[SP-F1] Plunged into Darkness [Complete]

[Guest]

Behind him, the city grew smaller with every step. Alkor still found himself locked in surreal disbelief at how absolutely real everything felt. Rain felt like it had when he was... alive? No, he shook his head violently at the disassociation he had almost made. This wasn't death. SAO was just an alternate portion of his own life, now.

Ironic, how all his mother's jeering had come back to haunt him. "One day, those games are going to consume you..." He found himself laughing at that, and he wiped a tear that felt just like the ill fated weather pouring down on him. The frigid touch of wind sweeping over his soaked form made him want for shelter.

He had almost resigned himself to it, though the anger was still there, boiling beneath the surface. He entered the menu and scrolled through the skill options, considering where to spend the few points he had been given at the start. He had not yet encountered a mob (that's what gamers called monsters, he had discovered, mobs), but he could see a group of them not too far away. "Better start small," he told himself.

Alkor dropped into the sub menu and proceeded to read the descriptions of the skills there. Skills to augment proficiency with weapons, skills for defense, skills for recovering HP...

For now, the aspirant swordsman allocated his points thus- a man skilled with a blade needed to actually be skilled with one. The menu backed out and another alert popped up, telling him his skill in one handed straight swords had gone up to rank one. Congratulations!

He snorted, then drew his sword. The foreign feelings were gone, replaced with nominal amounts of confidence. He held the blade up, dropping into a ready position. "I need to get this right," he said evenly, and Alkor took a few quick swings. "I can't mess this up."

In the distance, he saw a lone boar appear...

[Guest]

Where do I end, and where does this world begin? Blankly staring at the sword in his hand, Alkor felt his senses had betrayed him. Everything about his sense of touch told him that the weapon clutched in his hand was real. The air he was breathing tasted as crisp as the suburbs he had grown up in, and the sun breaking through the clouds warmed him just like sunset over the harbor.

When he heard the telltale squeal of a boar twisting round to regard him with ire, he bolted upright. This feels so real, he observed, reflecting on articles that had featured the enigmatic man behind this entire world that stated "it isn't just something you play." How true those words had been, now that he looked back on them. The man had become deluded, numb to the consequences of his actions against ten thousand human beings.

How many were already dead? Alkor shivered at the thought as it shot through him like venom. Fear took the place of pain in his nervous system, shooting messages to cower from every single receptor back to his brain. He fought the urge to fall right there to his knees, to accept the fate he had been handed.

Without words, he fell forward into a staggered stance, left foot forward, left hand wound tightly around the hilt of his blade. He took an even breath, familiarizing himself with the skill he had chosen- one handed, straight sword. The game took over and did it's part, automatically adjusting for his skill level and parameters. He felt like this was where he belonged.

And he wondered, was this world- with a skill or experience for everything- supposed to be better? Was this what Kayaba wanted, for himself, and for everyone playing? His eyes set on the boar as he surged forward, the sword gliding along skillfully as he carved a swath through the air.

The boar rushed forward to meet him.

[Guest]

Alkor's eyes went wide as the red line scratched across his avatar, indicating that he'd missed. But the boar had not. There was no pain- instead, his HP meter dropped a point, and his gaze was drawn to it almost magnetically. It was the first time in his life he had ever been reminded of his mortality.

And it terrified him. "Y-you..." The youth shook violently as the realization took him. It was real. It was more than a game- it was a fight to survive. Every single creature under creation in this world wanted him dead. "That's it," he muttered, "you're gonna DIE!!!!!"

This time when the shortsword rose, it remained a fraction above waist height. His shoulder dipped, and he coaxed himself forward into a half sprint. Ignoring sword skills he could have used, he went directly into attack mode. Twin brown eyes burned with inner fire as he once again raced to meet his opponent.

And again, the boar raced toward him. This time, he could hear it's wild snorts and ragged breath as they grew ever closer. He remembered something he had learned once, about knowing his opponent. And in this, he felt he was learning. "Come... ON!"

[Guest]

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HP: 3/5

He stared blankly at the Heads Up Display as his HP ticked down a second time, and the boar seemed to mock him with a swish of its tail. He gritted his teeth, HP bar now glowing a menacing yellow. "I'm not gonna die," he said in a low voice, "not here. Not like this."

He backed up several paces, the boar eyeing him with its generally violent intent, and he let his blade sag a bit. "I just have to get better at this," he said quietly. "I'm going to keep going until I get it right."

The sword rose this time, glowing a gentle golden color as he let himself sink into the skill he had "trained" himself in with the starter points. He made the motion with his body, and the weapon reacted... now... The system responded to the trigger command, and he went barreling forward, blade sinking toward the boar. The creature slashed it's tusks at him with minimal worry that he might strike true, after two failed attempts.

[Guest]

"Tch..." Alkor felt nothing, but the meter dropped to 2, and his bar blinked red. WARNING appeared in bright letters in front of him, and he trembled, staring down at his feet. His eyes disappeared behind a blanket of shadow, and he wondered if this was the end. "I don't get another chance," he said, "but you don't care, do you?"

He looked up with a sad smile toward the boar. "You're just an artificial intelligence. You were programmed to try to kill me... to kill us. All of us. But when you die, you're just one in a billion. Data creates more of you, over and over." He spoke at the boar, a creature oblivious to his meaning or the tragic state his mind was slipping into. It scuffed it's feet along the dirt, as if warning him that another strike was coming.

"I... I have to keep going," he told himself, but his heart beat with terror that he might not make it out of this alive. "One more try," he said, "then I'll run. Just one more."

It was becoming easier. Admittedly, he was uncertain why he hadn't struck yet. His body was conforming to the movements, the system was getting easier to understand and utilize. He just had to let it all come together. Alkor hoped that, with his next strike, he might gain something more than another scar to bear.

The blade swept across the dirt, and as the boar raced toward him, his eyes tracked the creature's movements. "Not this time," he vowed, and he ripped the weapon upward quickly, intent on blocking the oncoming strike.

[Guest]

"Yes!!!!" Alkor cheered as the boar met with the resistance of his weapon, and he swung the blade through in a clean strike. The boar shirred round in confusion as the strike ripped through its health.

The system blinked with the message "CRITICAL!!" The bar slid from full to nothing in a single stroke, and the creature burst into a stream of data around him. Alkor blinked, and he scrolled down the combat log. 4 damage- Critical Hit. He stopped short, took a deep breath, and fell down on his knees. Tears streaked down his cheeks, and he buried his face in both hands.

I almost died. The thought strike him like a hammerblow, rippling through to his very core. If he were a metal, he would have been brittle and useless. Like so many dead players before him, he had gone out and assumed nothing, and he had faced it alone. Unlike them, however, Alkor had survived. "I didn't die," he said, tenacity slowly renewing itself. "I'm not dead."

He brushed the tears from his face. He couldn't let himself fall victim to his own emotions. Not now- he couldn't just give up so soon after his first victory. "I'm still alive," he repeated the sentiment, reminding himself of the truth in it. "I'm alive, and I'm not going to die."

Alkor sheathed his weapon and sighed his relief. "Still, that doesn't mean I can just sit here in the red. I need to heal. He slid his hand in front of him and opened the menu, then toggled the map. The next city was not far, and he could get there if he hurried without taking any more damage.

He broke into a run, smile across his face, and the setting sun burned down on him.

[Guest]

His HP still flickered red as he took his first steps into Horunka Village. The second "safe zone" on the first floor, this village offered him a place to relax, free from the dangers of the world outside. So many others had begun to take refuge in safe zones, terrified of the world beyond. In his own mind, he had weighed the possibility of remaining against the advantages of moving forward, and Alkor had decided that it was better not to give in.

If I hide from this world forever, I'll never be free. As much as he had hated the real world, for all of its unfairness and all the things he had gone through, Alkor had to admit, someone in the real world must have cared. There's no way the news hasn't gone viral, now. Mom would have found out already, and she'd have known I was here.

The concept of his mother not taking the opportunity to yank the NerveGear off his prone body and severing his lifeline awoke in him another strange realization. Maybe, somewhere beyond all that aggression and disdain, she does care about me? If I ever get out of here, maybe...

He stopped himself. Thinking about his problems in the real world was just the same escapism as he had intended Sword Art Online to be. It was a sick irony, and he found himself laughing out loud at it. "Maybe there's a lesson here," he said grimly, walking toward one of the vendors in the city. "Maybe escapism is just as dangerous as facing your problems head on. Maybe even more so."

Alkor shook his head as he came up to one of the NPC vendors, and he began to browse the selection for a healing potion. There had to be a nicely priced one, somewhere.

[Guest]

"Uhhhhh..." Alkor grinned and ruffled his hair as the shopkeeper gave him a skeptical look. "Erm... I mean... that is..."

"Whaddya mean, you ain't got no Col? Scram, boy, before I beat you to death with this broom!" Alkor blinked, and he backed away from the shop. Well, the program certainly wasn't forgiving, at least not in this city. He sank away, crestfallen, wondering how in the world he was going to get his HP back up. He wasn't about to go back out into the world with a red meter.

It was certainly something he should have accounted for, farming for funds. Money was absolutely integral for survival, especially in a world where resources were scarce. Though it was only data, Alkor had no way of simply generating a fat pocketbook. So, he decided to try finding an alternative means of healing himself.

"Oh!" He recalled the starter package with food he had saved to his inventory. He sat himself down against a wall, scrolled into the menu, and he called up one of the foodstuffs he had available. It shimmered to life in his hands, and he felt his mouth dribble with desire for the delicious looking... smelling...

Good god, it felt so real. Despite knowing it was simulated, every receptor in his mind was lighting up like a Christmas tree. His mind was screaming at him to eat. Alkor lifted the food to his lips, took a bite, and... "Woooah!!!" He called out, a piece of the food falling from his mouth to scatter into flakes of data on the ground. "It tastes... so... good..."

Alkor finished the food off, and he looked up at his health bar. It slowly flickered into the yellow, and then the green.

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HP: 5/5

He made a victorious fist, and stood himself back up. Time to do it all over again...

[Guest]

His feet slid nimbly to shoulder width apart, and he released all of his tension in a long, soothing breath. He had it down to a science, the process of clearing his mind of strife before starting. The first encounter he'd had with a boar had ended blearily, with his HP meter dwindling, staggering in the red. It was not his plan to come that close again.

This time, the boar reared up and charged without a warning. Alkor drew his blade upward into a mid level guard, taking another cleansing breath before propelling himself forcefully forward. His footfalls sang a staccato song that blurred his thoughts, robbing him of sense as he moved to meet his enemy once more.

All I am, came the only words through his mind, and all I may ever be again. A swordsman.

The time had come to embrace it.

[Guest]

The boar staggered and fell forward, nursing the leg Alkor had wounded with his vicious stroke. The next few seconds were a short lived fanfare of victory as Alkor twisted about and callously flicked the non-existent blood from his weapon. A smirk of satisfaction displayed itself proudly on his hairless face, and he ran his hand thoughtfully along the blade.

As the boar rose, he let the weapon drop to his side. A slow, steady stride took him toward his wounded enemy. Looks like it does get easier, he told himself, confident in each step he took. The tusks rampaged toward him once more, and Alkor brought his sword up in a swift, furious motion.

This time, he was intent on ending it decisively. In this world, he thought, I have nothing to prove to anyone but myself. While he wanted to go back, Alkor knew, he needed to fully enjoy the experience while it lasted. There was no way, after all, he was going to make it to the end feeling sorry for himself.

Wildly, the boar veered in to strike, and the swordsman in training twisted to meet it.

[Guest]

"Waaagh..." Alkor felt the familiar scratch of red across his data built body, and he watched the HP meter tick down. He stared at the offending creature with a defiant look, and he wasted no time in regrouping. "You're not gonna get the best of me," he hissed, and he brought the blade round.

With one hand moving over the simple blade, Alkor rushed forward as the boar turned to face him, and it brought its tusks toward him in a warding motion. He saw this, but made no motion to evade. Instead, he focused on the movement, committing to it with all of his thought and effort.

[Guest]

His weapon tore through ruthlessly through his adversary and sent flashing fragments scattering to the wind. He stood slowly and relaxed, his body easing into a comfortable stance. He slid his weapon into its scabbard with one hand and wiped his brow with the other.

Congratulations!

He looked up at the notice and blinked. "Level Up," he read aloud, and the improvements to his character scrolled across in front of him. Alkor noticed his HP restored, and that he had gained a few points on top of that.

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HP: 7/7

He smirked and ran a hand through his hair, uncertain of how to properly celebrate the occasion. "Maybe, once I get some Col, I'll get myself something tasty... yeah..." At that, the young swordsman heartily chuckled. It had been a difficult, rocky road from start to just the second level, but he'd finally made it.

One down, who knows how many more to go...

[Guest]

"One," he said quickly as his blade sliced through air with focused precision. "Two." His weapon cut through the air in the opposite direction, a cross pattern. "Three..." He had resolved to start practicing on his own after the second encounter, intent on raising his level as fast as possible. He knew only experience could do that, however, he needed to get better with his weaponry.

Not far from where he was, a group of boar grazed lazily in the field, and the night had swallowed the first floor sky in a smattering of beautiful stars. He had heard from compiled information from Beta Testers that the views only got more enchanting as one rose through the floors, but Alkor focused himself on the present. He was on the first floor, and he needed to keep his feet firmly planted in realistic goals.

"So many players are already so far ahead," he said to himself, "but they didn't get that far being reckless. Those people..." he grimaced. No, he told himself. Can't get drawn into those thoughts. He glanced toward another lone boar, and he closed his eyes. "If I want to make it to the top, I have to do it one realistic goal at a time. Level 3 next..."

The boar looked up from feeding, seemingly disinterested. He took a few steps toward it, blade at his side. The boar turned. Alkor readied his weapon at his side, blade glowing a gentle shade of red, and the system did the rest. Alkor jetted forward at a quick pace. The boar squealed.

[Guest]

"Heh," he snorted, blade slicing easily across the boar's flesh. He turned on his heel, torquing his blade toward the mob to combine the two attacks seamlessly into one. Every battle, he was discovering more and more how simple it was to get better with his own style. It was almost like he was back in the old days of Japan, working hard every day to create his own unique sword art. There were brilliantly crafted aspects to this game, he admitted, and some of them grew on you if you spent enough time on them.

At first, the weak creature staggered, but it turned to meet him head on, despite the damage it had already taken. While he was still not entirely strong, Alkor's confidence had gotten a considerable boost just fighting with these enemies. It was a good place to start.

His blade whirled through digitally created wind as though it were truly live steel, and he felt a burst of pride and accomplishment rip through his entire being. This was the sort of thing he lived for. These were the feelings that made him truly alive.

[Guest]

"K... kisama..." he cursed quietly in Japanese, a habit he'd picked up in the Military School that he had studied at in the real world. He lived on Base, so it was usually pretty American, but there were things he'd gotten to see from locals. It wasn't entirely a world away from everyone else. It was his Japanese friends- friend, really, because he only had one- who had gotten him interested in Sword Art Online. He wondered now if that boy were here, too, stuck in the Death Game. He wondered if he had been here, and he had not made it out alive.

The instant his strike missed and the tusks skewered him, Alkor drove his blade forward, toward the beast's forehead and between its eyes. He felt nothing toward the creature now, less interested in anger than in being rid of the creature. It was between him and his goal.

[Guest]

Clumsily, his strike sailed over the mob, missing it completely. He felt the impact, but the damage was once more soaked by the NerveGear. Maybe that's why it was so easy to lose track, if you weren't paying attention. It wasn't like the real world, where you knew when you got hurt. If you weren't watching your HP bar, it could drop to zero without you ever realizing it. And then, would you really be dead?

So far, he had no reason to believe it were true one way or the other. Alkor had no desire to find out, however.

HP: 5/7

He took a few steps back, to compose himself, and to rethink his strategy. So far, the concept of "hit fast, hit hard" seemed to not be working very well for him. At least he was experimenting now, with these easy boars, rather than finding out at the worst possible moment. Against a boss, one misstep could be a critical error.

Alkor braced himself, and he brought his blade up with a long, deep breath. Several heartbeats later, he drew on a sword skill, and his blade glittered that malign red hue. In an instant, he was on the boar once more.

[Guest]

The blade missed the boar, though by what margin Alkor would never claim to know. The familiar impact shook him, and he snorted as he brought the blade thundering down toward the mob. It was the sort of situation where he felt something between rage and determination, a fog of frustration. The HP bar blinked yellow, now.

HP: 4/7

His nemesis shook off the attack that had whittled away another point of the Player Character's HP, and it came in for a third helping. Alkor could do nothing but oblige, his blade already on what he thought would be a collision course.

[Guest]

The boar rebuffed his strike, much closer this time than before. To his chagrin, however, Alkor had failed to strike true. His HP dropped another point, though the bar remained in the yellow. For now.

HP: 3/7

He gave a loud roar of frustration, and he drove himself forward again. Alkor wasn't about to give up, not even so close to losing all of his HP. He could be left with one, now, and he was sure he'd keep going. "Is that it?" He mockingly asked the boar, who stared through him as though he didn't exist.

It was almost like he got a thrill from being in this situation, from staring death in the face and trash talking it. Though he knew it was by far not an efficient means of getting anything done, it served to help him save face, though there was no one else around. He doubted if he'd be this vocal if someone else were. Alkor had never been good with other people growing up, and became something of a shut in as time had gone on.

This battle thing had become a means of getting out of his shell. Now, in a world where he was trapped and essentially himself, that facade was gone. He was just himself, with a sword and an impressively more interesting skillset. When the boar came at him again, Alkor lifted his blade, and he brought it above head level.

Then, he brought it crashing down toward the mob, charging right at him.

[Guest]

Congratulations!

As the boar drove into him, Alkor watched in muted shock as his Level Up flashed in front of him. His HP bar raised to max, then dropped a point as he took the damage from being hit.

HP: 8/9

He brought the blade clean across, toward the boar, and grunted his disdain for the creature. He wasn't going to let himself be torn down by something so insignificant. Words were lost on these creatures, he was slowly learning, but his sword spoke in a way that was universally understood.

In a world where strength wrote volumes about everyone, Alkor felt like he lacked what it took to be considered by anyone. The boar cooked it's head back and struck toward him again, this time intent on goring him in the gut.

[Guest]

Both his feet dug into the dirt as he slid backward, two dots of red flickering on his torso. The boar fell back and picked at the ground with its hoof, taunting him with its piggish features and snorting brazenly at his disposition. He took a deep breath, then exhaled, and ran a hand thoughtfully down the length of his weapon.

HP: 7/9

Alkor fell into a crouched stance this time, staring down the edge of his blade toward the boar. The weapon shimmered again as he activated the skill, focusing on the mob. He sucked another breath in through his teeth, then plowed forward vehemently. He plunged the weapon forward toward the boar, and he felt his throat drying up room the hellish howl echoing from it.