Fractured

~5098 words

Ayanokouji Kiyotaka

"This concludes the tutorial phase of Sword Art Online. I wish you the best of luck, dear players."

The cloaked figure's words echoed throughout the central plaza, leaving everyone in a stunned silence. He ascended into the sky, his robes melting into the system warnings that encompassed the area.

The giant sphere of warning signs disappeared as abruptly as it came, ending with a ping sound. After a few moments of the eerie atmosphere, the evening sky took over again.

A gust of wind ran through the crowd, while the shouting of NPC vendors played from afar, bringing life back to my ears. Finally, the game's world had resumed, yet we all knew something had shifted in its rules.

Still, not a single voice dared to disturb the silence. At least, for a few, unsettling moments.

"This can't be happening... This is a prank, right?"

A single, trembling voice cut through the silence like a knife. Like a match flickering in the dark, his words were loud and clear in comparison to the oppressive stillness.

Naturally, after one remark came another. Then, a few more followed. The realization began to take root, spreading like a chain reaction.

"Come on, let me out! This isn't funny!"

That shout seemed to rip the final barrier away. The next instant, voices broke out all at once—fearful, confused, furious.

"Screw you! Let me outta here!"

"Let me leave, let me leave!"

"No! No! No!"

Some players shook their heads in disbelief, others broke down, covering their faces with trembling hands. An indignant shout erupted nearby, followed by a desperate plea just a few steps away. Players turned to their friends, grabbing shoulders, shaking heads. Hands flew to screens, tapping desperately against the menus in futile attempts to summon the missing logout button.

In the span of just several minutes, we'd been turned from players into prisoners. We were trapped.

Trapped...hmm?

Makes you wonder, am I actually trapped?

Because in this specific scenario, me being "trapped" is a curious paradox. Because my actual reality has been in a controlled experiment. Devoid of uncertainty. Devoid of personal choices.

And while this world—despite being a closely replicated simulcram of the real world—is presented as an imprisonment, it still introduces an element of agency that has been previously devoid of my life.

The question arises: what constitutes true freedom? Is it the absence of limitations, or the conscious acceptance of them? Wouldn't that mean that perhaps freedom is not an absolute state, but a relative one. To be "trapped" within a game is to be freed from the constraints of a predetermined existence.

It made you ponder that the concept of freedom may be intrinsically linked to perception. Whether in a simulated world or a physical one, limitations are inherent to existence.

It was just a matter of what squeezed the windpipe more. In other words, choosing the lesser evil.

The screen blipped in front of me and the free gift that was talked about popped in front of my face.

I extended my hand forward and a mirror appeared between my fingers.

Hmm?

Twirling it around, I examined it slowly.

There was no information about it. The pair of blue eyes that looked as clear as the sky were unblinking as I took in my features. Long, disheveled blonde hair that reached until my nape and two sapphire eyes with slit pupils.

Somehow looking at it invoked a sense of familiarity in me. Not something you'd observe while carrying daily, day to day chores, but rather something...personal.

As I stared at my own reflection, a sudden blue light enveloped me, obstructing my vision. I was bracing myself to be teleported again... but instead, the light faded away, still revealing the same environment I was standing in before.

However, when I raised my mirror once again, I saw brown hair that cascaded down both sides of my face, and golden, deadbeat eyes. This looked nothing like the blonde character I'd chosen to play as. The face I saw in the mirror...

...was none other than the real-life face of the person I'd been trying to escape.

It was then I realized what the 'calibration' process was for. Not only had it analyzed my face, but by touching my body in different spots, the Nerve Gear was able to analyze my body type as well, creating a perfect polygonal replica of it inside the game.

Once again, I observed the throng of players surrounding me. Not only did everyone's appearances look more plain and less fantasy-like, I noticed that the average height of the crowd had shrunk considerably—I supposed the majority had given themselves an extra six inches of height, if not, more.

Our in-game avatars—the ideal selves people hoped to project to others—were now gone. The game forced everyone to wear their true identities, right here in front of thousands of strangers.

It was clear what Kayaba was saying to everyone. We weren't playing the game to escape anything, nor were we playing the game to live out dreams of heroism or adventure.

This fractured present...was the new reality.

Still, it felt oddly liberating. I was no longer trapped by anyone's expectations or scrutiny. For once, the decisions were mine alone—free from oversight or hidden agendas. Of course, Kayaba had made it clear that there were still rules. But even his attempt to trap us in here had a peculiar sense of freedom to it.

"Blonde hair and blue eyes. How distasteful." A rather feminine voice mocked from my side before giving her raven black hair a twirl and her crimson eyes a roll.

I do not remember offending her. And should she really be criticizing me when she had an avatar of a tall boy with spectacles. Oh well... I think this is what free will is supposed to sound, or look like.

Now, what to do...

Amidst the chaos, a pair of voices nearby drew my attention. They were quieter and more composed. And on top of that, their discussion seemed to have a purpose—a rare thing in this crowd right now. I edged closer to hear them.

"Let's leave this city right now. I know a village nearby. The monsters are low-level around there, so we should be fine as long as we stay on the path," one of them said.

Though fear was everywhere, a small group had already begun to form around him, possibly drawn to his composure and sense of direction. They didn't seem to be friends or allies—they were just players who instinctively understood that survival would require teamwork.

It was a rational approach—using this opportunity to head to a village first and gather resources. I supposed he understood that this so-called "game" would quickly devolve into a struggle for resources.

At first, the in-game shops and vendors might seem like an endless source of food and items. But when resources are finite and thousands of people are vying for survival, even a rich environment becomes strained. It wouldn't take long for the most obvious hunting spots and resource points around the starting town to be picked clean. Players would flood them day after day, and the supply would eventually choke off.

By that point, those who hadn't left the town would be trapped in an overcrowded, resource-poor area, surrounded by people as desperate as they were. Panic would set in. People would turn on each other. Anyone who waited too long to act would eventually come to regret it.

I changed direction and headed back toward the marketplace. While scattered cries and worried discussions ran across the crowd, the vendors continued to peddle their wares, almost oblivious to the panic surrounding them. It was an interesting contrast—these NPCs were operating as though nothing had changed.

I approached one of them—a woman selling fruits and vegetables. Her produce was spread across a wooden stall in neat, colorful rows.

She glanced up with a practiced smile as I approached. "Welcome! Fresh fruits and vegetables, picked just this morning! Take a look!"

I picked up a shiny red apple, turning it in my hand. "I'm looking for the nearest village. Could you tell me which direction to head in?"

Her smile widened as she processed the question, then nodded. "Of course, sir! If you follow the path north from here, you'll reach Horunka Village. It's a small place, but the villagers are friendly."

It sounded straightforward enough. I placed the apple back on the stall and nodded. "Thanks for the information. That's all I wanted."

So I was to head North. I'd overheard some players discussing a village to the east, but this sounded more promising. Since NPCs were bound to a programmed routine, I supposed they rarely gave misleading directions, and the vendor's guidance was simple enough to follow.

Before heading out, though, I stopped by another stall selling basic potions. I picked out a few healing vials—standard, low-grade ones that wouldn't do much if I ended up in serious trouble but could keep me going in a pinch.

As I made my way to the gate, I saw that small groups of players had already started moving out of the plaza. The player who had been rallying people earlier was among them, leading a small team.

I pushed through the gate, stepping out onto the path that would lead me toward Horunka. The evening sun cast long shadows along the dirt road, and the rolling hills stretched out before me.

As I walked, I mentally ran through my objectives. Horunka would likely have basic gear, weapons, and perhaps information from other players who had arrived ahead of me. I needed to use this opportunity to set up a base there, gauge the game's mechanics, and look for more ways to get stronger.

***

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silver light across the fields as I finally arrived at Horunka Village. Small huts were clustered together, crowned with thatched roofs. Only a few dimly lit windows flickered with candlelight.

The walk here hadn't been entirely uneventful. I encountered a few wild boars and some wolves—creatures whose names and levels had popped up above them as I passed. Apart from being able to grow my stats, I'd been able to obtain some items that I could sell for Col.

As I moved through the village's narrow streets, I became aware of another presence. It appeared that she had an unusually high agility stat given how comfortably she was able to jump between rooftops.

She was a nimble-looking player wearing a full-body cloth. Behind that hood, I saw faint golden-brown strands of hair. On her face, she had brown eyes coupled with whiskers on her cheeks, which looked to be cosmetic items.

"Oh, heya!" She greeted me, hopping down from the rooftop. "Ya look a little lost...or not. So, tell me; you're a beta tester, yah?"

A beta tester? I thought. This game must have had a beta launch, accessible only to a select group of players. That explained why some, like Kirito, seemed so familiar with the world, even though the game was brand new. They certainly held an advantage over normal players. If they wanted, they could monopolize the game's resources, leaving little for those who were clueless.

"No, I'm not a beta tester," I answered plainly.

She tilted her head, giving me a skeptical look. "Oh, that so? Then you're either incredibly brave or a little... strange."

I raised an eyebrow, signaling for her to continue.

"C'mon, don't play coy. You're a new player in a death game. Most people are too afraid to leave the town. And what's the first thing you do? Head straight out of the safe zone and take a nice, long hike through monster territory. Even arriving at Horunka village of all places."

Her words weren't judgmental, it was more of a pointed observation. Still, the curiosity behind her tone was clear.

"Waiting around in the Town of Beginnings didn't seem productive. That's all," I said.

"Spoken like a true beta tester, even if you're not one. People who know their way around here are starting to call players like you 'front-liners.' Ya know, the ones bold enough to test the waters and venture out."

"Interesting," I remarked. "Also, you said something about this village earlier. What's so special about it?"

"So... you don't know about the secret quest?"

Her choice of words piqued my interest. "No," I answered honestly. "I don't."

So quests existed in this game which rewarded the player. It was a convenient design choice that favored variation. Although it was clear quests could hand out items, I wondered if rewards also included Col and experience points, or maybe even general information about the game.

Her grin widened. "Thought so. Most players who wandered this way wouldn't have a clue either, but ya seem the curious type."

I watched her carefully, sensing there was more to this than she was letting on. "So you're not going to tell me for free."

"Nee-hee! Smart!" She laughed, crossing her arms. "I don't usually give this out, but since you interest me, I'll make an exception... but it'll cost ya. Say, 1000 Col?"

A thousand Col. My hand reflexively drifted to my menu and I checked my remaining currency. It wasn't much, but I'd be giving up nearly all of my funds in exchange for information that could be either immensely helpful or completely worthless.

"Hey, I get it, newbie. A thousand Col ain't pocket change. But it's worth every coin. You'll get something you won't get anywhere else. Think of it as an investment, yah?"

I studied her expression, trying to pick out any trace of deception. If she was charging a considerable price, there was a reason for it. And even if I was scammed out of it, I could easily recover that much Col after an hour of farming, or maybe even doing other quests.

After a long pause, I nodded and handed over the money.

She grinned broadly, storing the coins into her inventory before leaning in close again. "Alright then, I'll tell you. It's called the «Medicine of the Forest». It gives you a weapon called the «Anneal Blade»."

I nodded, listening intently as she continued.

"This sword is way stronger than anything you'd get at the start. It'll even last you a few floors, ya hear? You can even upgrade it further if you manage to gather the right materials and meet a blacksmith."

The weapon-strengthening system in Sword Art Online was quite straightforward. Each sword held five parameters: Sharpness, Quickness, Accuracy, Heaviness, and Durability. However, the process of upgrading them always required crafting materials that you'd have to go and find for yourself.

She glanced around, making sure no one else was listening. "Go to the missus' house in the village. She'll tell you about the medicine she needs, which you can only get from a rare plant deep in the forest. You'll have to take out some mobs to get there, but nothing too dangerous if you're careful. Bring the plant back to her, and she'll reward you with the «Anneal Blade» as thanks."

I considered her explanation carefully. A weapon like that would be a significant advantage—enough to make my journey through these lower levels much easier and perhaps even allow me to take on tougher opponents as I went.

"See? Worth it, right? That blade will serve ya well. Think of it as a head start."

"Thank you," I said.

"No problem," she replied with sly smile. "Just remember who gave you the tip, yah? Name's Argo."

Just as Argo turned to leave, I decided to test something. If she was willing to sell me information about secret quests, maybe she could offer more sensitive information, too.

"Wait, Argo," I called, causing her to pause mid-step. "What else can I buy from you?"

"Hmm, depends on what you're asking. Information isn't exactly one-size-fits-all, ya know."

"So if I asked you to sell me a list of players with prior knowledge of this world, would you do it?"

Argo's face darkened for a moment before her usual sly expression returned. "Ah, you're a sharp one, aren't ya? But if you're fishing for a list of beta testers, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed."

"Hm, is that so?"

"Listen, I sell a lot of things—quests, map details, enemy weaknesses, hidden mechanics—but I don't sell names. Especially not the names of beta testers. Not now, not ever. You'd be surprised how fast people turn when they think someone else has an advantage in here."

I supposed she had thought through her answer long before I'd asked. The reason was very simple:

"Because they'd be targeted," I stated, half to confirm, half as an observation.

"Yep, bingo." Argo's voice softened just slightly. "Ya think it's bad now, with people panicking? Just wait 'till they realize there are players with an edge over 'em. There are already rumors flying around about beta testers being 'the lucky ones.' The last thing we need is a target list floating around."

Although it made sense, it was surprising to hear her speak so candidly. A player that hated someone else in a normal game could complain and move on. However, that same type of resentment could turn into something dangerous in this world—where the fear of death was real.

"Oh well," I replied. "I assumed you'd sell any information for the right price."

"I'm an informant, not a merchant of chaos, yah? I might sell people the tools they need, but I'm not in the business of sparking witch hunts." She tilted her head, scrutinizing me with an unreadable look.

"Good to know," I said.

She smirked, amused. "Hurry up and get that quest done, alright? It has a 24-hour cooldown, so you'll end up in a long queue if you wait too long."

With that, she turned and headed back toward the village center, disappearing into the shadows.

After leaving Argo, I made my way to the residential area on the outskirts of Horunka. A handful of small, modest houses lined the road, and for a few hundred Col, I was able to buy a basic room from one of the NPCs who managed the property. The room wasn't much—just a small cot, a table, and a worn-out wardrobe—but it was enough for one night's rest.

***

The next day, I woke up early, grabbing a piece of bread from my inventory before heading out.

I never particularly enjoyed eating the food I was given back in the White Room, but the strange feeling of eating in this world was hard to describe. Not a single grain of sugar, salt, or nutrient reached my real body. I supposed my stomach never felt truly satisfied because I was fully aware that I was in a virtual world. Meaning, anything I ate was just a couple of polygons.

Anyway, after some wandering around the village, I found the missus' house tucked away in a quiet corner.

I stepped up to the wooden door and knocked. After a few moments, it finally opened, revealing a woman who looked to be in her mid-forties wearing a gentle but slightly weary expression. Her dark brown hair was tied back, and she wore a woven apron with small pockets filled with leaves and herbs.

"Oh, hello there," she said softly. "Please, come in."

I stepped inside the modest home. The woman led me over to a small table, where she poured a cup of water and handed it to me. As I took it with a nod, I noticed how her hands trembled slightly as she held the jug.

"Thank you," I said, taking a sip.

She gave a weary sigh, glancing toward the corner of the room. "I'd offer you some food as well, but... I'm afraid we're a bit short on supplies right now."

I didn't reply immediately. Over her shoulder, I noticed a pot simmering gently on the stove, releasing the faint aroma of herbs into the air. Nearby, from behind a curtain separating the small home's two rooms, came the faint sound of a child coughing.

I pointed at the pot. "What's cooking there, then?" I asked.

"Ah... it's a mixture of herbs. I've been trying to make medicine for my daughter." She paused, her shoulders drooping. "She's been sick for a while now... It's a terrible illness. Nothing from the market has been able to cure it."

I nodded, looking thoughtfully at the pot. I could already see where this was going.

"There's an ingredient I need," she began, glancing briefly over at her daughter's shadowed form behind the curtain. "It comes from a plant—a rare, carnivorous species that grows only in the forest to the west. The few I've heard of are called Little Nepenthes."

In the real world, Nepenthes are a genus of carnivorous plants, also known as tropical pitcher plants. Using sugary nectar and sweet scents, they attract their prey which consist of arthropods like ants and other insects. So I supposed the monsters in this game were based off of those.

She paused for a moment. "It's no ordinary plant; it has a flower that blooms right atop its... mouth. And it's dangerous. I've seen travelers return from that forest injured, or worse."

She probably had no choice but to wait for someone to come by to help her. It was clear she'd never have been able to go herself, even if she had wanted to.

"They bloom rarely, and when they do, they're fierce. I've been hoping someone would pass through the village who could help, but it's... well, you can see it's a tall order. If you could somehow retrieve an ovule from one of these plants, though... it would save my daughter. And I'd gladly give you something in return."

I waited, allowing her the space to finish.

"My family has an old sword... it's not much, but it was handed down to me. If you're willing to help, it's yours."

I considered her words carefully. Despite being an NPC, she looked at me with something close to genuine desperation. I wondered if this was how mothers acted in the real world as well.

"Alright, I'll do it for you."

As soon as those words escaped my lips, a new panel appeared right in front of me, obstructing my vision. A metallic text read: "New Quest Received," followed by the info: I needed to kill a «Little Nepenthes» with a flower to obtain an «Ovule», which I then needed to return to this woman.

The woman sighed with relief as she placed a hand over her chest. "Thank you... thank you so much. I'll be waiting."

With a nod, I stood up and left the house, making my way through the quiet village and headed west. The path grew narrower and wilder, and the undergrowth turned thicker and more tangled.

Soon enough, trees began to cluster around me—I'd finally arrived at the forest. The air here was damp and thick. Shafts of light broke through the canopy, illuminating patches of ground where thick roots coiled like serpents.

As I ventured deeper, several green health bars materialized in my field of view. There were several monsters nearby, given how the cursors were red—meaning, hostile.

Scanning the crowd of monsters in the forest, one of them caught my eye—a Little Nepenthes with a peculiar bulbous fruit on top of its head. A faint growl came from its open maw, signifying that it had noticed my presence.

[Sword Skill - Horizontal Square]

I charged a skill on my sword and dashed forward, slashing at the point where its stalk met the pitcher. My blade connected as the monster let out a hissing screech before collapsing. The fruit on its head fell loose before it rolled into the bushes.

"Hmm, so they don't drop anything. What does the fruit mean, then?" I asked myself.

Suddenly, several other Little Nepentheses began to surround my peripheral vision—too much to even count.

So, that's how it works, I thought. Killing one with the fruit attracted the others, like a signal for backup. Most players would have tried to avoid this situation entirely, but it presented a unique opportunity.

If I kept targeting these fruit-bearing ones, I could draw out even more of them. It was a high risk, high reward hunt—but it would boost my chances of encountering one with a flower.

Taking a few steps back, I positioned myself strategically. I took mental notes of open paths for retreat, and targeted the group of Nepenthes nearest to me.

The first attack of a Little Nepenthes was a swipe of its vine leaves—dagger-like appendages that cut through the air with surprising speed. Each swipe left a gap that offered a brief opening to strike. But if I simply sidestepped, its follow-through left it open to counterattacks.

Its second attack was more aggressive—a lunge where it thrust its vine forward in a direct stab. However, this attack seemed to take longer for the monster to recover from, exposing its pitcher for a longer window. I could strike at the vulnerable spot where the stalk met the base of the pitcher, cutting through its health swiftly. Even a light attack here was effective.

My EXP bar rose drastically as I made quick work of the five that surrounded me. I'd lost quite a bit of HP, but I had already gotten used to their rhythm. It turned into nothing more than a little exercise in pattern recognition.

However, the third attack of a Little Nepenthes was its most problematic: a corrosive spray that shot out in a mist from its bloated pitcher. I took special care to observe its pre-motion—the monster's entire body would puff up briefly just before it expelled the spray.

The blast covered up to about five meters, which was enough range to be dangerous, but I noted it was limited to a narrow, thirty-degree cone. As soon as I saw one of them puff up, I immediately sprang to the side, landing just outside its spray range.

"Hmm?"

After what felt like an endless series of battles, I finally spotted it—a Little Nepenthes with a rare, vibrant flower blooming from its head. Its petals were a deep crimson, curling slightly as if to mock the dozens of decapitated vines that littered the forest floor around me.

I moved forward, keeping my blade angled low. Just as expected, it launched into its familiar sequence: a swipe of its vine, then a lunge.

As soon as I saw the pitcher swell, I charged another sword skill before it could release its acid spray. Letting the system take control of my movement, I drove my blade clean through the stalk. After that, a burst of pixels exploded as its health dropped to zero. The monster crumpled, and the crimson flower collapsed alongside it.

A notification popped up in my view, accompanied by a faint yet distinct chime:

[Quest Item Acquired: Ovule of the Little Nepenthes]

I glanced at the item in my inventory, feeling a rare sense of satisfaction. After a hundred or so encounters, the final creature had finally yielded what I needed.

The hunt hadn't been without its perks, though. I checked my stats and saw that my level had climbed significantly—from level 3 to 8. With this newfound boost, I hummed to myself, considering my options.

After a moment's thought, I invested my points evenly, increasing both strength and agility. It gave me the flexibility to fight with both speed and power. Specializing in one area would have its advantages, but a balanced build might prove more adaptable in the long run.

With the quest item in hand, I took one last look around the forest before heading back to the village. It was time to complete this mission and claim the promised reward.

***

By the time I returned to the woman's house, the sun was already dipping low, emitting dappled light across the village. I knocked on the door, and she answered almost instantly, as though she'd been waiting by it since I left. Her expression softened when I handed her the ovule.

"Thank you so much," she spoke with a smile.

She didn't waste a moment, hurrying to the small simmering pot and carefully adding the rare ingredient. She stirred it gently, and within moments, the medicinal aroma intensified.

The woman immediately turned, lifting the pot and carrying it carefully into the next room. She knelt beside a small bed, where a young girl lay pale and motionless. The woman helped her daughter sit up, gently brushing the hair back from her fevered forehead before tilting a cup of the medicine to her lips.

I stood silently, watching as the mother's hands caressed her child. As the girl drank, her face softened, and her breathing grew more steady.

I found myself unable to look away. It felt like I was watching something I'd never quite had and maybe never would. I couldn't name the small, unplaceable ache in a place I hadn't realized existed.

For a moment, I wondered if this feeling was real—or if the game's designers had programmed something intentionally sentimental.

Finally, the woman turned back to me.

"Thank you," she said again, her voice trembling. "I... I don't know how I could have ever done this without your help."

She rose and walked across the room, retrieving a long, cloth-wrapped object from a corner. She held it out to me with both hands as if passing on something sacred.

"It's not much," she said softly, "but this sword has been with my family for generations. I hope it serves you well—the way it has served us."

I unwrapped the cloth to reveal the «Anneal Blade». Its steel glinted in the dim light, simple yet elegant, with a sturdy grip and an edge that looked honed to perfection. The stats were a marked improvement over my previous weapon—a well-earned reward for the struggle it had taken to get here.

"Thank you. I'll put it to use," I replied. The woman gave me a final nod before turning back to her daughter.

As I stepped out into the late afternoon light, I swiped downward with my finger, storing my newly gained weapon in my inventory. I took one last glance back at the small home, still feeling the faint trace of that strange feeling lingering within me.

It didn't matter, I told myself, shaking off the thought as I walked away.

******************

A/n As promised, the weekly chapter is here. See you all in the next chapter, next week. Join our discord. https://discord.gg/vGjXj8Q97B