Memories of SAO

Memories of Those Lost

"Hey, Jaymes. I got a favor to ask... Until now, you've been supporting us with the boss hunt. If...I don't return...I want you to continue on fighting... Kirito, Jaymes, I leave the rest to you..."

Those were the final words Diavel, the leader and symbol of the Assault Team, spoke to me before he sacrificed himself in battle against Fucus the Vacant Colossus. That battle happened just a couple of minutes ago as as ragtag group of twenty-two players raced to the fifth floor's labyrinth on New Year's Eve, all to prevent the Aincrad Liberation Squad from taking possession of the Guild Flag of Valor.

At the end of the day, we won, the fifth floor was cleared, and Kirito maintains possession of the Guild Flag until a time comes for him to use it. I have no clue as to what proceeded after that, or what we're to do now. For one, I'm the only person remaining in Fucus' chamber, the other raiders heading on up the staircase to the sixth floor and my party on the level below the boss chamber.

I just can't bring myself to leave just yet, so I sit cross-legged in the center of the chamber, eyes on the spot where Diavel and a mob of golems fell through a trapdoor. I saved Diavel's life once before, convinced him to join us on this daring attack on the floor boss, and now he's more than likely dead. As someone who prioritizes one girl's life over the thousands of others, myself included, I cannot help but be filled with guilt that someone like DIavel died, indirectly, because of me.

"Not ready to leave yet?" Raising my head and looking over my shoulder, I eye Kirito, Koharu, Asuna, and Mito, all coming back from the lower level. I shake my head as my friends come around and sit with me.

"Any moment now, both ALS and DKB will not only know the fate of the Guild Flag, but of Diavel," Asuna notes.

"It'll probably be easier to talk about what happened to Diavel with us around," Koharu says.

Mito nods. "The others agreed to release the news of Diavel to Lind tonight but publicly tomorrow to not put a damper on tonight's festivities. Either that, or dedicate the party in his honor. We'll see what happens with Kibaou first."

"...Thanks, guys," I softly whisper. "I hope Kibaou doesn't get riled up that we undercut him, but it had to be done. Diavel said it's for the best neither guild holds the flag if it means they work together... I just hope that damn cactus understands."

Diavel sacrificed himself not just for our sake, but for the sake of Kibaou and the ALS, for Lind and the DKB, and for all players still alive in SAO. He brought us together initially to provide hope, lead us against Illfang to show the world that hope, and gave his life to keep that hope burning. His last words weren't a wish for his life, but a wish for me to keep moving forward.

With a sigh a couple of minutes later after hearing about three sets of footsteps ascend the stairs to Fucus' former chamber, I put those words of Diavel in my heart. I have no faith that he's alive, I'm not that foolish...but as I get on my feet to greet the ALS scouts, I know that knight will live on in my heart forever.

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It was three in the morning on Christmas Day when the weirdest thing happened.

After defeating Nicholas the Regenade and giving the useless Sacred Stone of Rebirth to Klein, Kirito found himself back in his inn room on the forty-ninth floor. His desire for a ressurection item was real, but it can only be used up to ten seconds after someone falls in battle, making it impossible for him to use it for the girl he wished to revive, Sachi. The last month, he made a fool of himself, ending with him burning the last friendship he had with Klein.

Now he was truly alone.

Sitting at the desk the room provides, moonlight streaming from the glass window, Kirito makes up his mind to go on a deadly boss rush. He'll head to the forty-ninth's floor's boss later in the morning, then challenge each labyrinth's boss one after another. He won't search for the boss quests, he won't wait on the Assault Team, he'll do it himself to put an end to the pitiful life he's recently lived.