Alicization Lasting

by Reki Kawahara

  I should have been the one to die. My life there was temporary in the first place. Our roles could have been reversed, and everything would have continued as it was meant to.

  “Aaaah…Aaaaaaaah!!” I screamed and writhed and rolled and reached for the sword that should have been on my back. I was going to press it against my heart or slit my own throat.

  But my fingers found nothing over my shoulder. I groped around, thinking I had dropped it, but the only thing I felt was sticky, clinging black liquid extending forever.

  I grabbed the collar of my black shirt and ripped it with my hands.

  Curled fingers like claws touched the center of my emaciated chest.

  The skin split, and my flesh tore apart, but I felt no pain. With both hands, I ripped into my own chest.

  So that I could expose my heart, pull it out, and crush it.

  This was all I could do for him…The last act of atonement for those I had betrayed and abandoned…

  “Kirito…”

  Someone called my name.

  I stopped moving, looked around with empty eyes.

  Beyond the darkness, there was now a girl with chestnut-brown hair standing alone.

  Her hazel eyes were wet and staring right at me.

  “Kirito…”

  A new voice arrived. To the right, a girl with glasses. Behind the glass lenses, her eyes were glowing with tears, too.

  “Big Brother…”

  Then another:

  Her black bangs were cut straight across. Tears fell from her large eyes.

  The will and emotions of the three girls became light that surged and flowed into me.

  A warmth like a pillar of sunlight healed my wounds and melted away my sadness.

  ……But.

  But…oh, but.

  I could not possibly be worthy of receiving their absolution.

  “I’m sorry,” I heard myself say. “I’m sorry, Asuna. Sorry, Sinon. Sorry, Sugu. I can’t stand anymore. I can’t fight. I’m sorry……”

  And with the heart I’d pulled from my chest in my grasp, I prepared to crush it in one swift, decisive movement.

  “Why…? What’s the matter, Kirito?!”

  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 three Soul Translators housing Asuna Yuuki, Shino Asada, and Suguha Kirigaya were sending a tremendous amount of mnemonic data in an attempt to complement Kazuto 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 Kazuto’s fluctlight activity remained in stasis just below the recovery line.

  “Even this…still isn’t enough……?” Higa groaned.

  Kazuto’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.

  Just one more person.

  If only there was one more person with deep ties to Kazuto who had an accumulation of powerful memories!

  But according to Lieutenant Colonel Seijirou Kikuoka, the three girls currently connected were the three 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.

  “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.

  “……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 Kazuto’s fluctlight-status window, that in addition to the three connected lines indicating the girls in the STLs, there was one 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.

  “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.

  “Objects…objects from memories…,” Higa repeated to himself, thinking on overdrive. “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 Kazuto’s STL.

  “Kirito.”

  Right before I crushed my own heart, a new voice called my name. A voice that was powerful, warm, and enveloping.

  “Kirito.”

  Ever so slowly, I raised my head to see.

  Where endless darkness had been just a moment ago, he now stood on two solid legs.

  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.

  I lifted my hands away from my chest, which was now perfectly whole again, extended them toward him, and stood up.

  I heard myself whisper his name through trembling lips.

  “…Eugeo.”

  Once more.

  “You’re alive, Eugeo.”

  My best friend, and the greatest partner I could ever have, just tinged his gentle smile with sadness and shook his head.

  “This is the memory of me that lives inside you,” he said. “And the fragment of memory I left behind.”

  “Mem…ory…”

  “That’s right. Have you forgotten already? We were so sure of what we declared. Memories,” Eugeo said, opening his right palm and pressing it to his chest, “live here.”

  Like looking in a mirror, I made the exact same action. “Forever in here.”

  As Eugeo grinned happily again, Asuna strode forward to join him. “We are always connected to you through our hearts.”

  Sinon walked forward on Eugeo’s other side and nodded, causing the hair tied at the sides of her head to wave. “No matter how far apart we might be…no matter when the time comes for us to part.”

  Then Suguha hopped forward next to her and said happily, “Memories and feelings are connections that last for eternity. Isn’t that right?”

  Hot, clear liquid burst from my eyes at last. I took a step forward and gazed desperately into the eyes of my eternal friend.

  “Are you sure, Eugeo…? Can I really…move forward again?”

  His answer was swift and unwavering.

  “Yes, you can, Kirito. Many, many people are waiting for you. Come…Let’s go. Together. To wherever this takes us.”

  Two hands reached out from opposite directions and made contact. Then Asuna, Sinon, and Suguha added their own.

  Instantly, the four people turned into waves of pure-white light, flowing into me.

  And then…

  8

  Asuna reached and reached for Kirito—until a red armored boot stomped dow
n 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.

  Asuna 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.

  “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 Asuna. A third and fourth attempt achieved the same result.

  There was no fifth try. Sortiliena raced over to Asuna and used the knock-back skill Torrent to push the red knight backward with the pommel of her greatsword.

  As she helped Asuna up, Sortiliena asked her, with undisguised shock, “Was that…your Incarnate Sword, Asuna?!”

  “Incar…?” Asuna repeated, unfamiliar with this word. She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t me.”

  “Then…perhaps Renly…,” Sortiliena suggested, turning to look. Asuna 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 Asuna.

  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. Asuna 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.

  Asuna 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 Kirito. 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.

  What can we do? What can I do…?

  Asuna 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.

  Is that…the smell of roses…?

  Asuna 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.

  “Oh……”

  And again.

  “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.

  “Kirito…,” called out Asuna, her quavering lips forming the name of the person she loved more than any other.

  “Then that Incarnation…was Kirito’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 Kirito. 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.

  Enhance Armament.

  Asuna heard it inside her head, too. It was Kirito’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.

  Asuna briefly glanced over her shoulder toward the red knight who had tried to save Klein. 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. “Thank you, Liena…I’m fine now.”

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

  Kirito was still facedown on the ground, clutching the broken sword in his left hand. But Asuna 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.

  “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this!! C’mon, Kirito…Let’s dance!!”

  As far as Asuna 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 Kirito but at Asuna and the other two women.

  “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. Asuna 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 Asuna 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.

  Asuna’s head turned automatically to the left.

  Though Kirito’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 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, Asuna was looking at a perfectly whole—if still slightly emaciated—hand and arm. Her eyes followed his arm upward, past his shoulder.