Disclaimer: SAO and is subsequent characters are owned to their respected parties. PlainStoryTeller’s fanfiction “A Second Chance” and its subsequent characters belong to him.
I had also created drawing of my two main characters and hosted them on DeviantArt! Here they are!
Bellona:
http://grayjedi-productions.devianta...F15908906&qo=1
Vega:
http://grayjedi-productions.devianta...F15908906&qo=0
(Opening Theme is Endless Tears by Ayane)
1300 Hours – April 8th, 2024 – Aincrad 50th Floor – Vega’s Weapon Laundering
Bellona groaned loudly as she continued to stare at the ceiling. For two days, she had been doing nothing but sleeping and sitting on the couching trying to find ways to entertain herself. Just like on any previous time, the more inactivity she had, the more agitated she became. The black-haired woman raised her hand in the air as she started tracing circles above her head, as the emptiness in her chest continued to widen. It ate away at her head’s thoughts as feelings of the past started to return; things that were better left dead and buried.
But unlike when she was fighting alone, the emptiness had grown at a slower pace. From several minutes to several hours, the feeling in her chest had grinded slowly away at her mental health. Bellona had checked on herself during the times when she needed this emptiness to ebb away.
It was lunchtime and Vega took a break from manning her store in front for a light Japanese curry. Well, the Aincrad equivalent for curry in any case. The mercenary looked over at the coffee table, seeing her own plate barely touched by the other woman’s “hard work” at making it. Again, Bellona continued to groan loudly, turning her body around on the couch.
“Are you alright? You have been like that for the past day…” Vega asked, still eating her curry.
Bellona had buried her face in the couch when she replied. The redhead did not understand her words as she moved closer asking again, “What is wrong?”
Turning around, Bellona stared at Vega saying, “May we go on another hunting quest?”
Vega sighed as she placed her hands on her hips. “Is fighting the only thing that will satisfy you?”
The mercenary simply gave her warden a glare as she threw her head back against the couch’s arm rest.
“Is there anything else to do in this world?” She huffed, closing her eyes.
“Enjoy it perhaps?” Vega said, pulling over another chair she had bought a day ago.
“No.” the black haired girl said, crossing her arms.
“Why not? We have been here for at least two years, and we are nearly three fourths done. It should only take a few more months, maybe even a year and a half to finish this game.”
“I have nothing to say on that matter. The frontline players are all destined to die.”
The shopkeeper’s eyes widened as she looked at the mercenary as she tried to ignore her captor. “That... That’s rather dark of you to say.”
“And?”
“Bu-but… But why?”
“It is simply because of the nature of this world.” Bellona lifted herself off the arm rest as she leaned back into the sofa, her dark eyes piercing at Vega.
“Because it is simply virtual reality?”
“Almost. This world functions on numbers. Limits. Rules that are not really meant for a true reality. In a world where numbers mean everything to a person. Their strength, their virtue, their livelihood.” The woman leaned her head to the side as she used her hand to prompt it up. “Tell me. As a merchant yourself, you must be quite accomplished with these numbers that define yourself. What are you, six hundred? Five hundred?”
Vega looked saddened as Bellona continued, “It matters not. The definitive reality in this is that numbers mean everything. Never believe a person that says that it does not matter, because they themselves are probably powerful enough already.”
“These numbers… are what made people die when this game first started. How can you value a person’s life with numbers, huh? How much willpower can you put into person that will make them persevere and live? Thing is you cannot, which is why this game removed that idea itself. If this was not a death-game, then sure fine. But now, it has been reality for two years. And you know what? We have not changed appearances for those two years. Our bodies continue to be in their two years earlier stage.”
“This world is nothing but a broken mirror image of that world, and yet we are facing problems far worse than what is going outside. Guilds like the ‘Laughing Coffin’, ‘Titan’s Hand’, ‘Wings of Liberty’, they kill not because of material gain. No, they kill because they can and for the euphoria of a game’s villain. They know the consequences of this game, and yet they do it because it is fun to do. And you know what? Who is going to stop them? Take any Aincrad Liberation Force player or someone in the Frontlines and have them faceoff against any member of those guilds and it will be a slaughter because those guilds are fighting people who are less predictable than the AI-controlled monsters. Whether it is the first or the hundred floor of Aincrad: Numbers. Mean. Everything.”
Silence hung between the two players as Vega lifted her head to see Bellona’s eyes. They were burning orange with something dark, an emotion filling with something that she could not correlate.
“Is there someone that you can say this about?”
“I’m quite sure that this name has been floating around since the twenty sixth floor. The Crimson Paladin, The Man of Legend, Heathcliff.”