At night, inside a closed food shop, Aomine could be seen calmly sweeping the floor. The silence of the place was only broken by the sound of the bristles against the tiles. His expression looked distracted, as if the broom moved on its own while his mind wandered elsewhere.
(Surely they're all already at a high level… will I be able to catch up from zero?) —he thought, pressing his lips with a hint of insecurity.
Just then, soft footsteps could be heard approaching from the back door. Turning his gaze, he found Rin, who looked directly at him.
The atmosphere tensed immediately. Since that failed date attempt, things between them hadn't been entirely comfortable.
—Are you going to keep this up? —Rin questioned with a slightly annoyed tone, crossing her arms.
Aomine let out a deep sigh. He lowered the broom, and with an almost childish gesture, diverted his gaze to the floor.
—Of course I am… —he replied with a chibi-like dramatic air, his eyes glossy as if he were about to cry at any moment—. You made me go pick you up in the middle of a pajama party… with the excuse that, as your "boyfriend," I had to show up to take you!
He paused and, with an exaggerated gesture of annoyance, continued:
—And in the end they just used me as a mannequin for dresses and hairstyles! Since I'm almost your height, they thought it was fine…
Hearing him, Rin couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, covering her mouth with one hand.
—Do you really still remember that? You exaggerate too much… —she said with a mocking hint, though her cheeks flushed slightly.
Aomine lifted his gaze, pouting childishly, still holding the broom as if it were a cane supporting his complaint.
—That's not something you forget so easily!
The awkward air from before began to dissipate, replaced by a strange warmth between the two.
—So then…? What do you want now? —Aomine asked, changing the subject somewhat abruptly.
She looked at him. There was hesitation in her eyes, as if what she was about to say felt difficult, even embarrassing.
(Wait… don't tell me… did she fall for me?) —Aomine thought with a lump in his throat.
—Well, I would like us to… —her voice trembled, and Aomine swallowed hard, anticipating something he wasn't ready to hear.
Then, the phrase dropped like a bucket of cold water.
—I want us to end this farce.—I'm sorry, you're not my type.
A heavy silence wrapped them for a few seconds. Both lifted their gaze at the same time, realizing in that instant the real meaning behind the other's words.
—Eh…? You just rejected me without me even confessing —Rin murmured, surprised.
—Eto… you have to admit your way of talking gave off that vibe —Aomine replied, scratching his head awkwardly—. But I accept it, it's better to end it once and for all. I can't keep up with your pace… and I know in the end this will remain like a strange dream. Thanks.
Without adding anything else, he picked up the cleaning tools from the floor and headed to the kitchen, resuming his duties as if nothing had happened.
When his shift ended, with the place already closed, Aomine leaned against the door and watched Rin walk away. She approached a young man who seemed to be waiting for her outside. They spoke closely, with smiles that clearly showed the trust between them.
(I guess she found a partner… that's why she decided to end it all. I'm happy for her, I suppose… but at the same time, I feel a little envious. I too would like to step into that happiness and stop being alone all the time…)
With a heavy sigh, Aomine turned around. He walked away from the place, yawning as he headed to his apartment, trying to convince himself that the next day everything would be easier to forget.
In a place of pure darkness, a white staircase emerged from nothing, creating an infinite path that ascended toward the unknown.
A man walked it with firm steps. His expression was impossible to describe, as if something invisible blocked his true face; a veil that, when one tried to comprehend it, generated fear in the mind of whoever observed him.
The only clear thing was his attire: a long white coat, resembling a lab coat, swayed slightly with each step. Beneath it, a dark gray shirt with a tie of the same tone, held by a metallic clip that faintly gleamed. Impeccable black trousers fell straight to the leather shoes that echoed with every stride. Formality and mystery, science and menace, all in a single figure.
The silence was broken by his voice, deep and steady, seemingly directed at the void:
—Throughout time, mankind has always evolved in different ways… for better or for worse. But it always falls into the same cruel lie: perfection. They believe they've reached it, without understanding the weight of those words. As Heraclitus said, as Euripides shouted: "He who refuses to learn in his youth is lost in the past and dead for the future."
He paused, and his steps continued.
—That is what has happened. This world lost itself in its past and refuses to move forward. But everything can change. The human soul can be molded, reconstructed, forced to evolve. Youth… they are the key. And true learning can only be reached through pain and suffering.
The declaration lingered in the void, as if the invisible walls of that eternal plane absorbed it.
Then, beside him, a gigantic hologram unfolded: a floating castle. A colossal fortress suspended among clouds tinted by an eternal sunset. Its shape was that of a needle piercing the skies, with rings of stone and metal marking the floors of a world within another.
The man raised his hand, touching the air with the tip of his index finger. The image obeyed his gesture: the castle drew closer, growing until its walls, towers, and engravings seemed to surround him completely.
And before he realized, he was no longer facing the hologram: he was there. At the top.
The wind blew strong, with a metallic, fresh scent. The horizon stretched beneath his feet and, around him, an impossible garden unfolded. Perfect paths, flawless grass, flowers of every color lined like a living canvas.
Beyond, curved structures resembled giant petals embracing the central castle, rising toward the sky in imposing harmony. The golden sunlight filtered through them, bathing the place in an artificial divinity.
Luminous sparks floated like eternal fireflies. The air vibrated with calm and majesty.A constructed paradise.A dreamlike stage to receive those who dared to set foot at the colossus' entrance.
The man walked calmly through that garden, paradise to anyone's eyes. The sound of water accompanied him as he crossed a small bridge; below, a waterfall plunged into the abyss.
He stopped.His eyes drifted into the movement of the descending water, and for an instant… a silhouette appeared in his memory: someone standing in that same abyss, about to fall. Other figures joined in, blurry, like wandering souls.
Yet, he ignored them.With firm steps, he continued until reaching imposing doors. Upon opening them, the garden's light vanished at once. Everything was covered in darkness, except for a faint illumination revealing five figures.
They were hooded, dressed in blood-red robes, decorated with fine golden lines that stood out in the shadows. Upon noticing his entrance, the five figures turned their heads in unison, staring at him in silence.
—Seems the time has come, Kayaba —said a deep voice.
—Yes… though we could've started much earlier, don't you think? —another spoke, in a tone of complaint.
—I'd say there's too much mystery in helping a bunch of simple monkeys evolve… —laughed another.
—Perhaps, but it'll be entertaining to see how they break… and rebuild themselves to survive.
A third, lower in tone, whispered barely audible:
—…I just want to see her a little longer.
The man, whose identity had remained unknown until then, was now revealed clearly: Kayaba Akihiko.He stopped in front of the table of the dark hall. With a snap of his fingers, he materialized a virtual purple heart that floated in the air, beating uneasily.
His smile appeared, but that curve on his lips conveyed neither warmth nor sincerity.To those present, however, it didn't matter.
Kayaba raised his gaze, and with a gleam in his eyes declared:
—Then, with this we begin the new world.Let the game begin!
The darkness vibrated at his words.
As the heart vanished into the air, crossing the loneliness of the moment, the entire castle began to tremble.
A metallic roar, as if a thousand hidden gears activated at once, spread through the walls. Extinguished torches lit up with blue flames, illuminating the dark corridors. The windows released a sinister glow and, little by little, each floor of that cursed fortress came alive.
From the first level to the ninety-ninth, creatures of all forms and sizes emerged from the shadows.
On the first floor, packs of crimson-eyed wolves lined up in perfect formation, as if awaiting prey.
On the fifteenth floor, hordes of orcs wielding rusty swords crowded the corridors, shouting with a tearing echo.
On the thirtieth floor, knights in black armor rose from their slumber, dragging their massive lances while hollow breaths escaped their empty helmets.
On the fiftieth floor, skeletal dragons spread their wings and began circling, covering the inner skies with a bone-chilling flap.
And so, each floor had its own challenge, each worse than the last.
But at the top, on the ninety-ninth floor, a solitary figure remained seated on a dark throne, surrounded by a silence even more terrifying than the roars of the beasts below.
The castle was no longer just a building: it had become a living labyrinth, a testing ground destined to devour those who dared to climb.
As the sun illuminated the city, the giant broadcast screens lit up with excitement. A female voice, full of energy, resounded from the street speakers and home TVs:
—It's time for this week's new MMO broadcast! We start with a promotional video. Could this be the scene of the most anticipated day in the gaming world? That's right… Sword Art Online!
The image changed, showing endless lines of people in front of specialty stores. Some waved pre-order tickets, others proudly displayed the game box in front of cameras as if holding a treasure. It was 11:30 a.m., and the city seemed to revolve around that event.
In a small apartment, Aomine watched the broadcast while finishing lunch.
—Thanks for the meal —he muttered to himself, leaving the chopsticks on the empty plate.
Calmly, he set about tidying the table, rinsed the dishes, and left the kitchen spotless. Each movement was almost automatic, his mind already elsewhere: inside the virtual world that awaited him.
The reporter continued in her cheerful tone, talking about player numbers, live interviews, and anecdotes of those who had camped out for two days to be the first. But Aomine barely paid attention. His gaze shifted to the phone vibrating insistently.
Group notifications:—/I'm already set!/—/I'm leaving class./—/I'm finishing my shift./—/I just had lunch./
Aomine smiled faintly, before pressing the side button and turning off the screen.
—It's almost time… —he whispered.
He headed to the bathroom. The hot shower water relaxed his tense muscles, and upon leaving, steam still filled the small space. He dried quickly, glanced at the wall clock, and widened his eyes slightly in surprise: 12:58 p.m.
He walked to his room, drying his hair with a towel. There, on his student desk, awaited the NerveGear helmet, pristine, like a sacred artifact. He let himself fall into his cushioned chair, reclining as if it were an improvised bed.
With a faint tickle in his chest, he lifted the helmet, adjusted it with both hands, and placed it on his head. Inside, a digital number began to appear before his eyes: 13:00 p.m.
A loading bar glowed, indicating the helmet was ready, still connected and powered. Aomine's heart beat in rhythm with the filling bar.
He closed his eyes. One last deep breath. And then, in silence, with a firm and clear mental voice, he pronounced the words that would change his life:
—Link Start!
Particles of different colors rushed before his eyes like flashes of shooting stars. Little by little, those lights gathered until forming a shining logo in the air.
"ARGUS, Express Your Vision"
A robotic voice, cold but clear, echoed in his head as a translucent menu appeared.
—Welcome to Sword Art Online. Before starting, please accept the terms and conditions. You may skip this process if you wish.
Without overthinking, he accepted. The system advanced immediately, showing new options: language selection, account verification, and the option to transfer data obtained in the beta to the current account.
Once finished, a new phrase appeared before him.
"Welcome to Sword Art Online. Enjoy your stay."
Although he still couldn't speak within the system, his emotions were clear. The anxiety, mixed with strong excitement, kept him from staying still.
Suddenly, his body was engulfed in red flames that consumed him entirely, as if he were trapped in a prison of blue and scarlet fire. In the next instant, that prison vanished into ashes, revealing a new world.
He found himself in the middle of a great plaza bathed in digital sunlight. Behind him rose a dark stone obelisk that seemed to guard the city's entrance. Around, the streets pulsed with the energy of thousands of players who had just materialized, all smiling and celebrating the start of their adventure.
The crowd's buzz surrounded him, but he barely noticed. His lips curved into a faint smile as he looked around.
—Well… they said we'd meet here, in the middle of the Town of Beginnings' Plaza. But… —his voice lowered, sounding more like a merchant's whisper searching for opportunities— they didn't say anything about me not being able to look around or shop.
When he was about to continue on his way to buy items from the merchants leaving the plaza, a female voice resounded as if piercing through all the murmurs of the players talking among themselves.
—I'm looking for a friend!
That simple shout, spoken with such firm and elevated tone, managed to silence the entire plaza. All gazes turned to her, even Aomine's, who had been walking away.
He observed her for a few seconds, eyebrow raised.
—(So demanding… you've got the voice of a politician.)
Without giving it any more importance, he kept moving forward, leaving the commotion behind, as if it were one of those scenes from an old western movie, with the hero walking in rhythm with an invisible wind.
Aomine approached the merchants, walking past the stalls with a challenging look, as if he could sniff out the best deals among the crowd. The vendors looked at him nervously, as if a predator were evaluating their merchandise.
Suddenly, at the weapons stall, a merchant shouted to get his attention:
—Big sale on swords! Buy two, and I'll throw in… a reinforced broomstick!
Aomine stopped in his tracks, furrowed his brow, and looked at him as if about to declare a duel. The merchant swallowed hard.
But after a few seconds of tension, Aomine crossed his arms and murmured:
—(Damn… smells like a good deal).
The epic movie-like atmosphere shattered instantly. Some players around let out suppressed laughter, while he, with all the seriousness in the world, began haggling over the ridiculous reinforced broomstick.
(I won't give in, I still have plenty of money) —Aomine thought as the hours passed. He had already bought too much; he carried so many items he looked like a traveling merchant, with backpacks, bags, and even weapons hanging as if they were cheap luggage. Still, his eyes lit up when he found a rapier at a low price.
(I can't believe they give me this much money just for logging in. I'm on a lucky streak… and this rapier would be perfect for Nina, she likes supporting from the back, covering us… something light would help her a lot) —he thought with a smile, approaching the stall.
—I want this rapier.
—I want this rapier.
Two voices in unison. One was Aomine's; the other, a female voice. They both looked at each other in surprise.
The young woman had long, silky hair, the color of afternoon sunlight, cascading down to her waist. Her deep amber eyes shone with a defiant glint. She wore a simple white long-sleeved blouse, like a blank canvas, over which she had a scarlet red vest. A short skirt of the same tone, adorned with ribbons, cinched her waist with an interwoven belt. Her white boots reached her ankles, fastened with straps matching her vest and skirt.
—I'll offer double for it! —Aomine said quickly.
—Wait, wait, I saw it first! —the girl complained.
—And I counter-offer for it! —Aomine replied.
—Why? Look at how many things you have! You look like a grocer. Leave something for others. Didn't they teach you that ladies go first? —she argued, crossing her arms.
—I'm a firm believer in gender equality, and I don't like women using equality to take everything. So I pay! —Aomine said, puffing out his chest as if delivering a heroic speech.
With determination, he pressed the rapier's purchase button. But the rejection sound rang out like a mocking trumpet. He tried again… and the same beep happened. With each failure, his embarrassment grew.
—Sorry, sir, but the rapier costs 1,000 coins, and you don't have that amount —informed the NPC at the stall, expressionless as always.
—I… I know —Aomine said, lowering his head.
—Hehehe —the girl laughed mockingly, almost musically. Then she pressed the button and bought the rapier without issue, showing it to Aomine as if it were a trophy.
Aomine gritted his teeth.—You won this battle, but not the war. Next time, I, Misuki, will be victorious.
—It was just a coincidence… but if you insist, I accept that challenge —she replied with a playful smile.
The girl walked away, approaching a tall man waiting a few steps ahead. His appearance was peculiar: he wore a one-piece female suit with thigh-high boots and a white cape. His face, in contrast, was rough and hoarse, with intense red eyes, light purple hair, and a chin of the same tone.
Without thinking, Aomine caught up with them.—Wait!
Both looked at him. The man spoke first, with a deep voice:—Do you want something from her?
—Well… I want to know her name —Aomine replied, trying to sound firm, though his voice trembled slightly.
—And why should I tell you? —the man asked, frowning.
—I want to know the name of the person who defeated me in a purchase. It's… for my pride —Aomine declared, with more courage than he actually felt.
The atmosphere seemed tense, but at that moment, a hand rested on Aomine's shoulder. A man, about the same height as the purple-haired avatar or perhaps slightly taller, appeared with a calm smile.
—Aomine… there you are. Looking for trouble on your first day? —he said serenely.
Aomine was about to reply, but the purple-haired man simply turned away, ignoring the matter. The girl followed him, though before leaving she turned and raised a hand in apology.
—My name is Asuna. I hope to compete with you in a purchase again, next time, Misuki-san. —She smiled before disappearing into the crowd.
Aomine watched her leave, still annoyed. Then the newcomer poked him in the side with an elbow.
—Well, well… winning over girls on your first day, huh? You're quite the charmer —he joked.
—Shut up, Subaru! —Aomine growled.
—No, no, no! I told you here I'm called Michael —he corrected in a friendly tone.
—Yeah, sure. You love the Bible so much that in the beta you were Gabriel, then Angel, and now Michael… —Aomine said in a chibi tone, puffing his cheeks in annoyance.
—You always have to respect God, don't you think? —Michael replied, striking a enlightened pose.
Aomine just sighed, resigned.(This guy will never change…)
In a green meadow that looked like it had been painted with meticulous detail, the landscape stretched like a perfect stage recreated within the game. Aomine walked alongside Michael, who opened his player menu while adjusting some settings. Gradually, his armor disappeared, dissolving into metallic sparks until revealing a different outfit.
A navy blue uniform, elegant and well-fitted, appeared in its place, adorned with golden buttons and a belt enhancing his posture. Michael's silver hair, now free and tousled by the breeze, shone like strands of crystal under the midday sun.
—Much better this way —he murmured with a calm smile, flexing his fingers as if confirming the comfort of his new appearance.
—And how did you manage to find me without even having me added as a friend yet? —Aomine asked with genuine intrigue.
Michael smiled, enjoying the moment.—It was easy. I just deduced that you would buy everything you could to gear up. You did it in the beta, so it was obvious you'd repeat it in the official launch. Although… now that I think about it, you changed your hair. Before it was blonde, now it's completely black. Don't you like your natural color?
Aomine looked away, a little uncomfortable.—Tch… am I really that easy to read? —he sighed before answering quietly—. Honestly, my hair has always caused problems. On my first day at work and even in class, everyone looked at me as if I were a delinquent. But when I became the "brains" of the class, everything changed… I guess.
Michael squinted, still smiling.—Hehe, it happens. Most people judge by appearances first, like judges in a court. That's how the world works. It will be up to you to change that perspective… with your actions.
Aomine looked at him thoughtfully.—You might be right… —he murmured, before changing the subject—. So, where is everyone else?
—Don't worry, Misuki-san, they're waiting under that tree over there —Michael replied, pointing with a finger, emphasizing the name mockingly.
—Hey! That's a good name. Besides, you were the one who told me to choose a better one than the last —Aomine said, annoyed.
Michael laughed heartily.—Yes, of course, but the previous one was pure art: "Big Lang".
He said it laughing, so much that Aomine brought a hand to his forehead, embarrassed.—Don't say it out loud, damn it!
The sound grew clearer as they advanced. It wasn't just music: there was something in it that resonated deep in the chest, as if each note stirred dormant memories.
The three girls around the young woman watched her with different expressions: one seemed to enjoy herself without reserve, clapping along; another watched silently, analyzing each chord; while the third followed the rhythm, moving her lips slightly, humming softly.
The boy, however, stood with arms crossed, his relaxed posture contrasting with the intensity in which he fixed his gaze on the performer.
Michael slowed his pace slightly, as if not to interrupt the scene.—She has a strong presence… and not just because of the music.
Aomine nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on the instrument, which seemed to vibrate with its own energy.—Yes… she's different. She doesn't seem to be playing for them, not even for herself. It's like the music is playing through her.
A gust of wind passed through the tree branches, lifting leaves that twirled in the air before falling around the group. White sparks floating over the melody intertwined with the leaves, creating a fleeting spectacle that made everything feel suspended in an eternal moment.
The young woman in blue slowly opened her eyes, which had been closed until then, and upon seeing Michael and Aomine a few meters away, she smiled, illuminating the scene like an unexpected flash.
Michael barely turned his head toward the newcomer. His light, direct voice immediately closed the distance between them.
—Hello, I didn't see you with them when I left, do you want to join our team?
The girl tilted her head gently, letting out a mischievous giggle.
—Ehehe, you were right… she quickly trusts people —she said with a wide smile.
Michael scratched his neck, swaying side to side, pretending to be shy.—I don't deserve so many compliments…
The words barely left his mouth when the other three interrupted him in unison, annoyed.
—We're not complimenting you!
The air seemed to vibrate for a second due to the synchronization. Michael blinked, surprised, while the girl kept her smile intact.
—So… what do you say? Eeehmm… —he murmured, leaving the phrase unfinished.
The answer came clear and bright.
—Yuna. Nice to meet you. —Her voice sounded fresh, accompanied by a warm expression.
—A pleasure, Yuna. I'll introduce myself properly —said Michael with a slight smile, making a broad gesture with his hand—. Although you already know them, it's better to do it properly.
He stepped forward, and with the same naturalness as a master of ceremonies, began pointing one by one.
First, the young woman holding a bow firmly, her posture upright and gaze sharp, always alert to her surroundings.—The one with the bow is Historia.
The forest light filtered through the branches, caressing Historia's light brown hair, which cascaded down to her shoulders. Her serene expression conveyed calm, but in her eyes shone the same determination she displayed when drawing her bowstring. She was the kind of person whose mere presence could decide a battle.
Michael continued, pointing to the firm figure beside her.—The best combat bodyguard, Elsa.
Elsa, with her confident posture and the gaze of someone who would never back down, barely tilted her head in greeting. Her fitted white armor highlighted her controlled movements, like a wolf ready to leap.
With a broad gesture, Michael pointed to the most robust member of the group, standing with a frank smile.—The big-hearted guy, Gundou.
The young man with messy black hair radiated a mix of strength and approachability. He wore light brown armor, secured with metal straps that subtly glinted under the filtered sunlight. Underneath, a white tunic created a striking contrast: purity and battle in one body. His enormous, solid shield rested on his left arm, serving as both weapon and declaration of principles.
Finally, with a more neutral tone but no less importance, Michael placed his hand on the shoulder of the person next to him.—And last, but not least... our strategist and somewhat greedy companion: Misuki.
—Misuki…? —Historia narrowed her eyes slightly, frowning as if she hadn't fully accepted that description.
A gentle breeze blew at that moment, swaying the leaves and lifting a few rebellious strands of Historia's bangs while her gaze fixed on the young man named.
—Uhmm… I think… it's a name —muttered Gundou, scratching the back of his neck and looking at Misuki with some curiosity.
Gundou had black, messy hair that seemed to refuse any order. His very presence conveyed firmness, like an unbreakable wall. He wore light brown armor that hugged his torso and shoulders, supported by metal straps that reflected a subtle shine under the ambient light.
Beneath that armor, he wore a fitted white tunic, a marked contrast between purity and battle that spoke for itself. At his side rested a shield, naturally held, serving not only as defense but also as an emblem of his conviction. With every movement, Gundou projected the impression of someone determined, someone who would not back down from any obstacle.
—Uhmm, compared to Michael, who sounds uncomfortable… Misuki is a nice name —said Elsa with a small smile that softened her features.
Her long blonde hair fell in free waves down to her waist, shining brightly in the light. Her golden eyes, firm and determined, contrasted with her calm and distant expression. She wore light armor in silver and white tones, reinforced with blue details covering her arms and legs, giving her an elegant yet imposing air.
At her side rested her sword, a reflection of her warrior spirit. However, despite the coldness her stance conveyed, the faint, shy smile revealed a more human, close, and warm facet.
—(I knew Elsa-tan would like it…) —thought Misuki, letting out a hopeful smile, tears glimmering in his eyes.
—A pleasure to meet all of you. I had already met Gundou-san, Historia, Elsa, and, thanks to your friends, I knew as much as possible about you. But Misuki-san… he's the one I heard the most about. Everyone describes him as someone very late. Regarding the proposal, if you don't mind, I'd like to join with another friend as well. Though… they said they'd arrive a little late —explained Yuna calmly.
The five original members gathered in a circle, as if it were an impromptu meeting. For a couple of minutes, they silently observed her, exchanging glances before resuming the conversation. Finally, Michael stepped forward and spoke on behalf of the group.
—Alright, we'll wait. But in that case, you'll have to tell us where to meet. We've planned to advance to the other cities; after all, we're speedrunners. This way, we can get everything before others… you understand, right? —said Michael seriously.
—Yes, I understand. But it's not bad, right? I mean… others also play, have fun, and gain experience. That shouldn't be considered cheating —responded Yuna, tilting her head.
Michael frowned thoughtfully, then shrugged.
—Ehmm… I don't know. They might call us "betas"… that's how they see us. Although, to be honest, we are. I more than anyone —he stated proudly.
—Really? —asked Yuna, surprised.
—Yes. Although it may not seem like it, this guy was the first to complete the beta before it fully closed —interjected Aomine, in a heavy, almost mocking tone.
Michael looked away, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.—I don't deserve so many compliments… —he said, embarrassed.
They had all gathered outside the initial city, on the road heading South. The group waited among murmurs and plans when, suddenly, Yuna reappeared with them. She had disconnected briefly to confirm where to meet her friend, and now returned with a satisfied expression, as if she had just completed an important task.
—Ready, they'll be here in a few minutes —she said with a calm smile.
The group was just beginning to resume the conversation when a loud crash interrupted the calm. The ground shook under a rumble like a herd of rampaging boars. Everyone turned toward the source of the noise… and what they saw was a man running wildly in their direction.
When he finally reached them, he was utterly exhausted. He breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling violently, while leaning on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. Sweat ran down his forehead, soaking strands of his messy dark hair.
His outfit, in dark tones, consisted of a black tunic with purple accents that fluttered with every breath. A tightly fastened belt held his clothes firmly, and at his side rested a dagger whose blade gleamed with a dangerous aura. Around him floated glowing violet energy petals, as if his own effort had summoned them.
Though exhaustion dominated him, a spark of determination still burned in his eyes, keeping him standing. A warrior who, even gasping, refused to surrender.
—Yu… Yuna-chan! —he managed to say with a tired smile.
—Hello —responded Yuna, calm in contrast to the spectacle before her.
—It's a pleasure to see you… —he began, extending his hand to greet her, but immediately noticed the gazes of the whole group fixed on them.
—How straightforward, I like it —commented Michael playfully.
—I wouldn't say that, we ruined your moment —added Aomine, almost as if narrating the disaster.
—A man who can't get over embarrassment is nothing but an idiot —declared Historia coldly.
—It's not that bad, if you see it that way he'll die of embarrassment… —added Elsa more gently.
The newcomer's face turned so red it looked like his head was about to steam like a chimney. Yet he took a deep breath, composed himself, and stepped forward to stand in front of Yuna, speaking in a halting but firm voice:
—You… who are you? What do you want with Yuna?
Michael looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow.—Uhmm… reminds me of the outfit you wore in the beta. Though, from what I see, you probably spent money on the game the first day —he commented suspiciously.
—Could be —added Aomine mockingly—, but your combination is far inferior to mine.
Elsa, on the other hand, smiled slightly and let the phrase fall as if it were a confession:—I think he's cute… especially when protecting Yuna-chi.
As the comments continued, Keiky couldn't help blushing more and more. Michael, with his classic confident smile, stepped toward him while the newcomer went on the defensive as if cornered.
—Hello, my name is Michael, nice to meet you. Yuna spoke a lot about you. Your qualities will be useful to our group —he said cheerfully.
—Eh? About me? What did she say? —asked Keiky, excited, his eyes shining like a puppy receiving praise.
(Looks like a little puppy who melts when told something nice) —thought Aomine in chibi version, crossing his arms.
Keiky, realizing his behavior, straightened up immediately, trying to regain composure. He extended his hand rigidly and responded almost robotically:
—Nice to meet you too… my name is Keiky.
A suppressed laugh ran through the group. It was subtle but impossible to hide. The name seemed strange to them, and Keiky noticed immediately, reacting with offense and embarrassment.
—But… wasn't your name E…? —one of them tried to say.
Immediately, Keiky covered his mouth with his hand, and with the other made the gesture for silence.
—Yuna-chan! Here we use other names, you know? I already told you not to use your real name —he said hurriedly, his face red.
But soon he noticed something strange… his hand was wet. Upon removing it, he found it covered in Yuna's saliva, who looked at him with a pout.
—That was rude, you know? You asked for it —said Yuna, frowning.
—Ugh! —Keiky jumped back, shaking his hand in disgust.
The group watched the interaction with serious expressions, silently evaluating the "peculiar relationship" they were witnessing. Time passed, and near 4:00 p.m., Michael approached again, this time with a playful sparkle in his eyes.
—It's nice that you get along so well. But you know, Keiky, now I'd like to see how well you fit into the team. Would you show me? —he asked provocatively.
(Here we go again…) thought Aomine.(His bad habit…) sighed Gundou.(This will be fun…) got excited Historia.(I hope they don't leave…) worried Elsa.
—Eh? Show…? —Keiky swallowed nervously.
Moments later, the forest echoed with the steps of the whole group. Historia, Elsa, Gundou, Aomine, and Keiky ran desperately, holding jars of honey, trying to store them in their inventories. Up ahead, Yuna ran lightly, leading without losing her smile.
Around them, a swarm of giant Rear Bees pursued them, buzzing furiously.
—Why the hell are we doing this?! —shouted Keiky, his voice breaking with pure panic.
—Missions like this appear suddenly. You must be prepared for the unexpected —replied Michael, clearly enjoying the situation.
—This is fun, even if it's a little scary! —Yuna laughed from the front, as if this were a children's game.
—See? Yuna likes it. You should have her attitude, Keiky-san —declared Michael, provocatively.
—Damn it!!! —shouted Keiky, on the verge of collapse.
The frantic chase led them almost to the edge of the forest, with the City of Beginnings visible to the north, but they were exiting to the south… A bell rang.
It shouldn't have been heard from that direction. Yet it was.
Everyone froze. Aomine was about to comment when suddenly a field of fire surrounded them. The flames rose like living walls, cutting off any escape route.
The more experienced ones were stunned, instincts on high alert. Yuna, however, seemed to think it was some kind of system bonus.
It was exactly 5:10 p.m.
At that moment, in front of the small obelisk where everyone had appeared when logging in, the bell rang again, with a strange force, proclaiming the exact same time.
The place, once silent, was now filled with confused expressions, murmurs, and cries of uncertainty. No one understood what was happening. The bell, once loud and constant, gradually faded, replaced by a metallic, deep sound, almost like an apocalyptic alarm.
Suddenly, a player among the crowd raised his head to the sky, pointing with a trembling finger.
—What is that! —he shouted.
Hundreds of eyes followed the direction of his gesture. Above, suspended in the firmament, a sign reading "ERROR" glowed in red and white tones, emitting that disturbing sound. The symbol trembled, vibrated, and within seconds began expanding until it covered the entire sky, forming a luminous dome that sealed the city.
The entire square of the City of Beginnings was trapped.
Murmurs turned into screams of panic; some players hugged each other, others tried to run even though there was no way out.
The "ERROR" then began to melt. A thick, bright red liquid, like fresh blood, slowly dripped from the tear in the sky. The sight made everyone's skin crawl; it was too real, too dense to be a simple graphic effect.
But the liquid blood didn't touch the ground. It remained suspended in the air, forming a floating mass that crackled with violet lightning, as if the world itself was collapsing into unstable energy.
The mass deformed. It stretched. Twisted. And finally, it took the shape of a gigantic humanoid, wrapped in a black robe with crimson details. The air grew heavy. The figure opened its arms, as if embracing everyone, instilling fear with its mere presence.
Keiky stepped back, swallowing hard.—That is…
But he didn't finish.
—Darth Sidious! —shouted Michael without holding back.
An awkward silence spread. Several players around him turned to look at him oddly. His group, who had been watching the scene with bated breath, now looked at him with a mix of annoyance and bewilderment.
—You and your Star Wars references… —complained Aomine in chibi version, a sweat drop on his forehead.
—Hey, I had the opportunity and I took it! —Michael replied, shrugging.
Historia opened her mouth to intervene, but before she could say anything, a new voice resonated from the dark figure, silencing all other noise.
—Attention, players… Welcome to the new world. My name is Akihiko Kayaba. From this moment on, I am the only person capable of controlling this world… and all its players.
The echo of those words reverberated throughout the square.
—Kayaba… Akihiko? —asked Aomine, doubtful, almost as if he wasn't sure he should recognize the name.
—Eh?! You don't know him? —Keiky looked at him incredulously.
Aomine lowered his head, scratching the back of his neck.—Uhmm… honestly, I only entered this game to be with my friends…
Gundou, serious, with tension marked on his features, placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Aomine felt the pressure and knew even he was nervous.
—Akihiko Kayaba is the creator of the NerveGear… and also of this game. He is the first man to achieve full immersion of the human mind in a virtual world. Scientist, doctor, a technology genius… famous in many parts of the world.
—Ooooh… —muttered Aomine, slowly turning his gaze upward toward the colossal being floating in the dome.
Now they knew his name.Now they knew who they were facing.
Akihiko Kayaba.
—Before we begin everything… I want both those present here and those observing from the real world to understand one thing clearly —declared Kayaba coldly.
At that moment, small metallic spheres began surrounding the crowd of players. They soon realized what they were: cameras. They were being broadcast.
Meanwhile, in Tokyo, the nightly routine halted. Office workers leaving work, families walking through illuminated streets, and young people gathering in busy neighborhoods all looked up at giant screens, which normally displayed advertisements and news. Now all screens glitched as if hacked. The interference disappeared instantly, replaced by the City of Beginnings Square.
Some teenagers looked at each other enviously.
—Damn, now they're showing it on the big screen!—I should've skipped class to be in the line for the 10,000 copies…—So jealous! So jealous!
But among the adults, the reaction was different. At first, they took it as clever marketing, a "special event" for the new game. However, the realism was so striking that many stopped, unable to look away from the broadcast.
#Broadcast: Sword Art Online#
—Alright, with everyone present paying attention to this broadcast —said Kayaba, his voice spreading through both the virtual dome and the country's screens—, I will begin.
I've heard your complaints about the logout button… not appearing or not working. —While speaking, he showed the configuration panel to demonstrate the button was indeed missing—. And I want to be very clear: this is not a game defect. I repeat, not a bug. This is the beginning of the real Sword Art Online.
You cannot log out on your own. And if anyone tries to do so from outside, removing the NerveGear… they will only achieve death. The helmet will detect forced disconnection and send powerful microwaves directly to your brain. You will die in seconds… both in the virtual world and the real world.
Silence was absolute. Both inside and outside the game, thousands of people froze, unable to process what they had just heard.
In Aincrad, murmurs turned into cries of disbelief. Outside, chaos spread. Call centers, hospitals, and IT security departments received desperate calls from parents, siblings, partners, crying and demanding help.
Some still clung to the idea that it was just a publicity stunt. A cruel joke, but nothing more. That illusion shattered with the next words.
#Broadcast: Sword Art Online#
—Unfortunately, those who did not understand my warning are already dead. At this precise moment, several players have died because their relatives, ignoring my message, attempted to remove their NerveGear.
A heart-wrenching scream erupted in the crowd. One trembling player pointed ahead: in his vision floated a text box blinking ERROR. ERROR. Forced disconnection. Have a nice day. Then, he vanished amid agonized screams, erased from the world.
More cases repeated in different points of the square. Players collapsing to the ground, disappearing amid distortion effects and the echo of their own screams.
Terror spread like wildfire.
—As you have just witnessed —continued Kayaba, unperturbed—, combined with those who died before this presentation, 250 players have now died… both in Aincrad and the real world.
The screens in the real world now showed images of chaos in hospitals, ambulances, frantic reporters. Authorities pleaded that no one disconnect the players. But hysteria had already begun.
—News spreads fast… —added Kayaba, with barely hidden mockery—. I hope it spreads just as fast to save them from a total disconnection.
The plaza fell into a grave silence. No one breathed heavily, no one moved. The air felt heavy. Then, from the crowd, a male voice broke the fear.
Trembling, but filled with rage and courage.
—That… that's insane! You can't be serious! We never agreed to any of this! How the hell do you expect to trap us against our will for the whim of a sick man called a genius? It's disgusting, it's insane!
Everyone turned. And saw Aomine. He was pale, trembling, but his eyes burned with fury. His screaming voice sparked an eruption: soon, a wave of complaints, insults, and desperate cries exploded across the entire plaza against Akihiko Kayaba.
Inside and outside the game, thousands protested, cursed, cried. But the creator of the virtual world… simply listened. In silence.
An immutable god in front of a sea of despair.
—Uhmm… "we don't accept this"… —Kayaba repeated calmly.
The crowd stared in silence. His words, said in that ambiguous tone, sounded strange. Almost ironic.
—Are you sure? —he added—. Because that's not what your avatars say.
Suddenly, where before there was no face, a huge, white, perfect set of teeth opened, forming an unnatural smile in the void. The gesture alone froze players' blood.
—I think many of you forgot this… —he continued.
With a motion of his hand, a floating window appeared before everyone. Murmurs grew. Some stepped back, others stared in disbelief.
Kayaba enlarged the window, and horror took hold: it was a recording, a video showing, one by one, players accepting the terms and conditions at the start of the game. With each confirmation appeared the virtual documents, with each rule clearly displayed.
Among them, one line stood out like a dagger in everyone's eyes:
"I accept the terms and conditions, clause 601: I, as a player, am obliged to play Sword Art Online until reaching floor 100 of the Aincrad tower. I accept to continue even if trapped in the game, as established by the rule."
The faces of those present turned pale. Some began to tremble, others laughed nervously with tears in their eyes, as if their minds were breaking facing the trap they themselves had signed.
Kayaba let silence and terror sink in before speaking again.
—There were two ways not to accept this rule from the beginning: read carefully and reject it… or simply not rush to press "accept." If you had done so, when the bell rang, you would have been expelled from the game, freeing space for other players who wished to accept the rule. But no… you were fast, too eager, incapable of stopping to read.
The faceless smile vanished… but a hollow laugh echoed across the sky.
—They always say reading doesn't hurt. Maybe you haven't matured enough. And that makes me happy… If you had the boring, rigid mindset of adults from the real world, lifeless robots… then you wouldn't be here, playing this game. Don't you think? —his voice faded, but the final laugh lingered like an echo freezing to the bone.
Adults watching from the real world reacted quickly. Many were outraged.
—Even if the kids accepted, this doesn't make it right!—And the authorities? How did they allow a game like this to be released?—This is mafia, corruption! They always said video games killed young people… and now it became reality.
Complaints echoed through streets, bars, and homes. Some adults couldn't believe it; others simply confirmed their deepest fears.However, beyond their anger, they couldn't deny one thing: Kayaba was right about something. Young people don't stop to think about their actions.
Suddenly, the screens went black. The broadcast cut off with a strange, almost ridiculous message: a cartoonish character waving and saying:"Thanks for watching. See you later."
#Inside Sword Art Online#
—Looks like quite a few people were watching live… but everything must come to an end —Kayaba said calmly.
The recording spheres began to rise, disappearing as they collided with the red dome.
—This… this is a joke, right? —Aomine asked, his voice trembling.
No one responded. Michael, who usually wore a smile, now had a cold, serious expression, staring straight at Kayaba. The others showed disgust, fear, or disbelief.
Yuna, however, remained apathetic, her face hidden beneath her hood. Only her lips moved in a whisper:
—I wanted to have more fun with my new friends… How cruel you are.
Michael heard her but said nothing. His gaze hardened, though he preferred to remain silent.
As the atmosphere grew heavier, Aomine felt his mind betraying him: memories of the beta, of his defeats, of the times his health bar had hit red.(If I fight… if I end up like that again… this time I could really die…)Nausea rose in his chest.
Kayaba spoke again:
—It's not that there's no way out… there's only one: complete the game.
A hologram appeared above the square, showing a detailed map of Floor 1.
—If you make your way through the dungeons, defeat the mini-bosses, and finally the boss of each level… you can ascend to the next floor. Repeat this until you reach floor 100. There, you must defeat the final boss. Only then will you gain your freedom.
Silence fell instantly. The disbelief was so strong that someone shouted:
—N-no way!—One hundred floors?! That's impossible!—Not even the beta testers got that far! How do they expect us newbies to do it?
But Kayaba ignored the complaints.
—To conclude this presentation, I've left a gift in your inventories. Especially designed for those who didn't participate in the beta. Check it yourselves.
The players opened their menus and found a new item.
—A mirror… —muttered Aomine as he read the description: "Mirror of Truth. Congratulations."
Before he could ask anything, a blue glow enveloped them all. Ethereal flames covered the entire square. Aomine closed his eyes, blinded by the flash. When he finally opened them, his breath caught.
Everyone had changed. Their customized appearances had vanished. What now stood before them were their real bodies, transferred into the game with terrifying realism.
—Aomine? —asked a nearby voice.
—Eh, Michael… —he replied, turning to look at him.
The shock was mutual. Michael looked different, thinner, with a realistic haircut. But what surprised him most was Aomine's height.
—You're short —Michael said, incredulous.
—Who are you calling short! —Aomine protested.
A deep voice interrupted them.
—Are you two?
A tall, muscular man with a smile greeted them.
—Who are you? —they asked in unison.
—I'm Gundou.
They looked at each other and shouted together:
—We're dwarves!
Beside them, other figures were revealed. A blonde with blue eyes and a defiant demeanor; next to her, a purple-haired girl with bluish highlights, her hair swaying in the wind.
—Historia and Elsa? —Michael asked.
—Exactly —they replied.
Michael smiled mischievously.
—Wow, they really do look like their pictures.
At that moment, Aomine and Gundou caught him in a hold.
—Why didn't you say they were real girls?! —they demanded.
—It was obvious from their profile pics! —Michael whimpered.
—No! —growled Aomine—. We thought it was another trap, like those who post fake pictures.
—Exactly —added Gundou—. I wouldn't have made such sexist jokes if I had known.
Historia snorted.
—Idiots…
Elsa, however, smiled softly.
—I liked how you treated us before. Don't change your attitude now that you know we're girls.
Then someone asked:
—What about Keiky? And Yuna?
Everyone's gaze searched until they found them. Yuna had hardly changed: her avatar was identical to her real self. Keiky, meanwhile, was a shy boy with ashy hair, hiding behind her.
—You didn't change anything, right? —Elsa asked.
—I've used my real appearance from the start —Yuna replied, smiling.
Michael snapped his fingers.
—That explains a lot.
But Gundou frowned.
—So this change was due to facial scanning?
—Yes… —Aomine nodded—. At first, we had to spend ten minutes in front of the face scanner and thirty on the body scanner. I'd forgotten.
Michael looked at him and smiled, patting him on the back.
—Good thing we have our strategist. Always attentive to these details.
Gundou, Yuna, and even Elsa praised him, making Aomine blush.
Still, doubt remained.
—But… why do all this? —Aomine asked, frustrated.
Yuna raised her gaze to Kayaba.
—He will tell us himself. After all… he's always revealed all information from the start.
Keiky nodded nervously.
—Yes… you're right, Yuna-tan.
Everyone focused on the man holding them in this virtual world. He had remained silent until now, but finally decided to speak.
—Those murmurs… are cute, really. You're analyzing everything and accepting some things —he said calmly, letting the echo of his words weigh on everyone—. As a final act, I will ask two questions. You can answer briefly or at length…
He paused just a second, then asked the first question himself:
—Why? Why would Akihiko Kayaba, creator of full-immersion virtual worlds, someone recognized as a pioneer for achieving the impossible in just a few years… the creator of this game and its device… do this?
The air froze. Kayaba barely smiled, enjoying every terrified glance.
—The first step succeeded: creating Sword Art Online. And now, to analyze it… to experiment with the endpoint of my entire existence. That is my curiosity. Thank you for being the perfect guinea pigs.
His tone, lively yet cruel, gave no one a chance to respond.
—The other question… what is the item you received in your inventory for? —he continued—. As you know, only a few played the Beta. That would create a disadvantage for new players. This item will allow you to experience human-style evolution. Your effort will be rewarded: your strength and talents—even those you possess in the real world—will be enhanced. Thus, there will be no inequality when fighting.
Kayaba raised his voice, his shadow covering everyone:
—It will be a battle between geniuses and prodigies… ordinary people against those with extraordinary qualities. That is the real world, and it will be here. These two classes must coexist, pushing each other to evolve.
His tone became colder:
—Remember what I said at the official launch: the game would be realistic. Realistic enough to feel everything… The pleasure of having a woman, the pain of being cut, the crunch of your bones breaking. Healing items will be your only salvation, though you will have scars. Items of normal, rare, and legendary quality will be scattered across the floors, each showing its effectiveness in severe and minor injuries, but their healing time will vary, just like the real world when taken to a hospital.
He paused briefly, as if savoring everyone's fear.
—I want to see how far the human mind can endure. How calm and serene minds can break and turn 360° just to survive. And when you reach floor 100… I want you to ask me one question: "What happens now?" —his voice became a resounding echo—. After living, suffering, and crawling there… I will give the answer. It may offend you. It may make you laugh. Or it may astonish you. It will depend on what kind of human being you have become.
He straightened, as if finishing his role.
—This concludes the official Sword Art Online launch tutorial. With my sincerest good vibes to each of you… And one final warning: don't sink into fantasy. Because when you do… it will be very hard to feel reality again.
With these words, Kayaba began to dissolve amid glitches. His body became liquid and was absorbed by the error blocks forming the dome in the sky. When everything disappeared, the dome disintegrated as well. Normality returned instantly.
The silence was sepulchral. No one dared speak. Fear had frozen them.
Then a sound broke the calm: something fell to the ground and shattered into rainbow particles. That echo awakened someone. A female voice, broken by desperation, rose among the crowd:
—No! N-NO!
That scream broke the players' trance. Chaos erupted immediately.
—Y-you bastard!—Let me out!—Get us out of here! You said it was just a weird game, not this shit!—And what do you want me to do, idiot! I'm trapped here with you too!
Cries, insults, pleas. The square filled with chaotic disorder. What was once a place of new friendships and excitement had become a hell.
—I can't stay here! I have an appointment later!
Amid the commotion, two people—a man and a woman—looked at each other as if separated by an invisible screen. They thought the same thing silently:
(Is this… real?)
Confusion grew. Some blamed others, voices rose, hands trembled. Then one of them was snapped out of his trance: someone grabbed him by the clothes from behind. Turning, he saw a person with tear-filled eyes, clearly on the verge of collapse.
—Aomine, we have to go —they said urgently.
—Michael…? —Aomine whispered, dazed.
—Tch, this is crap —Historia spat.—Don't even get me started, it's the worst game launch I've ever seen —Gundou complained.
Elsa, meanwhile, tried to get Keiky to react, who had lost consciousness. Failing that, she carried him on her back. Yuna, showing no happiness, only seriousness and apathy, was pulled along by Historia to follow the group.
They all began running out of the square. Aomine was dragged until he could stand, though Michael pulled him by the arm to go faster. Seeing them, other players understood and also began to run.
—Where are we going? —Aomine asked, struggling to keep up.
—Isn't it obvious, idiot? We have to farm. If this world is going to be our home for a while, we need an advantage. Let's head to the next town —Historia replied irritably.
—W-what…? —Aomine muttered dryly.
They were about to cross the large gate leading out of the City of Beginnings. But at the threshold, Aomine stopped abruptly. The group halted behind him, confused. Historia frowned.
—What's wrong, Aomine? We need to go —Michael said.
—…I don't want to die —Aomine whispered.
—W-what did you say?! —Historia shouted, not understanding.
Gundou tried to encourage him:—Come on, man, we have to follo—
But his words were cut short by a heart-wrenching scream:
—I DON'T WANT TO DIE!
The echo spread like a human roar. Everyone stared, shocked.
—You… you don't understand! —Aomine raised his voice, broken—. If our health bar hits zero… we die! It always happened to me in the Beta! I died and tried again! Do you know what that means now?
—Aomine… —Elsa murmured, in a sympathetic tone.
—You don't get it! I'll only be a burden to you! You're strong… you should leave me here with Yuna-chan and Keiky; at least we'd be safe in the city. You can do it: Michael completed the Beta before anyone else. Elsa is incredible at hiding and defending. Gundou is an impenetrable shield. Historia is a first-rate archer. You're a perfect quartet… I'm not strong enough. I only have… my mind. That's all!
Silence fell. Aomine closed his eyes, thinking desperately:
(It's for the best. Otherwise, I'd just be a liability. With my wit, I can at least survive as a merchant in the city. And when the others advance through the floors… I can teleport up with them…)
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a fist aimed directly at his face. The punch sent him to the ground. His cheek burned with pain, and on his screen, his health bar dropped slightly before recovering on its own.
In front of him stood Michael, his fist still clenched, trembling with rage.
—Who…! Who the hell are you?! —he roared.
The group was speechless, stunned.
Michael gritted his teeth and unleashed his fury:
—Do you think you're the only one who's scared? We all are! I'm scared too. I don't want to die! Who would? But with that same will to live… I'll fight. And I'll keep going, floor by floor, until I reach 100 and punch Kayaba in the face.
Michael lowered his fist, but his voice remained strong:
—So don't act like you're the only one. Fear shows you're alive… that you want to live. Remember? We promised to stay together until the end. To complete this game together. Gundou is our shield. Elsa, our eyes in blind spots. Historia, our long-range support. I'm the front line. And you… you are the mind of our formation. The one who will guide us to the top with his wit. That's your strength, the one that will grow with every floor. You will be the best of us. I promise.
He stepped forward, lowering his head. He extended his hand.
—So please… don't abandon us. We're a team.
Gundou joined the gesture:—Please, Aomine.
Elsa also raised her hand, serious:—We need you on this adventure.
Historia clicked her tongue but bowed with a hint of plea:—Damn it… be the brain of our group, as always, you fool.
Yuna also stepped closer, placing her hand with the others.
—Even though I barely know you, I see how hard you try and what you can achieve here. Become a new human again, and save everyone with your wit.
Aomine looked at them, still trembling.
—…You know I'll hold you back.
—Then we'll wait for you and help you —Michael said.
—Sometimes I'm clumsy when it comes to support…
—Don't worry, I've got you —Gundou and Elsa said in unison.
—I'm terrible with a sword…
Historia smirked sarcastically.—That's normal for you, idiot. That's why I'll support you from afar with my bow.
—And if I mess up…
—We'll mess up together. That's why we're friends —Yuna concluded.
Aomine clenched his hands, trembling. He smacked both cheeks hard, reddening them. The others stared in surprise. Finally, he smiled.
—I'm sorry… I wasn't myself. Thank you for your help, friends.
—Finally, you're back, Aomine —Michael laughed.
—Stop saying my name all the time… you know I have another one.
—Sorry, that was too much private information, right? —Michael put his hands together apologetically.
Everyone laughed. The tension eased, if only a little.
Before anyone could speak again, Aomine stepped forward and sprinted into the forest. The others looked surprised until he turned his head slightly and smiled.
Without hesitation, they all ran after him, shouting for him to wait. They smiled.
Yuna ran too, but there was something different on her face: hope.
(Could this… be the opportunity you were looking for?) she thought, her eyes shining like stars.
In a room lit only by the glow of a computer, screens displayed various points of Floor 1. Among all the projections, one stood out: the image of Aomine and his companions.But it wasn't a normal view; it looked like a living X-ray, where Aomine's body glowed faintly, revealing something hidden within, as if his code itself wanted to manifest.
In front of that screen, a man stood motionless, eyes fixed and analytical. His tired eyes, framed by deep dark circles, couldn't hide the intellectual allure he exuded. The glasses he wore reflected the monitor's glow, while his white lab coat, wrinkled from use, hung heavily on his shoulders.
With a calculated gesture, he intertwined his fingers and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. The tension in his posture revealed he was processing every tiny detail, as if this moment were crucial.The entire room seemed to breathe with him, waiting for his next move.
Suddenly, a female voice broke the silence.
—My little sister went to play alone… —said the soft, ethereal voice of a girl, almost innocent.
Kayaba didn't turn his head, but his lips moved, responding as if he had been expecting those words.
—Uhmm… it's not like I have her under arrest. She can do what she wants, as long as she doesn't reveal anything. —His voice was cold, controlled—. If she ever does, I'll bring her back… even if it hurts in the process.
There was a brief silence, as if the girl hesitated before speaking again.
—I know… but I also…
Kayaba interrupted her with a harsher voice, laced with annoyance:
—No. You are a defective product. You could cause glitches if you go out.
His gaze hardened further toward the screen, as if Aomine's image reminded him of something buried.
—Unless… you accept the program. Or join with a player's code to replace them.
The girl fell silent, and in that pause, the tension became unbearable. Kayaba narrowed his eyes, letting out a bitter smirk.
—But of course… that would mean taking someone's life. And even if you are an AI… you're afraid to kill.
His words became a rough whisper, almost a reproach laced with venom.
—That fear comes from what little of your humanity remains… from a past you shouldn't remember.
Silence filled the room again, heavy and suffocating.
(I hope I find it… the true purpose of the birth of a soul.If I can understand it, perhaps mine can live too…Not as a mere man, but as that perfect soul I wish to create) —Kayaba thought, his calm masking unyielding fervor.
His lips curved slightly, as if all of this were a secret between him and the world unfolding before his eyes.
"It's show time."