Chapter Text
Floor 13 Intermission - The Calm Before the Storm
It had been a long... actually, he'd lost track of how long it'd been. He'd left Heathrow on the 22nd February, been on the plane twelve hours, and somehow landed on the 24th?
He sighed to himself, before yawning. Damn jet lag.
Still, if Isaac was calling him here, then it had to be important. The man simply didn't do ''unimportant''... why and how that happened to include his own brother's funeral, he would never understand. Perhaps it was his own views on family painting that, but then he was hardly innocent, if he were to be held to the same standards. His son was in a coma, and it had taken him nearly four months to come visit. In his defence though... well, he'd have to think of one.
Sat at the bar, was the other surviving member of their little clique. A pale and wiry gentleman, with greying, brush like hair draped in front of his face and a suit that certainly wasn't freshly pressed. Well, wasn't that a shock... Isaac Tellerby, usually the most immaculately presented man on planet Earth, currently resting on his arms against the bar? He wished he'd bought a camera...
Oh yeah, smartphone. A few taps, and that image would be kept for leverage. He still owed the man something back for Sandhurst, after all.
If he was entirely honest, it was quite an amusing image to see one of the most powerful men in the world napping on a bar in Tokyo, and bought back memories of their days at university... even if it was usually him sleeping on the bar.
''Now there's a surprise, Dracula's escaped the crypt...'' He joked, as he took a seat next to his comrade. The partially conscious comrade grumbled as he began to wake up, stating something about alarm clocks and how it used to be easier to chuck them out of windows when he was younger. He really was tired, he supposed...
''Oh fantastic, the young at heart has arrived...'' He grumbled as he picked his head up from the bar.
''Let me guess, some crisis has occurred in some far flung country, and you haven't slept in a week, as you tried to psychoanalyse every commander in their ranks?'' He asked with more than a smidgen of sarcasm in his voice.
''No, for once it has very little to do with Glowgen. Or at least, directly, anyway.'' He answered, a sense of complete annoyance in his voice.
''Shocking.'' He tried not to laugh at the rather less than pleasantly nicknamed ''Lord of War''s misfortune.
''A life lesson for you. Billionaires have phenomenal egos...'' The look on his face was one of a man who wished strangling certain people was legal, if he knew Isaac as well as he believed. ''Regardless, I suppose you want to know why I asked you here Jonathon?''
''Nah, the atmosphere's fantastic, and so's the leverage.'' He smiled innocently, as his once friend - a man once described as a master of human chess - looked on in confusion, and mouthed the word ''leverage'', one of his eyebrows raised as he did so. It took a few seconds, but it clicked eventually.
''Well, once we've had this part of the meeting, I would appreciate you deleting that photo. I'd hate to spend precious resources dealing with you...'' Usually, he might have been intimidated by the implicit threat, but it was hard to be threatened by someone who looked as if they'd just gotten out of the wrong side of the bed.
''So, you need my help then.''
''I find myself in need of someone with experience in looking after children. Who better than the deadbeat father with seven children?'' The sarcasm in his tone was painfully evident, and it actually quite hurt that he had a point there. Still, he wasn't going to let him of all people have that one...
''And for that, I'm making sure that picture finds its way into the papers. I'm sure my darling daughter would love that scoop...'' Rule one: never try to be clever with someone who has family in the media. Admittedly, it wasn't as if she'd answered any of his messages for nearly three months either. What was it with children sometimes? One found themselves in a coma, and another was constantly AWOL.
The expression on Isaac's face was more concerning though - it wasn't one of concern, but rather one of someone who knew something he didn't. ''I'm sure she would, especially knowing young Gabriella's tenacity... sadly, that won't be too likely.''
''What the hell have you done to my daughter, Isaac...''
''Yes, because I knew you would take a photo of me, and refuse to back down, so I locked her in a dungeon somewhere.'' He rolled his eyes. ''Honestly, Jonathon, still the same headstrong idiot I trained with.''
''Then. What. The. Hell. Has. Happened. To. My. Daughter...'' Each word was punctuated as he pointed a finger towards the considerably older looking man.
''The same as happened to your son, Jonathon. Sword Art Online happened, and I could do with your help in righting that particular wrong.''
''Then why do you need someone to look after children? There's nurses for that?''
''Indeed there are. I should introduce you to someone...''
''They're not behind me, are they?'' He asked, only half joking as he looked over his shoulder.
Tellerby chuckled. ''Oh dear lord, no. A twelve year old in a bar, the authorities would have a field day...'' Now it was his turn to look bewildered. Who was he talking about, and why was a twelve year old a vital part of the inevitably complex plan to free the players of Sword Art Online?
/-/
Somewhere in Osaka was a research facility for the Japanese Self Defense Forces. Inside it were the projects that the military would rather the civilian populace not be privy to, and amongst them, were a complete server farm. An unimaginable amount of data, contained on its own secure network, with less than twenty people allowed any knowledge of its existence, and of those twenty, only about eight knew of its location. Of those eight, only four were truly aware of its purpose.
Granted, that number had now risen by one, but it was still a strange scenario to have all of them in the same place at the same time. Had they really been beholden to the military, Kikuoka supposed that would've been strictly prohibited, but despite being on military property, it wasn't as if those in charge really saw any interest in the project.
On the grounds of morality, he reckoned that was probably a good thing, realistically speaking.
''So, Isaac, I see a load of servers. What exactly are you planning?'' The taller and younger looking gentleman asked, rubbing at his stubble as he did so.
''What you see here are copies of the data from Argus' servers. Complete copies of Sword Art Online, and no, Jonathon, that doesn't include player data. Mostly, anyway. We do have some player data in there, but young Miss Arsharvin is working on that.''
''Why only some data, not all of them?'' He asked, an eyebrow raised.
''The data is of-'' Even the ever stoic Tellerby seemed uncomfortable at the prospect of his next words. ''-unviable members of the player base. A way to ensure they lived on after death, perhaps.'' Though the younger man, Jonathon was clearly uncomfortable at that revelation, he voiced no concerns. The scowl on his face was more than enough to tell just how opposed to the idea he was.
''If we tell ourselves that, we may eventually believe it.'' He muttered under his breath. Despite being assigned to the project as a form of cover for another, even more heavily classified program, his disdain for what type of ''research'' was being undertaken was very much on record, and he intended it to stay that way. He would rather the Americans meddle with simulations that - should they come to light - be swept under the rug as an ill conceived, but well intentioned attempt to rescue several thousand people, than he would his own project. After all, the damage they could do with this was far more limited in scope than the damage they could do with access to Project Alicization. It didn't take a genius to work out what they could do with an army of AI...
''How many.''
''Around two hundred at the moment.'' Tellerby looked towards the servers with a look of despair. ''We think there was a major battle yesterday - we retrieved twelve profiles, all at around the same time.''
''Miss Arsharvin is the young lady you asked me to take care of, correct?'' The casually dressed blonde asked. ''How much does she know of what you're doing here?''
''Little, if anything, and I intend for that to remain the case. She is a bright young lady, but she is... rather headstrong. She will take action, should she believe in her cause, and at least to my understanding, she still believes she is working on freeing the survivors. A noble cause, but not strictly correct.''
''So, if I understand you, Tellerby, you want me to not only continually lie to this girl, but to possibly deny any attempts to rescue several thousand people, my own son and daughter included in that, whilst you work on... well, God only knows what!''
''Not entirely. Her research is a part in assisting the survivors, but not directly. Our mission, or at least Glowgen's, is simple - Assassinate Akihiko Kayaba.''
/- Meanwhile, in Aincrad -/
This side of the Twelfth Floor had been an interesting difference in pace for Sanya. Whilst she'd spent the past days in the dark on the Thirteenth Floor, today had been spent sneaking around near the Pirate Fleet on the Twelfth Floor, hunting for a valuable mystery item - one that was certain to give her, and by extension, the orphanage a valuable boost.
Or it would've, if she could've found the damned thing! Even the Rat, as useful a source of information as she was, had barely been able to give much information on the item in question.
A side quest near the beach had involved defeating a not insignificant number of the Piscine Pirates, before sneaking through the galleons at the Wharf, and into the caves, where the item lay behind a screen of opponents. Whilst Sanya would admit that she wasn't on the same level as Rain, a girl who could, charitably in her opinion, be described as a prodigy when it came to video games, she certainly wasn't a push over either...
''Voz'mi eto!'' She yelled, as another Piscine Pirate fell to her blade. That made at least thirty of them now, and surely that would've cleared the cave in her mind. It hadn't, and she headed deeper into the next chamber, to find a field boss - a Piscine Pirate, much like the other thirty, but far larger, standing well over three metres with an eye patch over its left eye, and a tricorn hat. Lay behind it was a female figure, a mermaid of some kind, chained to the wall, and kept in a state that she would describe as only barely alive. Almost more so than anything she'd encountered so far, that caused her to see red, and with little by way of rational thinking, she threw herself straight into the attack...
''Shovinistskaya svin'ya! Prigotov'sya umeret'!'' she screeched, as she thrust her blade straight into the unexpecting Piscine Captain, the humanoid fish screaming in agony as the blade tore through its internal organs. With little emotion, Sanya pulled back and prepared for her next strike, the Piscine Captain spoke, breaking her out of her rage filled attack...
''One more child to fall before me...''
''You-you can talk?'' Sanya snapped back, disbelievingly. Yes, the boss on the Thirteenth Floor could speak, but that was a boss; this was just a larger enemy! Surely they weren't as complex a program as the bosses... were they?
''I am centuries old... why does my ability to speak confuse you...'' The Piscine Captain spoke, drawing an oversized cutlass, and preparing an attack on Sanya. With no more words spoken, the two charged at each other, blades ready to clash...
At the last possible moment, Sanya threw herself under the blade, and readied a sword skill on the Piscine Captain, her sword tearing through the humanoid's side, and toppling it. Wounded from the attack, the Piscine Captain kneeled, leaning on its blade as it let out a laugh. Compared to her expectations, it almost sounded as if her foe was enjoying itself... ''You are certainly a strong one, child...'' It mocked as it stood back up.
''Do not underestimate me!'' She shouted back, before throwing herself back at her adversary...
/-/
The fight with the Piscine Captain was as brief as she'd expected. It had taken only three charges at the enemy before it had collapsed to the floor, and a fourth strike whilst it was down had ended the beast's life.
As it had faded away from this world, she saw to retrieve its sword, which had strangely begun to change its form. The cutlass like blade had become more akin to a katana and began to emit a strange red aura around it, the misty cave beginning to glow red as the aura lit up the mist.
Against her better judgement, she picked the weapon up. Even a fool wouldn't use a blade like this as their main weapon, not when it glowed with a red aura that could only be described as an inhuman anger and bloodlust present in the blade as she held it. The type that could easily make a person lose sight of themselves and give into their primal rage...
No, she was no fool, nor would she make use of the blade; her current blade being a far more suitable choice instead, with its less... well, mind controlling features. Still though, it had to be a quest item, surely? It was too obvious an item just be a rare drop, and no one in their right mind would use such an item; even the most arrogant or reckless of souls would think twice about letting their blade control them!
As her pondering on the blade in front of her took her situational awareness away from her in part, a noticeable echo rang through the cave, and she craned her neck around to scan the room.
Five players behind her, the leader of them continuing to clap. All of them in dark cloaks with weapons in hand, and worse still... all five had orange cursors.
''I do not know what business you believe you have here, but I would advise you to leave!'' She steeled herself, projecting an air of unwarranted confidence. If it came to a fight, one she could certainly handle, two would be in the best-case scenario, three could be achievable with the best of luck but five of them... the odds were well and truly against her.
''That's cute, isn't it? She thinks she can actually take us all on, and live...'' The way that the grinning man stated that ran a shiver down her spine. That was the tone of someone who'd killed before, and worse still for her... that was the tone of someone who'd enjoyed it.
''Ooh! Boss! I've got an idea, how about we play a little game?'' The one furthest to his left piped up, his tone far too gleeful for it to be any form of good news.
''I would rather not. You are in my way, so I would strongly advise you move.''
''Oh, would you now... Sanya?'' The man to the leader's right spoke up. Compared to the leader, he was a bit shorter with a slightly raspier voice. His eyes were obscured, but unlike the others who all wore their cloaks low to obscure their faces, this one wore some kind of chainmail hood beneath his cloak. The smirk on his face though, was one that would remain in her nightmares
''How-how do you know my name?'' She felt her muscles tense up involuntarily. Who were these people? How did they know her name?
''That orphanage of yours. How many children are there now, what, eighty? Oh, just think of what we could do with them... the soldiers we could have!''
''Or the spies.'' One of the hooded men stated, his expression remaining perfectly neutral.
''Just think of their screams, Sanya. Just think how much fun we could have...''
That assessment soon changed her views of the creatures stood in front of her. They were not men, but monsters. ''What even are you...'' She snarled.
''I'm the Prince of Hell...'' He grinned, his poncho obscuring most of his face except for the that twisted smirk. The smirk of a predator that had not only caught his prey, but was about to devour it too... ''But you can call me PoH...''
/- About a week later -/
Nanairo looked up from the veritable mass of books in front of her and sighed. Degree work was relatively straightforward for someone of her intellect - it was the sheer amount of typing that was the less than enjoyable part. She honestly wondered if it were possible to develop a repetitive strain injury from constantly typing for twelve or thirteen hours a day. A quick search had revealed it was, and she'd looked for something to divide her time: fun, and work.
Upon telling her father, he'd put her forward to help with the task of assisting the players of the wretched game of Sword Art Online, and she'd been almost gleeful at the prospect of actually being able to make use of her intellect to help on a larger scale. She knew that would make people wonder for her sanity, but to her, fun was something that you enjoyed, no matter how bizarre. To her, fun was the prospect of being able to make a change to benefit the people of the world around her. That seemed so much more rewarding than getting her degree, and she made sure that she spent her spare time creating potential solutions for her work experience on the Aincrad Task Force, as it had been unofficially christened.
Still though, she'd been advised by her employer that she was still young, and that she shouldn't burn herself out. That, in his own words, was a job for the adults involved - a sentiment she had reservations about. She was still a certified genius after all, why shouldn't she put her all into it?
It wasn't as if she had a social life, so to speak. Her colleagues on the ATF were all considerably older, and often, just her presence made them uncomfortable, let alone the thought of socialising with her, and she would admit to the same thing. Even though she got on better with her elders, she still struggled socially. They would often go on about how she shouldn't waste her life with flights of fancy, or that she should just find a profitable career and stick with it.
People her own age on the other hand - well, she would admit that she found socialising with them somewhat tedious. Often, they had no plans for their lives, or were so incredibly immature that she found herself simply nodding along with whatever they were on about. The others looked at her as if she were some kind of freak, and rather than outright tell her their opinions, they would pretend to get along with her, and then makes jokes about her behind her back. Her father had calmed her down by telling her that they were just jealous that they weren't that smart, and that she shouldn't take any notice of them. All of that had been about two months ago and since then, she'd been working on a program to create a backdoor in her spare time, for which she'd been sent a NerveGear by her employer.
It was during her examination of the device that she'd come to a conclusion - she'd need to be inside the game to actually make a difference. She'd read the reports from authorities, and some from well meaning white hat hackers, who'd set off one of the myriad of systems in the NerveGear, and the results had been very simple. The fail-deadly device triggered, and a life was lost with only the most minimal detail on the system gleamed.
If she were to make a difference and free the poor souls trapped in the death game, she would have to sacrifice her freedom, and enter the game herself. But before she did, she needed a name. Her name needed to say something about her, tell people who she was without telling them everything...
Her father had often called her ''his little rainbow'', so perhaps Rainbow? No, that sounded awkward, and according to the player database, there was already a player in the game who went by the name ''Rain'', so that was out. Hmm, a rainbow had seven colours to it, traditionally, so perhaps... yes, she would be Seven!
She picked up the helmet, and checked that the cartridge was in. She'd rather not be killed because she hadn't done the most basic of due diligence before she entered the game - that would just be embarrassing! Plugging everything in, she took up a position on her bed, and spoke the words that would change her life...
''Link... START!''