A crimson warning spread across the sky like spilled blood. Lines of text filled the air, a system message larger than any player had ever seen before.
[WARNING]
The chatter in the plaza fell into murmurs. Then silence.
Mikoto's hand hovered at his side, fingers brushing the hilt of his beginner's sword. He didn't draw it—what good would it do?—but the instinct was there. His eyes scanned the players around him instead: some confused, some laughing nervously, some already panicking. A few tried to open their menus again, desperately swiping as though the logout button would magically appear.
It's not there. It was never a bug, Mikoto thought grimly.
The sky warped. Blood-red panels melted into a single, colossal figure: robed, faceless, its form stretching across the heavens.
"Attention, players," the voice boomed. Calm. Clinical. Utterly devoid of human warmth.
Mikoto's stomach clenched. He recognized the voice instantly.
"—Kayaba Akihiko," Kirito whispered at his side. His hand tightened on his sword, though his eyes were fixed upward.
Klein blinked between them. "Wait, who the hell is that guy?"
"The creator," Mikoto muttered. "The one who built all this."
Kayaba's words fell like hammers.
The inability to log out was not a glitch.
Attempting to forcibly remove the NerveGear would destroy the brain.
Already, news reports confirmed deaths outside.
The crowd's silence broke into a wave of chaos. Screams, shouts, disbelief. Some players fell to their knees. Others cursed. One even laughed hysterically, insisting it was a prank.
Mikoto didn't move. He only watched. Each reaction mattered—who panicked, who froze, who stayed still.
Kayaba's monologue continued, unrelenting. Sword Art Online was no longer a game. The only way out was to clear all one hundred floors of Aincrad.
"Survive first…" Mikoto whispered under his breath. His chest felt tight, but his voice came steady. "…Lead later."
Kirito's eyes flicked toward him, sharp and assessing. For a brief moment, there was understanding between them.
Then Kayaba revealed the final cruelty: every avatar's appearance shifted. Hair, faces, bodies shimmered and warped until the plaza was filled with not fantasy heroes, but the true faces of the players themselves.
Klein gasped at the sudden weight of his own features returning. "No way…"
Mikoto glanced at his own hands, his reflection in a nearby fountain. His real self stared back, every sharp edge of reality anchored in this false world.
Kayaba's last words echoed.
"This is the end of the tutorial. Welcome to Sword Art Online."
And then the figure was gone.
The crowd fractured. Panic surged like a wave, breaking into hundreds of smaller storms. Some shouted about banding together. Others bolted for the fields, desperate for levels.
Klein was pale, trembling. "Guys… what the hell do we do?"
Mikoto exchanged a look with Kirito. Neither spoke for a moment, but both already knew the answer.
"Level," Kirito said flatly.
"Survive," Mikoto added.
Klein's voice cracked. "Wait, are you guys really gonna… just… leave? We should stick together!"
"You've got friends waiting, right?" Mikoto asked, tilting his head. "The guys you mentioned earlier. Go find them. You'll need people you can trust."
Klein's lips pressed tight. He wanted to argue, but the truth was written all over his face. He had people waiting. Mikoto and Kirito didn't.
A silence settled between them.
Kirito gave a small nod. "Thanks for the hunt earlier. Guess this is goodbye."
Klein forced a crooked smile. "Yeah… guess so. Just don't die, okay?"
Mikoto smirked faintly, though his eyes were steady. "That's the plan."
The three stood in a strange, bittersweet moment before Klein finally turned back toward the town, swallowed up by the shifting crowd.
——
That left only Mikoto and Kirito.
The two regarded each other, a quiet understanding hanging in the air.
"You were a beta tester too," Kirito said finally. Not a question.
Mikoto's lips quirked. "And so were you."
For a second, the tension broke. A smirk from Kirito. A faint chuckle from Mikoto. Two strangers, alike in the most dangerous way.
But they both knew what came next.
"Solo?" Kirito asked.
"Yeah. Easier to move, less to worry about."
Kirito nodded. "Then this is where we split."
Mikoto adjusted the strap on his plain beginner's sword, stepping away from the plaza. "See you at the top, maybe."
"Count on it," Kirito replied, already moving in the opposite direction.
Their paths diverged at the gates of the Town of Beginnings, two silhouettes walking into the unknown.
Mikoto didn't look back. His heartbeat thundered in his chest, but his mind sharpened like steel.
This was no longer a game.
He clenched his fist tight.
I will survive. I will make it home.
And thus began the death game.