Alkor

If the question were a firearm, it would have been loaded.

In the months since he woke up, everything had changed. The grim realization that this world and the other were mirror versions of one another, and he could not simply play the part of a character in a story still hung heavy over his head. The desire to cut and run was gone, replaced by the bitter sentiment that he had to soldier forward without someone at his side guiding him. Now after the events of the Obsidian Invasion and a talk with the Player NIGHT, who made him realize just how foolish his desire to help people while remaining apart from them truly was, Alkor found himself at a total loss.

Further set back than square one, he was at ground zero. When Lessa asked how he was, Alkor had no idea how to answer. They'd broken through a layer of difficulty in their interactions the last time, but Lessa was a changed person. She wasn't the same, almost fragile, dependent girl he had promised to protect all those years ago.

And he wasn't pretending to be the dauntless hero, either. So, stripped of the façade that he had worn for so long, he strung together the best answer he had. "I'm still alive," he said with a slight smile and a chuckle that seemed half nervous and half amused. How ironic it was that he wasn't dead in a world where communication was key. "So it can't be all bad, right?"

Right?

His expression slowly returned to the anxious, non emotive mask he generally wore, but the cracks were all too visible now. It wasn't fair to dump any of that on Lessa, nor was he going to. Instead, he decided. Alkor was going to find the path for himself.

That also meant he had to learn what it meant to connect with people. And to be friends. "How about you?" he asked.

In a sense, he had died.

Perhaps he was still dead. To many people he knew, or had known, Alkor was a spectre. He only became real now to Life because the man had seen him. "I was eaten by a Hydra," Alkor answered with a Devil-may-care lilt to his voice. 

There was no point in rehashing the conversation again, and Life seemed to accept his existence without much of a fuss. Seeing is believing, he supposed. For the man long presumed dead, it was a great comfort that the other player did not ask many questions. He simply wanted to get into the fight and get his hands dirty.

Alkor turned slowly to face Life as the next question came. "Decided to back the Treants, eh?" he mused quietly. While he had not made any decision of his own in that regard, Alkor had nothing to lose one way or the other. And most people seemed to favor the Elves.

Perhaps it would prove enlightening to walk the path less traveled. 

The past few weeks since he awoke had been tumultuous and bitter, and the dark swordsman needed time and space to clear his head. Slaughtering a few elves could be a day's therapy- Or it could cause years of need for therapy down the line, but he'd already brushed with death once, so he made the decision to face the future when the future came, and not before that.

This happened an hour or so before I dived.

I'm writing this so I don't forget. Time passes outside while we're in this world, and the people we left behind go on without us. That said, we go on without them, too. Only living that reality could have taught me what that really meant to me. This is where my story starts. This is who I was. Who I am.

Before the line blurs too much to tell the difference.

-Thom

The alarm screamed, same as always. Three hours of sleep separated one day from the next, and my bloodshot eyes shot around a pitch black room seeking purchase on reality. The way I lived often felt more fluid than partitioned. Hours, minutes, and seconds were arbitrary when the only thing I had to look forward to was another day of work. Morning hours before sunrise were almost always the worst. I tried to get what sleep I could while Grandmom screamed. She hated being alone, but she'd long since lost the ability to relay that in words. 

Sometimes, the only way she got to sleep was the Ativan. If I'm being honest, I can't look at her like this. I go through the motions to take care of her out of a sense of responsibility. She did the same thing for me for years. I don't know what the next day for me holds, or where to go from here. Grandmom was my guiding light in a world that was as dark as the room I woke up in, and now that light has dimmed.

See, my mom and my sister live in another house a few blocks away. They come over to check in, but they're both busy with their own lives. Mom and Grandmom never got along when she was lucid. I think she secretly holds that against her now.

My sister and Grandmom were never close. It felt like they were from two very different generations, and those ideologies we're constantly at war with one another. Whenever one tried to hold up an olive branch, somewhere, something got miscommunicated and it fell apart. So, now, my sister sees no reason to make peace with a woman who's too far gone to appreciate the effort. That's what I think, anyway. I don't talk to my sister enough to find out what's going on in her head.

I always wake up at the same time, even when it's my day off. Sometimes I get lucky, and I go back to sleep for a few hours- but not today. No, today, it came in the mail.

I'd been waiting for this for months. The NerveGear, Sword Art Online- my chance to escape, if only for a little while. Before that, I have to check on Grandmom: make sure she's clean and doesn't need a change of clothes, talk to her a bit even though she doesn't quite get what I'm saying, get her breakfast...

That's the routine. On work days, that takes about a half hour before I jump in the shower and rush to hit the clock. Then I do an eight hour, hurry home, and fall asleep. It's mindless, if not easy.

In short, I'm boring. It was boring. I was ready for something different.

Grandmom was always telling me I should go out and make new friends. I... don't know how to do that. Talking to people terrifies me. What I do for a living now leaves my skin crawling. I hole up in my room as much as possible to try to unwind from having to interact with customers while I stock. Sometimes it helps.

But, inside a game, it's different. I can be anyone I want. I don't have to be close, to share who I am, to make real and lasting relationships with people. I don't have to emotionally connect, and so, it's all just fun and carefree. That's what I thought. That's what I wanted.

A game. Nothing real. Somewhere I didn't have to be Thom. That's why I made the personality of Alkor. He was a hero, born of the fantasy games and novels I'd grown up on. He was everything I dreamed of being, but could never actually be.

Alkor is a fearless, swashbuckling rogue. He wants to help people, and to stop bad guys... Yeah, looking back, it was a pretty shallow archetype. But no one expected anything from him. At least, I didn't think anyone did. But I'm not there yet. This is how I created him. 

I expected to be playing a game. I think we all did. 

The last thing I said to grandmom, was "I love you. I'll be back soon."

Life had other plans.

Embroiled in conflict, the Elves and Treants smashed against each other constantly. Alkor watched passively as NPCs burst into streams of data, emptying out the battlefield before the inevitable respawn. The quest givers hung toward the back, glowering in the direction of one another, but ultimately remained away from the violence.

Alkor took the opportunity to tread through the lot of them, reaping indiscriminately in the interest of experience. Corpses hewn aside dissipated quickly, and the dark swordsman was left in solitary introspection. He had yet to decide which side to throw his backing behind.

Both types of enemies seemed to yield similar experience. The drops were garbage. The quest items would probably be the determining factor. 

He ripped Blightsteel through the back of the Elf that ran at him last, exhaling loudly from his ennui.

Hopefully, something interesting would happen soon. He dropped down to the third floor to sweep up any quests he had passed over. The experience points were decent enough to matter, to propel him toward the next level and the ability to fight stronger enemies and ascend to higher floors.

His obsession had evolved into zeal.

The name Zelrius haunted Alkor, not because he hated the young man but because of the things he had heard. After Alkor, many people were lost during boss fights. Once believed the strongest in all of Aincrad, the Blood Bucaneer became one of those nameless, drifting memories.

They had worked together on occasion, and he even considered the boy to be one of the few friends he made. Now, he was gone. Lessa held his sword. Funny how things came together that way.

Alkor studied the weapon quietly and then looked up toward its owner. The last time they'd seen each other hadn't been during a dragon fight. They parted ways to find new information, and ultimately met up during an event where they worked together with Macradon and that infuriating Bahr guy.

Now that it was over, they were back to business as usual. Maybe it wasn't bothering her the way it did him. He looked away from her and his hand fell to the weapon on his hip. A gift from Father Wuotan. Blightsteel.

"I'm ready to take it on," he said after his moment of introspection. "So, floor three sounds good to me."

Alkor glanced at the voucher she had received when she came to show it to him with a soft smile. It was nice to hear someone excited about something in Aincrad. Whenever it happened, however rare or not it might be it was a euphoric feeling. Infectious, even.

"That's really great, An," he said, calling her by the shortened version of her name the way she'd asked him to. "That'll be really useful for when you're doing quests or fighting tough mobs." He was reminded of the blade at his hip, similarly given him by Father Wuotan- but he didn't want to seem like he was trying to one up the girl. This was her moment. It was for her to enjoy.

He sat down in the next few moments, ignoring the cold sensation that crept across his body. She started back to work on her part of the snowman, and he continued as she instructed. When she praised him, he glanced her way and offered a short thumbs up. 

"So now what, we roll them until they get bigger?" he asked, recalling what he knew about the process. The golden eyed player recalled the fourth floor, and the way that he and his friends used to spend so much time there. Time had torn them apart. Now, he was a solo player again, and despite reuniting with Lessa... they hadn't really done much, beyond a few quests and things were still awkward.

Maybe, he'd find a friend in Andromeda? That would be nice. They might even be able to do quests together.

@Andromeda

She was... talkative.

Alkor had met his fair share of new people inside Aincrad, and some of them were long winded or enjoyed the sound of their own voice. At least, he got that impression from the way they felt the need to talk at him, at length. This girl wasn't quite like that. 

No, the dark swordsman got the impression this girl just liked to talk. He couldn't relate. That said, she was attempting conversation. At least, it felt that way from the questions and comments she posed to him. Now, the hard part.

He had to actually engage her in conversation, even if it was heavily one sided. Part of him wanted to leave it be, nod and wear a vacant smile. Another part of him insisted he at least make an effort. He promised he'd be better. 

"A little," he muttered. He didn't sound like he agreed with her or disagreed, but more like he was acknowledging her words. He gave her a quick glance after that, managing not to scowl. "It's a pretty safe area, if you wanted to keep swimming. I won't get in your way."

That part sounded almost sincere, like he was being considerate. The shut in was getting more skilled at telling people to go away! Ahhh, social skills.

@Raina

Okay, Alkor blinked slowly when he heard it. The splash drew his attention from solidarity and into the present with a jolt. His liquid golden eyes stared hard at the culprit, who rose from the water with droplets of water slinking across her flesh. Everything was pronounced, almost like Aincrad intended to tempt the thoughts of young men and boys to sin. At least, that's the interpretation Alkor got out of what he saw. I went from action anime to hentai in .05. 

The swordsman heaved a sigh when the woman addressed him. What was with that halfway modest greeting? It didn't mesh with her attire at all. Alkor glanced away with calculated disinterest as she summoned her towel and set about making herself decent.

Not that there was any expedience to her movement.

"No, you're fine," the dark swordsman waved a hand dismissively. "This area is public and it's not like I can just reserve it on a whim. Please, don't mind me."

It wouldn't change anything now if she left, after all. His concentration was shattered. As Alkor stared pointedly toward the raging falls, he recalled her hair color.

Pink.

Pink haired women were always trouble, weren't they?

"I don't swim much anymore, he replied to her question. He hadn't since he was a boy. There was hardly a reason to do so inside of Sword Art Online, either.

"I'm Alkor," he said after a pregnant pause. He finally looked at her once she had greeted him, and she was covered. Covered enough, anyway. "You, too," he added.

@Raina

The Waterfall marked a place for Players to go to test their limits. It hosted one of the more intense solo quests in the earlier portion of Aincrad, and something Alkor had yet to conquer for himself. Yet, it was not that which brought him to this place and he was not intent on challenging his own demons this day.

No, for now, the soothing sounds of crashing water and the warmth of steam that billowed out from it offered him clarity. Many things transpired since Alkor returned from his lengthy sleep. People, both new and old to him interacted and caused him to learn things about himself and about dealing with others.

Outside of the game, he may never have learned those lessons. As he sat cross-legged near the bottom of the falls, Alkor took a deep breath and closed his eyes. How would he choose to go forward from here? There was contempt between him and the man, Bahr.

Bahr, who appeared to be connected to Lessa. One of his oldest friends in Aincrad, the woman now stood taller and stronger than he did. In terms of levels, she was so far ahead he was unsure that he could catch her.

Then, there was Mari. His actions were not intended to be cruel, yet she would have taken them in that way. It was hard to not. He couldn't convince her otherwise, nor would he try.

Every part of the swordsman wanted to deny himself this new life. He hated the idea that he could have a second lease when the first had expired with no advancement. He never grew as a person hidden behind the facade of Alkor. He never grew beyond the character he pretended to be.

Now, he had.

He recognized his weakness, faced it, and moved forward in spite of his fears. In the few moments it took the Hydra boss to nearly end his life and send him reeling into a coma, something snapped and left him laid bare.

In his dreams, he saw himself alone. He lost everything, and his hand opened to release the only hand he had ever been truly happy to hold. Would she still be there, when finally they were free?

Hold on, Grandma. I'll see you before it's all over. I promise.

@Raina

He listened intently, carefully to what she told him. She seemed to really place a lot of importance on the method and Alkor didn't want to screw things up. He nodded, golden eyes flickering over the snow as he shaped it in both hands. Was that right?

Firm, but gentle? Had he ever done anything quite like that? He found himself doubting his ability to follow those instructions solely based on the wording, even if the snowball did seem to be taking shape.

She looked like she was getting colder, though. Reddened face, increased movement, rapid speech... he wondered if she had been out too long? Not that it was incredibly dangerous in this area, to his knowledge. There were zones where the weather had the potential to be hazardous.

Still, he felt a bit concerned. Against his hesitant nature, the urge to help others always seemed to win out. He tilted his head. "Are you cold?" he asked. "I've got an extra cloak in my inventory, if you need another layer."

Then, he heard a familiar voice. Father Wuotan approached, and he greeted Alkor before moving toward the other Player... Players? Was there anyone else there? "I'm well, Father," Alkor returned the greeting warmly. "I hope you are, too."

He then set about packing and rolling the snowball, the way An had instructed. She was getting her Christmas present! It was important not to interrupt, after all.

@Andromeda 

The hardest thing to accept when faced with the Cardinal system was knowing that it knew your mind. It could scan memories and thoughts, and in a single instant conjure your greatest fears or inadequacies. Alkor knew that this was just that- a phenomenon brought on by the Cardinal system, in response to his accepting the quest for a familiar.

But, was this the normal familiar quest? Wasn't he just supposed to find a creature, throw it some food, and make nice? It seemed like a low-grade form of psychological torture, from what he could feel, see, and hear.

Are you going to cry?

Alkor stopped, cold. It was like the bullies that plagued him during his years of school, or the people who never understood why he kept his distance from others. They always asked questions or taunted him. There was never peace. 

He felt tugging at his hair, like someone was pulling him off the ground. 

You are. You're crying again. How pathetic is that?

When she started to laugh, Alkor blinked. Had he said something wrong? Done something? His gaze followed the woman to make sure she was alright even as she dexterously handled the ball of snow and formed it in front of her. She seemed to be alright, so he sighed in relief.

"Andromeda," he repeated as she gave her name. After the galaxy, perhaps? Or the name of the goddess from Greek mythology? Either one was a fascinating concept, and spoke to something about the girl for choosing it. He didn't know her well enough to ask about that, though.

Or rather, he supposed that it might be rude to ask someone why they picked their username.

"Oh- uh, alright," he said as she said he could help her. That startled him. Alkor wasn't much good at doing things with other people, or as a group. Anything that involved working as a team... yeah, he was still working on that whole aspect of Sword Art Online.

"If you're okay with it, I suppose I'll try, An," he knelt down a distance away from her, toward the fresh snow she'd indicated. Safe distance. This'll be okay, right? "Okay, so... I start to do this?"

@Andromeda

The first floor offered a quiet place for reflection. After several days of trying intensely to catch up on all the things he'd fallen behind in, Alkor decided he would head to Tolbana Town and relax alone, where there would be fewer people to interact with. He stepped from the teleporter and headed to the edge of town at top speed.

He almost came colliding into Ceres, who dragged someone along behind her. Almost, because he managed to stop himself by lowering his level and skidding to a halt. 

Alkor slowly recovered and stood, jarred by the sudden change in momentum. As he did so, he looked at the two Players who almost ran into him. Did he know them?

Maybe?

"Sorry," he mumbled as he made to pass them by and get back to traveling toward Tolbana. Whether or not he remembered their faces after a few moments, he had come to the first floor in order to get away from the constant barrage of people trying to make their way in Aincrad.

He wasn't exactly interested in a good conversation.

@Ceres @Atzo

"Wh-oah!" He called out in surprise as she hit him, albeit totally on accident. He had picked up his pace when he heard her call out to him, and because the whole building seemed to stir and shift around them, he had no sense of their relative distance. Hissing in pain, the Swordsman staggered backward while clutching his head. "Ow," he mumbled as he slowly focused his eyes on Lessa.

"It is you," he said breathlessly. For some reason, he had not expected the woman to run into him. Even less, he did not expect her to call out his name. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Alkor held out his hand and offered to help her to her feet. "We should probably get out of here before we start conversing," he added. "I don't want to find out how hard it is to get trapped in this place."

Without hesitating or waiting for her response, he helped her up and they headed for the exit.

Su'cuy gar, vod.

There was nothing else but heat, ashes, and smoke now. The world spiraled around him and choked him, threatening to encroach from the immense pressure on either hand. Whether they intended to or not, the other two Players weighed heavily on the anxious Swordsman, who shored up all of his resolve to block out the things that were dragging him down.

The other man disappeared. The sensation of other people faded. Darkness sucked him in and drowned his senses. Aincrad and Alkor stared at each other through the abyss, and a moment later, the world went white.

Serenity washed over him. Whether the system understood him, or resonated with his determination he couldn't say; but what Alkor could say was that a familiar voice came to him in that moment.

You can do it.

The shakes faded from his arms and he felt something swell in his chest. His eyes opened, burning now like gilded flames. He stared into the portal at the epicenter of their circle, and he willed it to be gone.

In that single moment, their will was as one.

The Portal responded by slowly flickering from existence.

Alkor grit his teeth as Bahr spoke, fingernails biting into digital flesh as his knuckles turned white. This arrogant prick just pushed all the wrong buttons, and he had plenty of words for the stoplight eyed Player. "I don't know who the f-"

Just as he was about to unload a torrent of unhealthy, unfiltered curses at the man, Alkor was stopped by Lessa. She said she understood, but apparently this was the only way for them to move forward.

The swordsman let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. "...fine," he resigned himself. It was less important that he chew Bahr out for existing and more important that he got this over with as soon as possible.

He took Mac's hand finally and accepted Lessa's, but kept his eyes closed. He couldn't help but fidget uncomfortably. This type of touch based interaction made his skin crawl.

And he kept telling himself, "stop thinking about how much of a douche he is, stop thinking about how much of a douche he is..."

The effort went about as poorly as expected.

"Dammit!" he seethed in frustration. 

Wait, did they just... start holding hands? What the hell did Macradon just say about singing campfire songs and being best friends? Alkor stared from one face to the next, mortified by the suddenly display of muted, mandated affection between four people who really didn't know each other all that well.

Well, he didn't know two of them that well. "Wait wait, what the hell?" He pulled away before either of the other two Players could take his hand. "There's got to be a different way to go about this, because I'm really not comfortable with Christmas Cookies staring deeply into my eyes. And no offense Mac, you're a nice guy, but I'm not really the hand holding type. You didn't even take me to dinner first."

Alkor shifted uncomfortably and looked from one Player to the next. "I think we need to really think this one out before we jump headlong into it. Is standing around it and playing My Little Pony going to do the trick?"

Once he was content with the knowledge that the citizens were safe behind friendly guards, Alkor hurried through the tunnels and navigated his way above ground. What he saw when he returned to the surface was horrible. Devastation wrought across the face of the settlement only worsened as the onslaught continued, and even while the Players toiled to beat it back, the Cardinal System gave rewarded them with outright war.

He kept his blade at the ready as he moved through emptied streets and burned out buildings, an elaborate maze of desolation. They kept coming from a concentration of sources- the information dealers had worked quickly to obtain that info and make it available, and the incursion was being swiftly dealt with as a result.

So, when he eyed the last portal, Alkor gunned it straight toward-

Lessa? Oh, good, someone he could trust to help handle the situation, and she was hugging...

"...woah, woah! Hey there!" Alkor called out absently as he came to a halt a healthy distance from the two. His eyes moved from Bahr to Lessa, and he put up a hand to direct his speech solely to the woman.

"Hey, what are you doing with Mister Temper Tantrum?" he asked her, no hint of subtlety in his voice. "You shouldn't get too close. He might punch you for no reason."

[Moving to Portals]

@Bahr @Lessa

The most annoying thing was how far he lagged behind the group. It was difficult to discern how quickly they were moving, and impossible to tell if they had run into any trouble along the way. He kept himself operating on the assumption that if he were still able to advance to the rear, they had not stopped in any significant way. 

That was the only thing he had at this point, because other Players had already hurried ahead of him to secure the refugees. Every so often, he stopped and turned to run to keep the distance between himself and the group as small as he could; but the reality was, this was an exhausting battle. A losing battle.

Victory came in what they manage to scrounge from the losses. Everything left behind when the chaos passed meant hope would flourish again. Even though they were not Players, the denizens of Aincrad deserved better than to suffer at the whims of Cardinal. In that way, they were United.

Alkor snapped around one last time and began railing against the encroaching line, browbeaten but hardly defeated. The light of dawn would come soon- proverbial at least. He knew it would. 

With that thought, he heard it.

"We're saved!" came the relieved outcry from the people he had escorted. "We're not going to die!"

When he glanced back, he saw why.

A line of guards, all ready and waiting to defend the people.

He deflected another blow and looked back over his shoulder. There were so many of them gathered, all apparently rallied with hopeful gazes to watch as he fought off their attackers. "I'll hold them!" he called to the group, "you all need to get into the tunnels! Follow the others, I'll be right behind you!"

They seemed to take to his words with instant certainty, aware that his skill was equal to the task of their defense. The swordsman held against a wave of smaller attackers with his curved sword in hand, slashing and slicing wickedly through enemies as they scurried at him en masse. It wasn't like the fights he was used to: they were weak, but there were so many. Even a single one would spell doom for the NPCs, but to a Player, this was as nothing.

The trials they faced as they cleared floors prepared them for things just like this.

He continued to press back against the enemy forces until the last survivor had retreated to the tunnels. Then, Alkor began to fall back himself. There was little time to waste, and they had no way of cutting off the enemy- they just had to keep moving until they reached their goal.

By the time he heard the news, the relief efforts were already under way. The siege brought down immense pressure and made pushing into the town deeply enough to do any sort of fighting a fool's errand. Still, there were things that Alkor could actually manage.

While the walls were hideously burned, most of the flames had been doused and much of the wreckage had been cleared. Players worked together to alleviate the horrific damage that had been done to the Floor Seventeen settlement, and for the first time Alkor had a reason to believe his newfound faith in teamwork was not misplaced.

The golden eyed swordsman scanned the situation and quickly determined the best course of action. For now, making sure the people trapped in the dungeons made it out safely was the most he could do.

"Alright," he steeled himself and drew air into his lungs, then let his voice boom. "Anyone who can hear me, I'm going to make sure you get out of here safe! Hurry up and group around me as quickly as you can!"

There were still threats, like enemies that had yet to be put down. Alkor did what he could with his blade and whipped away at smaller foes, keeping them at bay. He saw people trickling out of hiding and taking shelter behind him, so that was good.

Hopefully, a good number of them would be able to take advantage of his assistance.

He tilted his head as she explained. Despite the existence of snow back where he grew up, the man behind Alkor spent most of his hours indoors, or away from people. The snow was beautiful and he enjoyed it, but he had almost always done so from afar.

So, to walk in it now was foreign. It felt like he was a child learning about the cold for the second or third time. His exposure in Aincrad was limited to the time he had been able to spend on the fourth floor. Now, this event made it seem even more special. He could understand the allure of wanting to take advantage of it.

"I see," he muttered as he watched her. It was sweet that she could enjoy the world in such a serene, almost childish manner despite their situation. Perhaps this girl had more wisdom than any of those people who cast aside momentary bliss for efficiency and results. "A snowman, hm? That's pretty cool."

He wore a soft smile as he spoke, hands tucked into his pockets for warmth. "I don't remember ever building one myself," he confessed. When she asked about him, and if he was enjoying the festival and the event, he frowned a bit as he recalled the last few hours.

They had hardly been his favorite.

Then, he managed to smile. Her warm mood was infectious. Alkor didn't want to bring it down. "Yeah, it's been pretty cool to get a little bit of a break," he said. That much at least was honest. "I'm Alkor, by the way," he introduced himself. "It's nice to meet you."

@Andromeda

He heard something, or someone, but could see nothing. It was like he had gone to a new place where everything was relative, but nothing existed for him to cling to. If not for the steely resolve he had to be sure that whoever was within was safe, he would have turned right around.

Maybe he was wrong to defy his fear.

A sound crept across his ears and he saw something move. Or he thought he saw something move. The senses distorted when the mind was in flux. It was a parallax caused by both the augmented reality and by his own emotions, simply put- his truth was defined by his mind.

If he felt fear, fear manifested. That was why bosses in Sword Art Online could be so terrifying. Cardinal fed off of what the Players experienced. It had the capacity to be a benign system.

It had just been made into something more brutal.

As Alkor moved into the next room, he raised his voice. "If you can hear me, are you safe? I'm close to the entrance!"

He hadn't seen anything like it. Granted, he had a limited experience when it came to the various floors of Aincrad, and other than the hallowed ground of Floor 11 inside the safe zone, nothing quite matched the architecture of this particular building. Even Taft was a far cry from a proper comparison.

Alkor moved toward the entrance with his hand outstretched, utilizing his meager investigation skill to see if there was any imminent danger. Before it could sense anything however, he heard the sounds of movement from within.

Three distinct voices, but nonsensical sound. It was like that had willfully entered the belly of a beast, and the flesh between its stomach and the outside world distorted all sound. Alkor gripped his weapon and drew it into hand, then took a deep breath.

It was a textbook horror scenario, the kind where brave and foolish men alike ran headlong to their deaths. The token screaming woman. Some slasher pulp goth scream mask villain. The Swordsman was well equipped to death with that kind of danger, where all those others were not.

"Who's here?" he called out purposefully as light seemed to disappear behind him. The sun's rays didn't quite reach beyond the threshold, and dusty cobwebs hung between him as every other room.

He sneezed.