so congested it made it a rarity for there to even be something to look at even if there had been windows, which meant plenty didn't even bother. But much like a library or a hotel lobby, the contract guild was one of the few buildings that had been deliberately designed with an open architecture. To feel more welcoming and less claustrophobic for its visitors. That resulted in using a lot of windows for the illusion, which meant that this closed-off office had been a deliberate choice for maximum privacy.

What in the world, Sinon wondered, was she being asked to do?

"Well," Lieutenant Hayami said, breaking the silence after a moment's consideration. "Sniping would've been a nice bonus to have, but long distance shooting isn't actually the skill I wanted the top sniper in Glocken for."

Hayami pressed a button on the remote on the table and the lights dimmed. "What I need right now is stealth."

Another button, and the holographic projector came alive in a flurry of geometric shapes, lines, and colors.

Before Sinon's eyes was a sight that she thought wouldn't have been out of place in the old science-fiction movies Kirito recommended to her a week ago. A large three-dimensional hologram filled the room, buildings represented by large rectangular wireframe blocks, streets by long, straight corridors that terminated at the ends like grids on a piece of graphing paper; cars, roadblocks, and other small obstacles by charmingly simplified outlines of what they represented.

"Approximately two weeks ago at 1400 hours, a GDF-allied base in the Industrial District called Zulu Compound suddenly came under a fierce, coordinated attack by local partisans. The base had been built around the defense of a vulnerable electric hard point which distributed power to the entire district, as well as contributing to the supply of several other neighboring districts. Shortly after this attack, this hard point got knocked out and large swathes of the Low City fell into chaos as multiple rival groups vied for control over territory in the resulting power outage."

The hologram rapidly zoomed in on what looked to be a conventional four-walled fortress compound. Judging from the size compared to the structures around it, the real fort must've been the size of an entire city block.

"Zulu Compound itself has ceased all radio communication with the outside world since that incident, so we have no idea whether there's anyone even alive down there anymore. However, survivors or no, neither outcome is important."

Sinon raised an eyebrow at that last statement.

A red pulsating dot appeared on the map, in a room located a few floors up a tower-like structure inside the compound walls.

"But this is important. The on-site database at the compound's command center. We need someone to make their way into the compound ahead of Glocken's internal security forces being deployed into the area, and secure what's on that server—" Lieutenant Hayami presented a thumb-sized black rectangle in front of her, "—with this data stick." She placed it on the table with a resounding clack, like a chess piece.

"Find a terminal in that room that connects to the server, plug this in, and try not to get caught doing this.

"Any further questions regarding the mission, Sinon-san?"

There were many. "You said I need to go ahead of your own forces before they reach the location? What for?"

"Classified, unfortunately. But I think you can guess just from the fact we need someone down there ahead of us already implies the fact that it's not something we can let non-GDF personnel get their hands on."

"Because you don't want the partisans getting it, or because the GDF doesn't trust their partners?"

"..."

"Right… What are my options for friendly forces down there? If the GDF won't be sending in troops, will I have any backup?"

"Depends on you. How big is your friend group? Your diplomatic ability?"

Now it was Sinon's turn to remain silent.

"... Sorry. Judging from your silence, I'll take that as a negative. There WILL be other Contractors down there on other assignments, granted, but I somehow doubt either of you will be interested in making friends right now. It's a stealth mission anyway; if things go well, you won't need the help. Anything else?"

"Recommended route?"

"Take the east gate out of this area, same as the other Contractors. Then disperse as quickly as you can. It's the quickest and most secure, and the frequency of Contractors inbound and outbound will mask your intentions. Just whatever you do, don't take the south gate. Security Forces are massing for an assault there and that's where the fighting is already heaviest."

Finally, Sinon struck at the heart of the matter. "And the reward for going through all this trouble?"

The LT smirked. "Once the data is in we'll be notified automatically, and the information will be transmitted from the data stick to our servers. Afterwards, you can keep the stick; it will function like a regular one from then on, and the credits reward will unlock. Quite efficient." A knowing glint crossed her eye. "A big pile of credits. 500 thousand total. More than enough to buy a mine-resistant jeep with a gun turret, if you wanted… Aaand, just for you…" She tapped a few more times on the data pad on her desk. A new notification popped up in Sinon's feed: «Quest prompt updated»

"—A match-grade precision rifle optic. 6-to-24 variable magnification, and a 56mm objective lens for a wider field of view and excellent light transmission. Tactile adjustment turrets with half-MOA clicks for precise zero-ing of the reticule, high-definition glass made to Japanese specifications for top of the line optics clarity and minimizing parallax…and I'll throw in a mesh «killflash» to put over the lenses to eliminate scope glare. Just in case you come across another sniper that's good enough to give you trouble." She finished off with a sly wink.

Sinon pulled her scarf over her face, to hide her impressed smile. The girl drove a hard bargain, she had to admit.

The scope alone had specs easily putting it in the same price bracket as her old «FR F2» at the auction house, or at least on par with it. And while not nearly as important to her, a 500 thousand credit lump sum was still nothing to sneeze at either; she could pay off her internet bill for the next month or so on her own if she converted it into real cash.

Even with her expression hidden, the LT must've known she had Sinon's attention. And she'd be right.

The LT held her hands out to either side of her as if presenting the secret to a magic trick. "Well, what do you think? Pretty favorable setup, right? Not to mention the rewards are right up your alley."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't already interested before… Your negotiation skills aren't what I expect for a military member. Were you an OL in a past life, Hayami-san?"

Hayami smiled. "Oh no, nothing like that. I just had something happen that made me want to be a more confident person, that's all."

Sinon met her smile with one of her own. "Un. I see."

The door opened.

"Sachi, you in here?"

A young man wearing the same uniform as Hayami appeared.

By Sinon's impression, if Hayami's concept was the [Neat and Clean Officer] type, then this fellow's concept must've been the [Laid-back Soldier].

He walked in all smiles. His eyes widened in surprise at his fellow "guest."

"Oops. Didn't mean to interrupt anything, did I?"

"Save it before you become the second chatter mouth she chases off today, Tetsuo." Hayami said. "And it is Lieutenant or Hayami-san when we're working."

"Hey, that's not fair! You called me by name!"

"I am a higher rank, Tetsuo."

"So heartless! This'd be power harassment if this were back home, Hayami!"

"Hayami-san, Tetsuo. And you're right: that's why the military is a dictatorship."

Sinon kept her scarf over her face. As much as the two soldiers appeared to be bickering, it was clear to see that they got along by the light atmosphere around them. Hayami-san, or "Sachi" as she'd heard, at the very least had dropped some of the professional facade she'd been maintaining with her a moment ago.

'I think I understand Lisbeth's difficult attitude to Kirito-kun, now. Just a little bit.'

"…I see you two are having fun." Sinon quipped as she observed the harmonious atmosphere.

Hayami had a slightly embarrassed expression. "Sorry, you don't have to listen to our daily comedy routine, Sinon-san. You can head out to Industrial for the time being. Either someone else or I will contact you over comms when you get there, we can iron out any more details there."

"Un…Sure." Sinon bowed and closed the door behind her.

'But…is it really alright for a military to have such a carefree attitude during an emergency?' And thus, a tiny bit of anxiety entered Sinon's already tired mind as she set off.

—

The door shut behind them. A silence descended upon the room.

"…Doesn't it feel odd? Being on the other side of that, now?" He looked to Sachi, gauging her reaction.

The girl, Sachi, pursed her lips. "Tetsuo. Shut up."

Tetsuo sighed. "And after I'd lightened the mood, too." He muttered.

Lieutenant Hayami, Sachi. Age 20. Glocken Defense Force: War Relief Corps Unit 01. This was the person who Tetsuo looked to for orders…and who he worried about the most in recent days.

"Are you not curious about [the boy]?" He said, not relenting on the matter. "Sure he looked different from what either of us remember, but his sword skills, and the way he talked. It couldn't have been anybody else."

Sachi stood. Her expression was unreadable in the dark. She turned her back, bracing herself against the desk as she read over (or pretended to) her notes on the tablet there.

"Do you remember what Argo said the last time she met with us?"

He nodded. Of course he did. "It was only a few weeks back when she found us—God knows how. Right before the [incident] down there, come to think of it."

"Then you should understand why I don't want to give him false hope."

—'He watched us die.'

Neither of them said, the two former «Black Cats». But unspoken words lingered in the room with them. Like a ghost's whisper.

"Yeah…" Tetsuo trailed off. "Kayaba's scenario…it still hangs over us even now, huh."

Sachi hung her head over the desk.

"That's why…that is why I don't want to put him through something like what happened last time. Not until we know for sure there's a way out—if there's a way out." Sachi said with a sense of finality. There was a slightly misty look to her eyes, then, which reflected in the diffuse light of the tablet and the projector.

Tetsuo frowned. "Do you think they can pull it off? Those WolfHounds of Argo's?"

"Well if she can't, then I don't know who else would. Just her having that many former Clearers back on VR—plus extras—is a wonder on its own."

"Especially with the leeway we've been buying for them. Much as I am reluctant to say." She finished.

"They came back for more?"

She nodded, with a self-defeating smirk. "Against my better judgment, yes. So, we have two extra hours of work and incorrectly filed signatures to sort through while the rat girl's band of barbarians finish off whatever they came here for."

"Of course we do, Sachi." He sighed.

"Then you know what needs to be done." The lights snapped back on. A light expression was on Sachi's face. "And…you wouldn't happen to know where we can find a scope that 'fell off a truck' by any chance?"

—

Aster had been 14 years old when the «SAO Incident» first occurred. 15 years old, when he joined the anti-PK guild that would become the «WolfHounds» in those chaotic, heady days after the Clearer guilds cemented their power among the surviving playerbase.

He had turned 17 since that time, two years older. And wrangling parties together in a raid-sized group still hadn't gotten any easier.

'I guess now I ought to be calling them «squads» and «platoons», in this world.'

Aster watched as his squad and the members of another swarmed over the vault which had been their objective, gracelessly "liberated" from its previous underworld-based owners in the messiest firefight he'd seen to date. His friends scrambled up and down the giant metal box, nearly the size of a large cargo truck, bolting on attachment points and hooking on chains for the heavy armored vehicles and the helicopter they'd brought to haul this thing out of the city.

"Alright, it's bolted on!"

"Hey, get those cargo hooks off the points, then! Yes, the side ones the IFVs were dragging it with!"

Aster tapped the pommel of the large combat knife strapped to his left side in nervous consternation. It was a big, heavy chunk of metal with hardwood grips, and a blade bordering the line between a long knife and a short sword. He could've gotten a pistol for the same weight, but Aster insisted that it "felt wrong" to have a sidearm that wasn't a one-handed blade.

"Do you think the helo is even going to be able to lift this thing?"

Aster glanced over to the trooper, whose name he couldn't remember. One of the many logistics or crafting specialized players who'd been haphazardly attached to the multiple platoon-sized groups they had deployed into the district.

"Not even for a second." He replied.

The trooper's equipment was like a lot of the other newcomers that had been attached last minute to his unit: mismatched and battered. Probably cheap surplus that beginners normally bought, or battlefield pickups he'd just looted from the gangsters they'd just slaughtered in the smoldering apartment building behind them.

They were fellow members of the same guild (or «PMC», to use this game's term), but in Aster's opinion their presence here was of dubious value. Equipment aside, they were also inexperienced in GGO's style of team fighting and were out of practice.

Simply put, the WolfHounds did not have the numbers or equipment they needed to pull this operation off as originally planned. The original proposal had called for either 400-500+ Contractors (approximately two infantry companies worth of fighters) equipped to the minimum standard for clearing intermediate level missions. Or else less than that number with adequate support from ground and air-based fighting vehicles, and crew-served weapons to serve as "force multipliers," to make up the difference.

They had neither in sufficient numbers.

At best they could wrangle maybe 250-300 shooters together under ideal conditions, but thankfully the approaching end-of-year vacation had managed to free up enough of their members from school and work to reach that amount—barely. But that was still less than half of what they needed to comfortably fulfill the first condition. And even with the admittedly poorly-equipped and inexperienced logistics members added on, they were still short about 100 shooters for the second condition.

Not to mention the nightmare that was navigating vehicles this deep through Glocken's multi-tiered urban sprawl. Just the handful of auto-cannon equipped IFVs and up-armored jeeps coming here intact was a blessing in itself.

In short: this was a fucking mess.

[Ground, this is Air.]

Aster keyed his radio. "Air, Ground reads you. Send message."

[Dagger 2 is approaching from direct South of your POS, approx 20 seconds. Stand-by for gun run. Break. Pelican 1 following from same direction, approx 30 seconds.]

As a logi trooper passed by, Aster grabbed him by the back of the collar and yanked him behind his gun jeep—just as a burst of automatic fire came skipping off the asphalt. The gunner in the jeep responded with a burst of their own, the machine gun raking a shattered storefront across the street with a hail of .50 caliber slugs. Dust, debris, glass fragments, splintered steel—and finally, a puff of red.

"…Copy, Air. Ground standing by. Out."

He turned to his hostage. "First off, I shouldn't need to tell you to look down the street before you cross. Second of all," he pointed to the pile of captured equipment that they'd dumped in front of the former target building, "start distributing those. Guns, ammo, grenades, medical—whatever anyone needs, you bring it to them. Grab a rucksack from the pile if you need to. Understood?"

When the trooper nodded in the affirmative, he let go of his collar. He saw him off as he somewhat sheepishly made his way to the rear—keeping the vehicles between him and the outer perimeter as he went, he noted with satisfaction.

It was a bit harsh, but in his opinion and likely the other soldier's as well, that person was better off doing what they did best and helping keep the rest of them supplied. Convincing himself of this, Aster turned to his own business.

'God, I wish Rei were here right now.'

And he tapped the handle of his knife again.

Another steady, thumping noise began to rise above the din of sporadic gunfire. At first it was indistinct, muffled by distance and the buildings, but soon the distinctive whump whump of a helicopter became recognizable.

An AH-6 "Little Bird," came screaming around the corner some distance away. The lightweight aluminum frame was taken full advantage of as the pilot banked and tilted the aircraft in a steep turn; behind the helicopter, the rocket exhaust of an unguided rocket streaked an upward diagonal path.

[Guns incoming.] —Over the radio.

The aircraft steadied. Bright flashes erupted from the twin mounted machine guns mounted on either side of the bird. A loud, angry stream of cracks resounded overhead as thousands of bullets shredded several high rise buildings in one long, continuous burst that put the jeep's earlier performance to shame.

The red phosphorous glow of tracer rounds streaked like laser beams. Whole floors, from which a mix of overenthusiastic local militia and gangsters had been shooting at them from, were wiped clear in an instant.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTT!

Like thunder after the lightning, the muzzle report of the rotary guns reached the cheering crowds a fraction of a second later. They sounded very much like the angry growl of some mythic dragon as the light helicopter gunship zipped past.

[Guns complete.] Came Dagger 2's dry report over the radio.

"You got em, Dagger 2. It's a lot less noisy down here."

[Roger, Ground. Standing by for further support.]

'Blunt as ever, isn't he.'

On cue a few seconds later, Pelican 1 appeared. The medium sized utility helicopter turned the corner less nimbly than Dagger's Little Bird, but was moving no less as fast as it flew directly to the awaiting platoon.

But…

'It's not going to be enough.'

He could tell as soon as he saw which model it was. A military helicopter like the UH-60 Blackhawk was a fine aircraft for general purposes. Nimble and tough, versatile. But it simply did not have the power to lift a heavy vehicle like a tank, let alone a vault like the one they were on top of.

He switched to the next channel preset on his radio. The "voice" button turned green on his HUD as he focused.

"Company HQ, Platoon 1."

A few seconds of delay.

[Send it, Platoon 1.]

"Pelican 1 is on scene, but this vault isn't leaving with it. We'll need a cargo chopper: civilian, military, it doesn't matter. Break. We cannot stay here. We're going to try to move and consolidate at your position."

[Pelican can't lift it?]

Aster glanced up at Pelican, the helicopter bobbing precariously as it tried to lift off. He shook his head as if in face-to-face conversation.

"It can, but barely. Only enough to clear over cars, maybe go up over a one or two-story building. But I kind of expected as much, we barely got this thing towed away from the hole we blew open."

[Copy, Platoon 1. I'll send, uhhh…break.] [Platoon 1, I'll send 3 squads and a few vehicles over, we'll try to clean up some of the buildings between us and meet you halfway down the direct road at the crossroads. How copy?]

"No, not there. I was thinking about following the main highway and moving across to the off-ramp. I don't think we'd even be able to squeeze past all those cars on the direct route with these armored Vics."

[The highway is bound to be blocked, too, Platoon 1.]

"True. But there aren't buildings to stop us from pushing the vehicles off the sides."

[...Roger, Platoon. We'll do it your way. We'll meet you halfway along the main highway. Try not to hit our own uniforms. Out.]

Aster closed the transmission and switched channels.

"All Platoon, this is your babysitter speaking. If you need to get your gear together or apply medical, do it now. If you have optical guns and shield packs, now's the time for it. We're going to be moving toward Company HQ along the highway.

Break. For our formation, we're going to try for a staggered column, but we might have to switch to a single file line if it's too much of a mess up there. Stay in-line with the Vics for cover as we move, and watch the windows."

[Platoon 1 Actual, this is Squad 1-3. That highway is a fucking shooting gallery. We're going to be elevated and exposed from god knows how many angles.]

[Squad 1-2. I echo with what was just said. I say we take the direct route, at least then we can break up line of sight so we don't eat an RPG from a roof.]

"I don't know about the rest of your guys, but mine aren't looking forward to having some asshole throw molotov cocktails and grenades down on us from their one-room apartment again. At least on the highway the vehicles finally have enough turret elevation to rake the hell out of those buildings. Any other suggestions?"

There weren't.

"Good… If you need supplies, grab it from the pile in front of the apartment or get one of your logi volunteers to do it. We move in five minutes. Out."

'Just a short drive down the street.' He tapped his knife again.

[—]

Glossary:

Chuuni: Shortened form of the Japanese term "chuunibyou" or literally "8th grader syndrome." It's...kind of hard to explain in few words. Key examples of this sort of behavior would be Megumin from «KonoSuba», or pretty much anyone from the series «Chūnibyō Demo Koi ga Shitai!». I suppose an approximate equivalent term in the English world would be "weaboo," as they both describe basically the same sort of behavior but in different contexts.

Helo: Shorthand for "helicopter"—pronounced "hee-low." This is very specifically a military or milsim abbreviation, unlike the more common "heli" used in other contexts.

"Break": The verbal equivalent of a line-break in radio comms. These are used when a radio transmission gets too long or to change subjects, in order to divide the message into smaller, easier to understand parts. Also used to interrupt another transmission in an emergency; more on that later.

"Vic": Abbreviation for the NATO alphabet term "Victor" for the letter V, which in turn is shorthand for the word "Vehicle." Basically, Vic is shorthand for the word vehicle.

IFV: Acronym for Infantry Fighting Vehicle, an armored troop transport with heavier firepower than a truck or an APC.

PMC: Acronym for "Private Military Company." Describe GGO's equivalent of an organized player guild from a more fantasy-themed world. The word "guild" will sometimes be used interchangeably, due to the identical role.

POS: Shorthand for "position." Not an acronym.

Squad: The second smallest basic unit in a professional military, consisting between 6 and 12 people. For the purposes of GGO's game mechanics, this will be 8 people.

Platoon: The next unit size up from a squad, consisting of about 4 or more squads. This'd be about 40-50 people in GGO; approximately the same size as a typical raid group circa SAO.

Company (Infantry): Unit consisting of multiple platoons. As mentioned in-story, this'd be approximately 100-200 people total, or more depending on the objective. This is typically the largest maximum unit any player-led group ever reaches, only ever being surpassed during collaborative NPC-led events or in alliances. Not to be confused with a PMC (Private Military Company); context clues will be needed to differentiate the two in-text.

A/N:

UPDATE 6/20/24: Changed "Ducker" with "Tetsuo."

Next chapter will be uploaded between one or two weeks from now. Hopefully. We will see.

The argument at the Contract House was originally preceded by another scene of a WolfHound driving up on Sinon and asking for directions. This was supposed to be used as an indirect way to highlight how absolutely screwed the later-mentioned WolfHound operation to conduct an overt vault heist in the Low City was, as well as have the character explicitly comment on how much less icy Sinon acts now compared to her reputation. I ended up scrapping this scene, as I felt it was redundant to the Contract House argument, and because of the potential problem I saw with OC cast-bloat.

The Contract House argument was originally a much more generic template, based on the common manga fantasy cliche of brutish guild members harassing the receptionist or weak-looking newcomers. This was changed due to the fact it didn't accomplish enough in the way of storytelling, and I thought it read very awkwardly in its completed form.

Sachi doesn't have a canonical IRL name. I ended up just using "Sachi" as her default first name, and borrowed "Hayami" from her seiyu as her family name.

The radio comms are an interesting bit of research. I'll elaborate more on what I did for that when they feature more prominently.

Originally, a retired and very aged British Army sniper OC was supposed to be featured here, partly as an indirect explanation for why Sinon is such a skilled sniper. He was a composite of an actual Scottish sniper I met on FFnet a long time ago while doing research for this story (who, surprisingly, had been present during the original British Army trials for the adoption of a 50 caliber AMR, with the French PGM Hecate II as one of the candidates), as well as being inspired by several other members of the British Army I read of in both nonfiction and fictional works. Ultimately, I decided against using this OC for several significant reasons, including the fact I didn't want to use the real man I met as a basis without permission. Most significantly, however, were two other factors: the fact that this was a Western OC at all, and I am very aware how much disdain OCs get in general, in my opinion rightfully so, especially of Western ones in a Japanese setting. Didn't want to waste screen time on a relatively niche set of characters, anyway. Also the fact I was approaching OC bloat with a wide number of characters in my plans, but little depth, so I ended up consolidating aspects of characters together to fulfill multiple roles.

Working around the language barrier and the specifics of an English-accented Japanese dialect was also a daunting task, so I just skipped it.

Speaking of OCs, this sniper would've also been part of a minor group of 3 other OCs. They would've had a concurrent adventure in a different location at the same time as Argo's WolfHounds and the consequences of their seemingly unrelated stories would've eventually intersected towards the climax of an arc. 2 of these OCs would've given the perspectives of teachers under the JET and ACT programs to teach English and live in Japan—or at least what I could glean from what JVloggers would say.

I didn't end up using anything from this entire group of OCs for nearly identical reasons as previous…save for 1 member, who was the only Japanese in the bunch. Spinnaker. I will elaborate more on that, when we reach the group where his details ended up being used instead.