No one's POV

Vassago Casals was born to a Hispanic mother and a Japanese American father in the Tenderloin, a lower-class neighborhood in San Francisco.

In America, baby names that seemed likely to limit the opportunities of the child, who didn't have a choice in the matter, were often rejected at the stage of the birth certificate. That was the only reason his mother had named him Vassago instead of Devil or Satan. Vassago, the prince of hell, was a name with only minor recognition, so the city clerk accepted the name, none the wiser.

There was only one reason a mother would give her child the name of a demon, and that was because she never wanted him—because she hated him.

He didn't know how his parents had met, nor did he want to, but as far as he understood, it was a monetary relationship. The pregnancy wasn't planned, and his mother wanted to abort him, but his father forced her to go through with it. That didn't mean that he loved the son who was born; he checked in every now and then on the child's health but never even brought so much as a gift. About the only thing he ever gave Vassago was the ability to speak Japanese.

It was only when Vassago was around fifteen years old that he finally understood why his father had forced his mother to give birth and then had made only the bare minimum of child support payments.

That was when he was told that there was a child with congenital kidney failure on his father's side of the family—and they wanted him to be a donor. He had no choice in the matter. But Vassago gave his own condition: He wanted to live in his father's country, Japan. Once he had donated a kidney, his father would have no use for him, so the status of his financial support would be in limbo. If he had to stay in the slums and deal drugs to survive, he knew where that story would end—so he preferred to start over in a new country entirely.

His father accepted, and in exchange for his left kidney, Vassago received a passport and airfare. He left for Japan without saying good-bye to his mother. When he arrived, fate was even crueler than he could have realized.

By Japanese law, international adoption involved complicated paperwork and stringent requirements, and even if the adoption process was successful, children above the age of six were not automatically given the right to stay in the country. Vassago had no choice but to live outside of the law from the moment he arrived.

So he wound up in the care of a Korean crime syndicate. Because he could speak English, Spanish, and Japanese, they provided Vassago with a fake ID and trained him to be a hit man.

Vassago completed nine successful jobs in the five years before he turned twenty. The tenth job was something he could never have imagined.

His job was to reach and kill a target that could never be found in the real world—the target was in a virtual world instead.

When it was first described to him, he didn't know what it meant. Only when he was given an explanation of the SAO Incident, which had arisen just a few days earlier, did it make sense to him. The target was a victim of the Incident, stuck at home under strict security, never to emerge. If they waited for the deadly game to kill him, there was no telling when that would happen or if he might survive and escape eventually. But if they could get into the same game and kill his character, the NerveGear would kill him in real life.

That still left three major problems to solve.

For one, Vassago the hit man would not be able to leave the game until it was beaten. If he died in the game, he was dead for real. And Vassago himself could not attack the target. If anyone got their hands on a game log of who attacked whom, they could potentially trace back the assassination attempt.

The price the syndicate offered to complete this near-impossible mission was astonishing. Vassago thought it unlikely that he would actually get it, even if he succeeded, but he didn't have the right to refuse either way.

Nearly all the unused NerveGears had been confiscated by police, but somehow, the syndicate acquired one. As long as he had the SAO software and the will to go in there, neither the police nor the software company could prevent him from logging in. The only real question after that was his character name. Vassago had never played a video game, and he wasn't sure what to go with at first. Deciding to keep it in-line with the name of the prince of hell his mother had given him, Vassago chose the handle PoH.

Vassago's first experience with virtual reality altered his personality—it set him free. He saw his long-forgotten father and distant relatives in the other Japanese players and was keenly reminded of just how much he loathed all Asian people.

He would kill his target, since that was his job. And along the way, he'd kill as many other people as he could.

It was with this thought in mind that Vassago founded the biggest guild of murderers in SAO, Laughing Coffin, and took many, many lives in total, not just that of his original target. When the guild got too big and he grew tired of running it, he had it clash headlong with the game's elite players to wipe it out so he could engage directly in the job of killing those he'd identified as the greatest targets of all: The Flash, The Treasure Hunter, The Black Swordsman and The Night Sky Swordsman. Not long after that, the game was beaten, releasing them all.

When he returned to the real world from the game of death, Vassago felt not joy but emptiness and disappointment. He knew that he would never again experience the dream come true that was Aincrad, so he chose to return to America in search of a similar experience. He murdered the boss, who was reluctant to pay what he'd promised, made off with the money, and crossed the Pacific. Over in San Diego, he found a place in the cyber-operations wing of a private military contractor.

In VR combat training against the National Guard and the Marine Corps, Vassago's SAO-honed skills shone brilliantly. He was promptly chosen to be an instructor, but the stable life and income that came along with it did not satisfy him.

PoH(mind): One more time. I want to go back there, just one more time. Back to that false world of truth, where everything is digital, bringing true human nature to the surface.

For all his wishing, Vassago finally found himself in the Underworld, a terrifyingly real virtual world, where he came across The Flash, The Treasure Hunter and the Night Sky Swordsman again. It wasn't a miracle; it had to be considered fate at this point.

For some reason, the Night Sky Swordsman had undergone some kind of change in mental state, but Vassago knew that if he killed enough people around him, he'd wake up again. It was exactly because the Night Sky Swordsman was that kind of man that Vassago was drawn to him in the first place. It was such a singular desire that Vassago would be happy to kill himself once he'd killed the swordsman.

First, he'd lure the Chinese and Koreans in with false information, then have them slaughter one another en masse. He'd never expected that impromptu story to hold up under scrutiny for very long anyway. More than a few of them were skeptical of the situation already and were arguing with the more fervently patriotic members of the crowd. Once that tension reached its peak, all he needed to provide was a little spark.

Not far away, the Korean he'd given a good punishing was still stubbornly trying to argue with his compatriots. If he shouted to them to cut that man's head off and slaughter all the cowards, the patriots would surely be driven into a bloodlust and draw their swords.

PoH: Just you wait, man...I'll get you up and on your feet in no time.

Zora:...

Vassago whispered to the empty-eyed swordsman in black and white on the ground nearby. Belatedly, he realized that something in the young man's profile reminded him of the glimpse he'd gotten of his half brother just before the kidney-transplant surgery. Something sharp surged in his chest.

First, he'd kill the Night Sky Swordsman and the Treasure Hunter to log them out, then disengage himself. The next step would be to find wherever the two of them were on the Ocean Turtle and kill them again with the utmost relish.

Only imagining that moment could temporarily ease the dull ache in his left side that had been with him since having his kidney stolen when he was fifteen. Beneath the hood, he grinned and muttered to the young man.

PoH: If you keep spacing out, everyone's gonna die. C'mon—you gotta wake up soon.

He took slow, deliberate steps, twirling the Mate-Chopper around in his fingers. Scritch.

Philia heard the dry sound of boot soles scraping on parched ground, even as her soul threatened to leave her ears. Scritch, scritch. It was mechanical, artificial, and yet rhythmic, almost dancing. That was something she'd heard several times before in the old floating castle: the footsteps of Death.

She moved her head to the side and saw, twenty yards away near where Zora lay, the silhouette of the man in the black poncho stalking toward her. But it wasn't actually Philia he was walking toward—it was Asuna, two swords stuck through her back. The swordswoman in white seemed to be staving off death through willpower alone, and now the man was going to finish the job himself. Or so she thought at first, but soon she sensed this wasn't correct, either.

Near Asuna, two knights in red armor were squabbling in Korean. In fact, all around the army of thousands surrounding the surviving Japanese players and Underworld warriors, violent arguments were breaking out.

It was probably the players who still believed PoH laying into those who had figured out it was all a lie. At this rate, it was going to take only a minor trigger for the former to draw their swords on the latter. Once that happened, the built-up hatred between the Chinese and Korean players would probably be the next thing to explode. PoH was heading over to stop them from...

Philia(mind): No... No. Oh no.

He was heading over to start the fire himself. Just the same way he had when he leaked the location of his own murdering guild's hideout to the frontier group so they could launch a bloody battle to wipe the guild out.

It wasn't clear what he stood to gain by halving the power of the force at his command. The only thing she knew for sure was that something terrible would happen.

As he strode forward, PoH gave instructions in Korean. The two knights holding Asuna down turned on the one who'd failed to execute her, sweeping aside their momentary hesitation and grabbing her arms.

The Grim Reaper in black flipped his knife and snatched it out of the air again with a loud smack. He was going to execute the "traitor" and display his head to the crowd, driving those Chinese and Korean players who believed him to betray their skeptical companions.

She couldn't allow him to do that. In terms of the ultimate goal of protecting the Underworlders, preventing the red knights from killing one another probably wasn't what she should worry about. But even half of them was still at least ten thousand—and when they were done, they would be even more furious and hateful and would be seeking to channel those feelings toward the Japanese and the Underworlders.

More importantly, the Chinese and Korean players who were in danger of being killed were the ones who were beginning to see the truth...the ones who believed what the Japanese players told them. She couldn't give up and allow them to suffer this painful fate.

She had to move. Had to stand, draw her sword, and stop the execution ordered by PoH. But her hands and feet wouldn't obey. With each breath she took, the plethora of wounds all over her body ached and sapped her willpower.

Philia:......It's no use.........I can't get up.

Philia could only exhale weakly, her knees stuck to the dusty ground. Her back arched slowly. Dirty, bedraggled hair slid down over her shoulders, blocking her vision. Tears filled her eyes, and she tried to shut them against the approach of Death's footsteps. And then...

Rumia: It's all right. You can make it, Philia.

A warm like heat envelop her left arms. There she saw the locket belong to the person she love. Someone's voice was in her ear, soft but clear. Someone's hands squeezed her shoulders, gentle but strong. Warm light flooded into her body—into her heart. A fresh gust of air blew all her pain away.

Rumia: Stand up now, Philia. Stand to protect what you truly care about.

Her right hand twitched, slid across the surface of the earth, and grabbed what lay there: the handle of Kanshou Light, the dagger belonging to the Goddess of Moon.

When she raised her head, the Grim Reaper in black had a blade that gleamed bloody crimson held high above him. The pinned-down red knight tensed with terror. The furor around them seemed to vanish momentarily, all eyes trained upon that merciless edge. Philia held her breath, gritted her teeth, and put all the strength she still had left into her legs. She pushed off the ground.

Philia: Raaaaaaaaah!!

With a bloodcurdling scream, she drew back the dagger. Brilliant-white light shone from its tip. The basic upward thrust sword skill Canine was one she'd performed thousands of times, if not hundreds of thousands. PoH's reflexes were sharp enough that he noticed the surprise attack.

PoH: Oh—

He grunted, leaning backward. She thrust her hand straight for the darkness of the hood, which was now moving away from her. There was a small bit of feedback in her arm. One lock of curly black hair flew into the air, and a few droplets of fresh blood sprayed from dark skin.

Philia(mind): He dodged it!

The Underworld was no different from Aincrad in that there was an unavoidable pause after a sword skill. Philia was frozen for a brief, fatal instant—and PoH's knife came rushing straight for her torso. But at the same time, she focused her mind towards PoH's own mind.

A faint rainbow of light glowed there and vanished. She used the power of Lunaria to generate an afterimage in front of PoH. Despite being the smallest possible manipulation of the illusion, it felt like lightning struck her brain. And for that heavy price, the dark reaper lost his sense, and his knife did nothing but destroy the afterimage instead.

Philia: Rrgh...!

Free from her paralysis, Philia pulled back the dagger again.

PoH: Whoa!

PoH's poncho swung up into the air as he raised his knife to block it. The divinely quick thrust and the powerful slice met in midair, creating a mixture of white and crimson sparks. Philia put all her strength behind her weapon, trying to push through PoH's blade.

Philia: What...do you want?

She demanded, her voice hoarse. With a smirk and a snarl, PoH said from beneath his hood.

PoH: Isn't it obvious? The one in black and white... The one I tried to kill on the 30th floor of Aincrad along with his sister and never could. He's the only one I really want.

Philia:...Why do you hate Zora so much? What did he ever do to you?

PoH: Hate?

PoH repeated, affronted. He leaned in closer and whispered.

PoH: I thought you, of all people, would understand how much I truly love him. In this world full of assholes, he's the only person you can unconditionally believe in. He never broke down, no matter how much I tormented him. Never gave in to temptation, no matter how much I invited him. He always brought me hope and joy. That's why I can't stand that he ended up like that...while I wasn't around. I'm gonna be the one to wake him up. And I'll kill anyone I need to in order to make that happen. Thousands...Millions.

As the personification of death exhaled these words, they became a black miasma that clung to Philia, sapping her will to fight.

Philia: Hope...? Joy...? As if you had any idea...of how much he had to endure because of you! How much he had suffer because of you!

She snapped back, but the point where their weapons met and scraped sparks into being was slowly, slowly tilting back toward her. In fact, it wasn't just that Philia's willpower was weakening. PoH's wicked Mate-Chopper was trembling like a living creature in his hand, growing slightly thicker and larger with every passing second. PoH noticed her shock. A smile emerged from the darkness beneath his hood.

PoH: I finally figured out how this world works, too. In here, spilled blood and spent life converts straight into energy. Just like how the Priestess of Light burned up the Dark Army with that huge-ass laser beam.

Philia had been given an explanation of the core system of the Underworld, too, before she dived in. These "spatial resources," as they were called, couldn't be used without complex commands or weapons that absorbed them from the air. But even if the Mate-Chopper's enlargement was an effect of spatial resources, PoH hadn't spoken any commands, and the knife itself had to be a converted item from his SAO character data. It couldn't be equipped with the Underworld's resource-absorption function. PoH continued, reading Philia's thoughts.

PoH: This dagger, the Mate-Chopper, was designed so that every time it kills monsters in Aincrad, its stats go down, and the more you slice up players—other people—the higher its stats get. But if you kill an obnoxious number of mobs, eventually the curse is supposed to wear off, and the weapon transforms into some special katana with a similar name. Obviously, I wasn't interested in that. The point here is that the way its strength grows as it slashes human beings still works in the Underworld. The lives of the Americans you people killed, and the Japanese the allied Chinese and Koreans killed, swirl around this battlefield. If the Chinese and Koreans kill one another after this, there will be even more life in the air.

As the Grim Reaper whispered, his Mate-Chopper creaked and groaned, growing larger. Philia's Kanshou Light, top-level GM equipment, seemed unable to withstand its pressure. All the sound in the background faded away, leaving Philia with only her breath and her pulse in her ears. PoH's very presence seemed to weigh on Philia, as though the evil weapon's effect also applied to his height.

PoH: Once I suck up every last one of those lives, I'm going to kill all the artificial fluctlights in this entire world, from end to end. I'm not just talking about those pathetic people trembling behind you—I mean all of them: the monsters in the dark lands and the humans from the dark empire. However many thousands of people that is, I'm sure he'll wake up in response to it. If he is the Night Sky Swordsman I believe in.

A cold gust of wind rustled his leather hood, revealing the eyes underneath for a brief moment. They were red and dimly glowing.

Philia(mind): A devil. He was not human, but a true devil.

That was the true nature of PoH. The mask of the cheerful agitator he wore in Aincrad and the mask of the harsh commander he wore here were both just that: lies. In truth, he was a cold, cruel agent of vengeance who sought only to inflict pain, to torment, and wipe out all traces of humanity... The strength went out of Philia's knees. Her dagger creaked in its struggle, and the knife's blade edged closer to her throat.

PoH: Don't worry. I won't kill you yet. I'm just going to make sure you can't interfere anymore. You need to be around to watch...when he wakes up and dies in my arms.

The Mate-Chopper was close to twice its original size now. Kanshou Light issued a high-pitched scream, and a fine crack ran through its length. With her right knee having fallen to the ground, Philia watched a black mist spilling from the hood covering her eyes. Through the darkness shone only the thick steel blade and her crimson eyes. Just before Philia completely lost all strength, someone's small hand touched her left hand, providing support. She looked down once again only to saw Zora's locket glowing dimly.

Rumia: It's all right. I know you can stand up again and again and again. In order to save the person we love.

A pure-blue light shot from the center of Philia's chest, piercing the darkness. In the reflection of the flat surface of the Mate-Chopper, Philia could see pitch black bat-like wings extending from her own back.

A/N: The same wing in Chapter 81.

Then in her left arms where she hold the locket. It form started to change. No longer a beautiful locket but she was now holding another dagger in her left hand. It was the other GM equipment and the counterpart of Philia's Kanshou Light. This one is called, Bakuya Darkness.

PoH: !

PoH was surprised by this revelation and he felt a huge sense of memories overflowing him. Dual Dagger. In SAO, the skill is unique. A skill given to those who set the prerequisites of obtaining this unique skill to 950+ one-handed dagger skill, 900+ Hiding skill and 900+ Sprint skill along with a high AGI stat. One person owns it in SAO and that is Rumia, the Youthful Princess of the Short Sword. And Zora's Big Sister. The last remaining family he had that PoH had taken from him.

All the sound came back—the clamor and chaos of the battlefield mixing in again, along with the voices of her friends.

Philia: ?

Asuna: Stand up, Philiaaaaaaaa!!

Lisbeth: You can do it, Philia!!

Silica: Philia!! Philiaaaaaaa!!

Agil: Get up, Philia!!

Klien: Philiaaaaaaa!!

Yuuki: Win this, Philiaaaaaaaaa!!

Asuna. Lisbeth. Silica. Agil. Klein. Yuuki.

And not just her closest companions. She could also hear the surviving ALO players, like Sakuya, Alicia, and Siune and the other Sleeping Knights, the surviving GGO players, like, Kureha, Zeliska, Arfasys, and team LLENN as well as the soldiers from the Human Guardian Army, like Renly, Tiese, Ronie, Sortiliena, and the many other guards and friars, all chanting her name.

Philia(mind): Thank you, everyone. Thank you, Big Sister, Rumia. I can still fight. Your hearts united give me strength.

Philia: I won't give in...I will never allow myself to succumb...to someone like you...who is only capable of hatred!! I WILL NEVER LOSE.....!!!!!

She screamed. A surge of blue light issued from her being, jolting PoH backward. Philia returned to her feet and drew back her dual dagger hand. Waves of pale-blue light reminiscent of the color of azure sky emerged from the weapon, coloring the entire world.

PoH: Hrrrng...!!

The reaper attempted to stand his ground, but that just left him wide open to attack. Philia activated the Original Sword Skill she'd received from Rumia, the Youthful Princess of the Short Sword.

Using Kanshou Light. Five attacks from the upper right, lightning-fast thrusts in a diagonal line. Using Bakuya Darkness. Five attacks from the upper left, another line of glowing points intersecting with the first.

PoH: Gaaah...

PoH gasps were flecked with bright blood, but his giant knife still glowed red. If he caught her flush with a direct counterattack, it would easily wipe out what health she had remaining. But Philia's onslaught wasn't over. 8-hit thrusting attack with Kanshou Light, and AOE 8-hit sliced from Bakuya darkness.

Philia: Raaaaaaah!!

She focused all her remaining energy into the tip of the dagger for the last—and biggest—attack, right at the intersecting point of the two lines. It was the end of the twenty seven-part OSS, Heavenly Road.

A blue flash like a shooting star penetrated PoH's chest. The black-clad personification of death flew high into the air and came crashing down heavily a good distance away. Philia fell to a knee again, having spent all her mental strength.

Philia: Thank you, Big Sister, Rumia.

She did not hear a response this time. Perhaps it was only ever a phantom hand and phantom voice created from Philia's memories. But given that this was a world built out of memories, that meant it was no illusion. Normally, the OSS Heavenly Road shouldn't be usable. Even if Higa and Kikuoka implemented the sword-skill system from the original SAO, Philia had never even used a Dual Dagger skills during her time at SAO.

Yet, the OSS executed properly, visual effects and all. If that was the power of Philia's imagination bringing it to life, then the encouragement from Rumia coming back from her memory was real, too. Memories never vanished.

PoH's avatar was still lying prone on the ground. But it was impossible to imagine that he had taken an twenty seven-hit combo skill with 2 GM equipment and survived. Unlike the other players, he was connecting with the STL, so even if he died, his body wouldn't disintegrate. It would remain here for a time, like those of the humans and the darklanders from the Underworld.

She got to her feet, using her daggers for support, then turned to check on Asuna. She still had the swords in her stomach, but the three players keeping her captured had taken their distance, and like the fourth knight who'd rushed to intervene, they watched her in disbelief.

Philia wanted to go to Zora as soon as possible, but first she headed for Asuna to remove the swords and heal his wounds. But no sooner had she taken a step or two than she sensed a faint rumble through the earth. She held her breath and turned around again.

PoH was on the ground, completely immobile. But the Mate-Chopper, still in his hand, emitted an eerie light with swirls of red and black. In fact, it seemed that the air of the entire battlefield was slowly rotating around the knife.

Liena: Oh no...it's absorbing the sacred power!!

Sortiliena shouted, who stood at the front of the human army. Philia gritted her teeth and started to move toward the malignant blade so she could destroy it once and for all. But before she could get there, the Grim Reaper in black rose to his feet, as though pulled upright by the floating weapon.

The front of the poncho was greatly damaged, exposing his figure and his tight leather suit. There was a huge hole in his chest where the final blow of the OSS had struck, through which the background behind him was visible.

The Underworlders exclaimed in fright when they saw PoH standing despite his entire heart having been blasted out of his chest. Even the Chinese and Koreans were unnerved by it, and they assumed this was just another VRMMO world.

Most likely, the Mate-Chopper was absorbing the tremendous amount of spatial resources in the air and converting them into HP for PoH. But even with that assumption in mind, Philia couldn't stop herself from trembling.

PoH was diving through The Soul Translator. He had to be feeling the exact same level of pain as he would in the real world. Philia felt mind-obliterating pain from being pierced through the side with a spear. She couldn't imagine what it would feel like to have an enormous hole blasted through the middle of her chest.

But the god of death just grinned with blood dripping from his lips—and bellowed in a voice loud enough to shake everything within hearing distance:

PoH: My brethren! This is the true nature of our foe! Kill every last one of your feeble traitors...and every filthy Japanese, too!!

He spoke in Korean, but somehow Philia was able to accurately recognize the meaning of his every word. PoH's Mate-Chopper shot its dark-red aura from its raised position to the ends of the wasteland.

Korean: Ohhhh...Ohhhhhhhhh!!

Half of the combined Chinese and Korean army raised their swords in similar fashion and roared with ferocious gusto. There was nothing Philia could do now to stop them from attacking the more peaceful faction...or from attacking the few Japanese survivors and the remaining Underworld soldiers. Suddenly something pushed her, and she fell to the ground. The damaged daggers came loose from her grip and tumbled onto the dry soil. Far, far ahead, a black-haired young man reached his one arm toward her, struggling with every fiber of his being.

Philia:......Zora.

She whispered. Philia reached out to her beloved in return and awaited the end.

(MindScape)

It was just a brief nap in the middle of the classroom, but when Sora woke up, it felt like the longest dream he's ever had.

A dream that was fun and painful and sad. As Sora walked down the empty hallway, he tried to remember what had happened in it, but nothing was coming to him. Eventually, Sora gave up on it and changed into his regular shoes at the shoe lockers inside the school entrance. Outside of the gate, the dry, chilly autumn breeze rustled his shaggy bangs.

Sora: Guess I'll go home.

Sora shifted his book bag to his left shoulder, stuck my hands into the pockets of my school trousers, and began to walk, head downcast. Up ahead, students from the same school were chatting and laughing. Sora stuck the earbuds from his audio player in to shut out the sound of their hopes, dreams, love, and friendship; hunched his back; and headed home.

At the convenience store on the way home, Sora stopped to check out this week's gaming magazines and bought the one that had the longest special preview of Sword Art Online, the game that was about to launch in a month. He also added some funds to the digital-currency account he used to play online games. That was an intermediate step he could remove by just getting a credit card, but after Sora brought it up with his stepmother, she said that he couldn't have one until he was in college. Sora couldn't complain about that, though; he was fortunate enough just to get an allowance each month. He wasn't even her real son, after all.

Sora:...

Sora walked out the automatic doors of the store, imagining a blissful post-cash world where everything could happen electronically. Sora quickly left the lot and headed down the road, away from the evening sun. He walked and walked, saying nothing, staring at the asphalt below his feet. The sun set behind him with alarming speed, shrouding Sora and the town in purple darkness. The familiar route home began to feel like a totally unfamiliar place. No people or cars came down the road. The only sound was his footsteps.

Step, step, step.........shuk, shuk, shuk.

Sora: Huh...?

Sora came to a halt. Somehow, he had walked off the asphalt and onto short grass. Sora wondered whether there had been any unpaved ground on the way home from school and looked up in confusion.

What he saw was not a residential street of Kawagoe City, Saitama Prefecture, but a small path leading through a deep, unfamiliar grassland.

After looking at his surroundings, Sora examined himself. The black school uniform he'd been wearing was gone, replaced by a navy-blue tunic and leather armor. He was wearing fingerless gloves and short boots with metal rivets. Over his shoulder was no longer the bag Sora took to school, but a short and rather heavy sword.

Zora: Where am I...?

He wondered, but no one was around to answer. He shrugged and began to walk down the grassland path.

In less than a minute, Zora's memory began to prickle. The shape of the ancient trees with the twisted branches. The sensation of the growth underfoot. This was the forest to the northwest of the Town of Wisteria on the 30th floor of Aincrad, the floating castle.

Zora(mind): That meant I would arrive at Wisteria if I followed this path.

Zora needed to get to town so he could rent an inn room. He just wanted to get into bed. He wanted to sleep again and not have to think. The only light on the forest floor as he walked and walked was the hazy moonlight. But suddenly, he heard a faint cry up ahead.

Rumia: Zora...

Zora: ?!

Zora came to a stop. Somehow, the short grass underfoot had changed to bluish stone blocks. Zora looked up and saw that he was no longer in a forest, but in some unfamiliar dim hallway. Probably somewhere in a labyrinth...but from the appearance, Zora couldn't tell what floor. All he could do was keep walking.

Barely even cognizant that his equipment and sword had changed, Zora walked silently down the corridor. And walked and walked, as though chasing his own shadow cast by the lanterns set into the walls. The labyrinths of Aincrad were about a thousand feet across at the largest, so there couldn't have been a hallway this straight and long. But Zora never stopped or turned back. He just kept walking.

Rumia: Zora...

Eventually, Zora heard a faint voice coming from up ahead. It wasn't a scream; it was a shout of happiness. The voices seemed familiar, nostalgic. Zora's pace picked up a little as he rushed for the source of the voice.

In time, Zora reached an opening in the left wall, through which warm-yellow light shone. Zora kept his legs moving all the way to the entrance, though they felt heavy and tired now, for some reason.

Zora peered around the side and saw a surprisingly spacious room. Along the far wall, one players stood with their backs to him. Even without seeing her faces, Zora instantly knew who she was.

She had beautiful golden hair and a bright blue eyes the same as him. She was also holding onto twin daggers on her waist. It was Rumia.

She was Zora's last remaining family member that had cared about him. He remembered how both of them were in a quest of helping a player that got stuck in this very labyrinth.

Zora(mind): Thank goodness... You're all right, Big Sis.

Zora thought for some strange reason. Zora tried to call out to them, but once again, his mouth would not move. His feet were stuck to the ground and couldn't come loose.

As Zora watched, helpless, his big sister strive forward to help. As soon as Zora's mind registered that it was a trap, Zora felt a chill run down his back. Rumia excitedly stepped forward towards the room where the so-called players were trapped.

Zora(mind): No. Stop. It's a Trap. Don't, Big Sis!

Zora screamed, over and over, but the words never left his mind. He couldn't move his legs to rush into the room to stop her. Instantly, she was surrounded by 10 Laughing Coffin players.

Zora: Ah...ah......!

At last, a sound came from his throat: a faint, cracked shriek. That was all Zora could do. Not a finger would move. He could only watch as his Big Sister was surrounded by red players.

She fought bravely with her Unique Skill, Dual Dagger, but it wasn't enough to match the Red Players number. She spun around and looked at Zora. Her lips formed a hint of a sad smile and opened and closed. The next moment, PoH the leader of the Red Guild's weapons rained down on her without mercy, and her fragile body was enveloped in blue light. His body was able to move again and he rushed to grabbed his Big Sister.

Zora:.........!!

Zora screamed in total silence as Rumia, too, was reduced to a plethora of glass shards that soon vanished. Dozens of Laughing Coffin players simply melted into the air, and the room was full of darkness. Zora fell to his knees.

Zora(mind): I'm sick of this. I don't want to keep walking. I don't want to see anything else.

Zora curled up on the cold floor, covered his ears, and squeezed his eyes shut. But the memories just kept flooding back, like frigid water pooling up around him, enveloping Zora.

Two years of battle in a floating castle of iron and stone.

Endless sky in a land of fairies.

Crimson bullets flying left and right in an evening wasteland.

Zora(mind): I don't want to remember. I don't want to know what comes next.

But despite his prayers, the current of memories pushed him onward. Suddenly cut off from the real world. Waking up in an empty space in a deep forest. Guided by the sound of an ax chopping wood, until Zora arrived at the root of a massive tree and met him. A battle with goblins. The giant tree toppling down.

A long, long journey to the center of the world. Two years training at an academy. With every step, he was beside Zora's side, smiling peacefully. With him, Zora knew he could do anything. They raced up a chalk-white tower together and defeated powerful opponents. And then we reached the top and crossed swords with the ruler of the world, and at the end of a long, agonizing battle, he lost his life...

Zora: Aaaaaaaaaaaah!!

Zora screamed, holding his head in his hands.

Zora: It was me. My powerlessness, my foolishness, my weakness: It killed him.

Blood was spilled that did not need to be spilled. Life was lost that was not meant to end.

Zora: I should have been the one to die. Not them. My life was always been meaningless from the beginning. Our roles should have been reversed, and everything would have continued as it was meant to. Aaaah...Aaaaaaaah!!

Zora screamed and writhed and rolled and reached for the sword that should have been on his back. He was going to press it against his heart or slit his own throat. But Zora's fingers found nothing over his shoulder. He groped around, thinking he had dropped it, but the only thing he felt was sticky, clinging black liquid extending forever.

Zora grabbed the collar of his black and white shirt and ripped it with his hands. Curled fingers like claws touched the center of his emaciated chest. The skin split, and his flesh tore apart, but Zora felt no pain. With both hands, Zora ripped into his own chest. So that he could expose his heart, pull it out, and crush it.

Zora(mind): This was all I could do for him... For her... The last act of atonement for those I had betrayed and abandoned...

Kotone: Zora...

Someone called his name. He stopped moving, looked around with empty eyes. Beyond the darkness, there was now a girl with dandelion hair standing alone.

Zora: Kotone...

Her cobalt blue eyes were wet and staring right at him.

Asuna: Zora...

Kazuto: Brother...

Two new voice arrived. To the right, he saw two people. One was a girl with a brown chestnut hair and a hazelnut eyes. The other was a Boy with pitch black hair and a pitch black eyes.

Zora: Asuna... Kazuto...

They too were glowing tears.

Shino: Zora...

Suguha: Big Brother...

Then two more: One was a girl with glasses. The other was a girl with black bangs were cut straight across. Behind the glass lenses, her eyes were glowing with tears, too. Tears fell from the other girl's large eyes too.

Zora: Sinon... Sugu...

The will and emotions of the 5 friends became light that surged and flowed into him. A warmth like a pillar of sunlight healed his wounds and melted away his sadness.

Zora(mind):......But. But...oh, but. I could not possibly be worthy of receiving your forgiveness.

Zora: I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Kotone. I'm sorry, Asuna. I'm sorry, Brother. Sorry, Sinon. Sorry, Sugu. I can't stand anymore. I can't fight. I'm sorry......

And with the heart he'd pulled from his chest in his grasp, Zora prepared to crush it in one swift, decisive movement.

(Real World)

Higa: Why...? What's the matter, Zora?!

Despite the way his consciousness seemed to be slipping away like the blood flowing from the bullet wound in his shoulder, Takeru Higa focused on the screen.

The 5 Soul Translators housing Kotone Takemiya, Kazuto Kirigaya, Asuna Yuuki, Shino Asada, and Suguha Kirigaya were sending a tremendous amount of mnemonic data in an attempt to complement Sora Kirigaya's damaged fluctlight. Even Higa, who'd run as many tests and experiments as anyone, was astonished at the miraculous volume of data that was being provided. But the 3-D graph on the remote monitor of Sora's fluctlight activity remained in stasis just below the recovery line.

Higa: Even this...still isn't enough......?

Higa groaned. Sora's recovering self-image wasn't on pace to bring him back to reality. It was linking only to painful memories that tormented him, preventing him from breaking free. All that awaited him in that case was an eternal nightmare refrain. Even being shut down entirely would be preferable to that hell.

Higa: Just one or two more person. If only there were one or two more person with deep ties to Sora who had an accumulation of powerful memories!

But according to Lieutenant Colonel Seijirou Kikuoka, the 5 teenagers currently connected were the five people in the world who loved him the most and knew him the best. And there were no more Soul Translators available to use either in the Roppongi office or on the Ocean Turtle.

Higa: Dammit...it's not fair...

Higa gritted his teeth and clenched his fist to slam it against the side of the duct. But as soon as the thought entered his mind, he let his hand uncurl.

Higa:......What's...this...? Where is this connection from...?

He muttered, leaning closer to peer at the monitor through blood- and sweat-stained lenses. He had previously failed to notice, on Sora's fluctlight-status window, that in addition to the 5 connected lines indicating the boy and girls in the STLs, there was two more—a very thin, faint gray line coming from the bottom of the screen. Fascinated, he lifted his finger to the touch-panel screen and flicked it upward. The display scrolled in that direction, revealing the source of the gray line.

Higa: From the...Main Visualizer?! But why...?!

He shouted, momentarily forgetting his gravely injured state. The Main Visualizer was a massive piece of data storage at the core of the Lightcube Cluster, where the souls of all the Underworlders were kept. The Main Visualizer was where the information about the Underworld's terrain, buildings, and objects was stored—but not any human souls.

Higa: Objects...objects from memories...

Higa repeated to himself, thinking on overdrive.

Higa: Fluctlight memories and Underworld objects are treated the same when it comes to data formatting...So if someone was able to burn their mind, their will, into an object...would it then function as a kind of... simulated...fluctlight......?

He could only half believe the idea he was suggesting. If it was possible, then every nonliving thing in the Underworld could be controlled solely by its owner's will. But at this point, even this faint little connection seemed like the only hope remaining. Higa couldn't begin to guess whether this would help the situation or only make it worse, but regardless, he opened a connection from the Main Visualizer access to Sora's STL. One object was an ID: WLSS703, while the other was an Object ID: ABiSSLo.

(Zora's MindScape)

Eugeo: Zora.

Rumia: What's wrong Little Brother.

Right before Zora crushed his own heart, two new voice called his name. A voice that was powerful, warm, and enveloping.

Eugeo and Rumia: Zora/Sora.

Ever so slowly, Zora raised his head to see. Where endless darkness had been just a moment ago, they now stood on 4 solid legs. One was a boy. Spotless blue clothes. A flaxen cowlick that shone even in the darkness. A gentle, subtle smile on his lips. And in those dark-green eyes was a kind but powerful light, just as there had always been.

The second was a girl with straight, sun-blonde hair that is styled into a fairly neat bob-cut. She has aquamarine eyes, and wears a large, pretty, green bow on top of her head. She also wears two blue clip-ons on the right side of her head, a larger one and a smaller one that both add to her outfit. She was smiling very calmly on her lips. And her aquamarine eyes shine as brightly as the sea.

Zora lifted his hands away from his chest, which was now perfectly whole again, extended them toward him, and stood up. Zora heard himself whisper their name through trembling lips.

Zora:...Eugeo...Big Sis...

Once more.

Zora: You're alive, Eugeo. Big Sis.

His Big Sister. His best friend, and the greatest partner on both world Zora could ever have, just tinged their gentle smile with sadness and shook their head.

Rumia: I'm just a part of a memory that was saved within our connected NerveGear. And a memory that you always bring wherever you go.

Eugeo: This is the memory of me that lives inside you. And the fragment of memories we left behind.

Zora: Mem...ory...

Eugeo: That's right. Have you forgotten already? We were so sure of what we declared. Memories.

Eugeo said, then opening their right palm and pressing it to their chest.

Rumia: Our memories will always live here.

Like looking in a mirror, Zora made the exact same action.

Zora: Forever in here.

As both Rumia and Eugeo grinned happily again, Kotone strode forward to join them standing beside Rumia's left side.

Kotone: We are always connected to you through our hearts.

Asuna and Kazuto walked forward on Eugeo's right side and nodded.

Kazuto: No matter how far apart we might be...

Asuna: No matter when the time comes for us to part.

Then Shino hopped forward next to Kotone's left side and Suguha hopped forward next to Asuna's right side and said happily.

Shino: All of our Memories and all of our feelings...

Suguha: They will stay connected forever. Isn't that right?

Hot, clear liquid burst from Zora's eyes at last. Zora took a step forward and gazed desperately into the eyes of his eternal family and friend.

Zora: Are you sure, Big Sis...Eugeo...? Can I really...move forward again?

Their answer was swift and unwavering.

Rumia: Yes, you can, Little Brother. Many, many people are waiting for you.

Eugeo: Come... Let's go. Together. To wherever this takes us.

Eugeo and Zora's hands reached out from opposite directions and made contact. Then Rumia, Kotone, Kazuto, Asuna, Sinon, and Suguha added their own. Instantly, the seven people turned into waves of pure-white light, flowing into him. Zora smile through his tears.

And then...

(Underworld)

Philia:......Zora.

Philia reached and reached for Zora—until a red armored boot stomped down on her hand. She looked up to see a red knight, whose eyes were burning with hatred through the slit in his helmet, raise a sword up high with both hands in a backhand stabbing position. He issued some fierce insult and started to thrust downward.

Philia didn't have the strength to fight back, but she was determined to at least keep from shutting her eyes. She focused on the steel tip.

Ting.

There was a sharp, metallic noise and a resulting shower of orange sparks. The knight's sword jolted back up into the air, as though it had been deflected by some other, invisible sword.

Red Soldier: Uh...?

The knight grunted in confusion and swung the sword down again. That created more sparks and did not get him any closer to killing Philia. A third and fourth attempt achieved the same result. There was no fifth try. Sortiliena raced over to Philia and used the knock- back skill Torrent to push the red knight backward with the pommel of her greatsword. As she helped Philia up, Sortiliena asked her, with undisguised shock.

Liena: Was that...your Incarnate Sword, Philia?!

Philia: Incar...?

Philia repeated, unfamiliar with this word. She shook her head.

Philia: No, it wasn't me.

Liena: Then...perhaps Renly...

Sortiliena suggested, turning to look. Philia followed her gaze, but the young wounded knight was giving directions to his squad to fight back the approaching horde of red warriors and wasn't in any state to be paying attention to Philia.

This wasn't the time to be searching for the source of the phenomenon, however; they had to save every last Underworld life they could. Philia got to her feet with Sortiliena's help, willing whatever shreds of concentration she had left to help her take in the state of the scene around her.

Promptly, she felt fresh despair steal over her heart like cold black water.

Over 80 percent of the twenty thousand remaining Chinese and Koreans were launching into battle with their own kind. But the difference in morale was stark—the players seeking to continue the fight overwhelmed those who didn't. Little blue pillars of avatar destruction dotted the battlefield, accompanied by fierce war cries.

Also, a small percentage of the knights—but still over two thousand in number—were moving in on the Japanese players and the Underworlders, who were clumped in one place. The Japanese players barely had any strength left, and Renly and the rest of the Underworlders were gravely wounded. Despite the advantages of sacred arts and sword skills, there was very little they could do to vanquish their enemy.

Philia couldn't even think of what to say. All she did was cling to Sortiliena's arm.

Elsewhere, PoH's echoing laughter rang out long and loud. The Grim Reaper, who still had a huge hole in his chest, stood over the prone form of Zora. His hands were spread wide, massive Mate-Chopper in one hand and his fingers spread out on the other, and he leaned backward with majestic laughter. Dark clouds above swirled into an enormous vortex as the life resources spilled on the battlefield hung down in a whirlpool that ended directly in PoH's body.

Technically, it was the cursed blade in his hand that was absorbing the resources. If they could destroy that, the energy flow to its owner would stop, and the heartless reaper would die instantly.

But the situation was so bad that even the defeat of the enemy commander would not bring it under control. PoH's inflammatory words and evil aura were pushing the war hawks onward. If they lost their commander now, that would only give them more fuel to slaughter all the Japanese and Underworlders in a blind rage.

Philia(mind): What can we do? What can I do...?

Philia hung her head, racked with panic and desperation—but then she noticed a strange phenomenon around them. Where the ground was visible, the blackened gravel was now covered by a trail of faint-white mist. It drifted past her feet, rippling like a length of ribbon made of finest silk, and spread out as it continued past. A sweet, gentle scent tickled her nostrils.

Philia: Is that...the smell of roses...?

Philia and Sortiliena followed the ribbon of mist back to its source with their eyes. And when they saw where it was coming from, they both let out little gasps.

Philia and Liena: Oh......

And again.

Philia and Liena: Ohhh.

The source of the mist was a skinny young man lying on the ground many yards away. Technically, it was the bluish-white longsword in his left hand. The blade was snapped off halfway up, but it looked like the mist was surrounding the entire weapon and even glowing a little bit.

Philia: Zora...

Philia called out, her quavering lips forming the name of the person she loved more than any other.

Liena: Then that Incarnation...was Zora's...

Sortiliena gasped, voice thick with emotion. The white mist reached the position of the allied Chinese and Korean soldiers who were standing all around, and it continued to expand beyond them. They were too occupied with the battle to notice that everything from their knees downward was enveloped by a layer of white ribbon.

Only at this point did PoH notice what was happening and stop laughing. He stared at his feet, then sprang around to look at Zora. His tall, lanky frame jolted once, then he flipped the Mate-Chopper around for a better grip and strode forward. One step. Two steps. But he did not finish the third step. Someone whispered...chanted...in a quiet but sure voice that seemed to carry across the entire battlefield.

Zora and Eugeo: Enhance Armament.

Philia heard it inside her head, too. It was Zora's voice, but it sounded like there was some other, unfamiliar voice speaking in chorus with him.

The next moment, the entire battlefield was enveloped in a vast, stunning phenomenon on the scale of Stacia's terrain-altering powers. From the mist emerged vines of crystal clear ice, binding the bodies of the twenty-thousand-plus Chinese and Korean players, as well as PoH. They looked extremely fragile, likely to shatter the moment you touched them, but the furiously battling soldiers were immobilized so completely that time might as well have stopped by magic.

After a brief silence, shouts of surprise and anger arose, but they too died down in time. Every avatar wrapped in the icy vines was soon covered in a shroud of frost and frozen solid in moments.

Philia briefly glanced over her shoulder toward the red knight who had tried to save Asuna. He, too, was an ice sculpture now. But he didn't seem to be in any pain; his eyes were peacefully closed, as far as she could see through his helm visor. The technique wasn't meant to destroy or inflict pain, just to stop those it touched. She faced forward again to see that PoH was frozen white as well. She looked at Sortiliena and nodded to indicate her state.

Philia: Thank you, Liena... I'm fine now.

The chief guard let go of her, and she rushed toward Zora, crunching the frost on the ground underfoot. Behind her followed Sortiliena and Ronie, who came running up from the Human Guardian Army's forces.

Zora was still facedown on the ground, clutching the broken sword in his left hand. But Philia could tell that at this very moment, his mind was coming back to him. If she could touch his hand, cradle him, call out to him, he would respond. He would surely respond.

The span of a few dozen yards felt like it continued to the ends of the earth. Less than twenty seconds felt longer than eternity. But with each stride of her aching legs, the form of her beloved grew larger and larger in her view. Almost there. Almost within reach...In the instant that her outstretched hand was going to touch that familiar black hair, she heard a tremendous, earsplitting crash. The women looked up and saw, very close by, the figure of PoH breaking through the ice vines and frost to take one violent step forward.

PoH: I've been waiting my whole life for this!! Now, let's dance... Zoraaaaaa!!

As far as Philia knew, this was the first time, going all the way back to their SAO days, that PoH had actually spoken that name. He readied the Mate-Chopper and leaped like some monstrous bird. The frighteningly thick blade descended, exuding an evil red-black aura. And it was aimed not at Zora but at Philia and the other two women.

Liena: No—!

Sortiliena rushed forward, raising her damaged longsword over her head to block the reaper's blow. But the enlarged dagger, nearly three times its original size now, didn't even need to touch her blade directly; its wicked aura alone split Sortiliena's sword in two.

The shock knocked the chief guard backward. Philia and Ronie stood behind her in an attempt to keep her upright. The three of them ended up clumped together, with the wicked blade coming down in a lethal swing...Claaaaang!

There was a tremendous ringing just above them, knocking them onto their behinds. But the knife hadn't touched them. It was vibrating, like it had struck some invisible barrier hanging in the air. The exact same thing that had prevented the red knight from hitting Philia earlier.

This time, she definitely felt it. She was being protected by warm, strong, familiar arms. Just before the invisible barrier, she could see something faintly glowing. Painted in the air in little golden motes of light was a hand with fingers outstretched—a right hand. Then she heard a scraping sound. Philia's head turned automatically to the left.

Though Zora's face was still against the ground, his left hand had the broken white sword pointed into the soil. And with that as a base, his frail, emaciated body was slowly, slowly rising up off the ground. The empty right sleeve of his black and white shirt swayed in the breeze. No—not quite. It was gradually filling out, moving closer to the place where the illusionary hand supported the barrier.

When the sleeve made contact with the hand, it created a golden brilliance, dispersing the evil miasma that lurked on the other side of the wall. The barrier slammed PoH's body, knocking him far backward. When the brilliance faded, Philia was looking at a perfectly whole—if still slightly emaciated—hand and arm. Her eyes followed his arm upward, past his shoulder. Tears burst from her eyes, never-ending, and she couldn't stop a high-pitched peal from leaving her throat. It wasn't just her, her closest friends, Asuna, Lisbeth, Silica, Klien, Agil, and Yuuki all were smiling happily. That includes the surviving ALO and GGO members, along with the Human Guardian Armies. Philia clenched her hands before her chest and channeled her wave of emotion into words.

Philia:......Welcome home, Zora.

And then she saw long bangs waving in the breeze. Lips forming a gentle smile. And two blue pupils gazing back at her from the same level. His lips moved, and his voice emerged:

Zora: Yeah. I am back, Kotone.