A Gamer's Creed - SAO: Fatal Bullet

The Calm Before The Storm

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own such figures or characters and/or products of Ideal that belong to Reki Kawahara, A-1 Pictures, Aniplex, etc., etc. My ownership only pertains to the OC's described such In this story such as Viktor.

Sunday, June 23rd, 2024

Fujimo, Saitama Prefecture, Japan

My awakening, thankfully, this time around was much less eventful; but alas my eyelids remained ever-so-heavy and my mind maintained a constant haze over my senses, my normally lithe figure felt as If It was coated In lead as I brought a pale and calloused hand to rub the drowsiness from my eyes, after a brief moment of respite, I roused myself enough to raise myself and my legs Into a sitting position; a grunt of assent arising from my parched throat, my eyes had then wandered back to my desktop; the monitor shone a low and blue hue of white as It was In It's Idle Sleep Mode and surely enough; my printed cartridge of Gun Gale Online had now been fully synced to my Nerve Gear helm; the ZASKAR Insignia emblazened prominently on-screen; a condensed window held In the top-right corner of the trifecta of monitors had finished Its renders and completed embedding Its various fail-safe protocols.

Ever since I had made my own extensive research Into the various aspects of Gun Gale Online, be It It's gameplay; connectivity of local and abroad servers and the skills and aptitudes of the overall player base of Japan and, of course, the Americans. I knew that as of now that even my obtained Skills and transferable Stats from ALO and various other VR games weren't up to par and suited properly for the run-and-gun play-style that Is GGO; a grim realization no doubt, but I knew I'd die sooner then even finishing the very first day of mob grinding and soloing If I were to leave the Nerve Gear's stock programming and protocols embedded.

'I wouldn't do to go out as a greenhorn this time around, I'll never hear the end of It If Yuri sees me In Other World'

A slight chuckle of mirth-filled humor escaped my chapped lips, dry as they were as I licked them subconsciously; further arising to freshen up and take care of necessities before I dove on Into Gun Gale; my bathroom was much thankfully adjacent to my bedroom as that would excuse my lack of dress If I were step outside.

'Oh, the look mother would give me If she saw me like this . . '

Those thoughts were quickly scrubbed subsequently purged from my mind as I entered Into my room of rest and brushed my teeth and took care of other hygiene, my thoughts remained Idle as they continually wandered to my subsequent preparations for my Full-Dive even as I stepped Into my stand-up shower In the suit I was born with; the scars and trauma worn on my upper and lower back pulsed and ebbed as If my blood still drained from my form; my eye twitched In quick succession due to my nerves running rampant, neurons alight In response to the Incident that bore me this untimely physical trauma.

"Only 11 years huh? Damnedest Insurgents . ." I croaked aloud as my voice wavered even as the water, warm as It was, rained and pooled over my platinum-blonde hair; It's normally unruly and spiky stature now matted down and flowed downwards with free felling water around my form, certain odd locks of my hair had long since grayed and faded to a shade of metallic silver, It's hue lifeless as my one good eye readjusted to the steam and heat of the water, burning yet ever so soothing. My thoughts were Interrupted by a curt rapping on my bedroom door, my head whipping to the side quickly

'Mother'

"Moy syn? Vy yeshche prosnulis'? Vas zavtrak gotov!" Was heard In our native tongue: Russian; her accent much evident In her voice, overbearing as It was, that seemingly commanded your upmost attention and respect dutifully; her Imposing figure can almost be made out even from mere vocals alone