AN: The other two prologues have been moved to SIDESTORY tab for the sake of brevity. Originally chargen was this long complex thing where one of three protagonists was chosen. As the other two lost the vote their intro chapters are moved to SIDESTORY.
<This marks the end of the tutorial and the official launch of Sword Art Online. Players, I wish you the best of luck.>
A figure cloaked in shadow, faceless and without shape or form sentences you. A gamemaster with a face of fog and smoke, uncaring of you or the thousands of other players around you. You are a rat, trapped in a glass cage by the machinations of Kayaba Akihiko. A contract is made: play his game, run through the maze, fight to amuse the god of this world, and by doing so live to see another day.
"You can die here or live with us."
A figure cloaked in a black poncho looks down at you with his cleaver on your neck, surrounded by his crowd of chittering sycophants. He bears the mark of «Laughing Coffin» on his hand as he looks down with disdain at his next victim. You are a rat— trapped in this maze, only your warden is a rat himself, who has grown mad in his captivity. It's the same offer, the same threat, the same contract: play their game, join «Laughing Coffin», amuse the mad rat, and by doing so live to see another day.
"Tracking you down was hard work! But ya not nearly sneaky 'nough, gopher-chan."
A figure cloaked in shadow has you pinned to a wall, a weapon pressed into your chest. She's triumphant, gleeful even, the face of a player satisfied at a job well down. You recognize the expression, you've seen it time and time again on the faces of your 'colleagues'. The raw satisfaction of a successful PK. The thrill of hunting the most dangerous game. To an information broker, to a spy, like this one catching you is the closest she'll ever get to that same thrill of victory. With little surprise, you find you recognize the whiskered face behind the expression as «Argo the Rat», premiere information broker of Sword Art Online, and with growing dread, you realize she's about to offer you another contract.
"Gotten lazy haven't ya? Seriously, «Mandrake Extract»? Who the hell buys that? And in bulk too! You think I don't have people watchin' that store?"
Behind her a bodyguard stands, watching the door to the shack she chased you into, chuckling at some inside joke. "You said it boss, only thing that junk's good for is crafting paralysis poisons. That and spicing your curry."
"Shaddup! Best I can do without wastin' a skill slot. Nothin' the NPCs make has the right kick."
Your face is impassive but internally you're on the verge of panic. The hunt is over. Your back-and-forth skirting around the edges of the player economy dodging Argo and her horde of ratlings ruined by Johnny Black's voracious appetite for crafting materials. Your mind races trying to find an excuse, but you doubt she would've made her move if she hadn't caught you red-handed. There hasn't been a boss vulnerable to paralysis effects since the 20th floor, hell on the frontline most of the mobs were immune to the thing. Merely having poison ingredients on you was as sure of a mark of a Player Killer as the coffin tattooed to your thigh.
Your captors banter, uncaring of your position but what could you do? Attack an information broker who serviced Clearers? You doubt you'll even move her HP bar. When she turns to look at you her previous mirth has all but melted away as she jabs the weapon into your chest. No pain, no pop up, no damage, and her character indicators remain a vibrant green— as you look down at the forced teleportation crystal pressed into you.
"I should activate this right now. It's keyed to the «Black Iron Palace». Ya, know, jail. Oh, don't give me that, you think the Army goons will care bout' ya stupid green cursor? I got an arrangement with'em for you blood-soaked greenies. I'll make sure you won't see sunlight till SAO gets cleared."
What passes for your heart races as you bite down your protests— you doubt she'll be moved. Your green cursor isn't going to protect you now and you were far from the protection of the «Anti-Criminal Code». There wasn't much stopping a player from activating a forced teleport in a non-protected area, it didn't even count as a hostile action, something PoH always pointed to as proof SAO was designed to support PKers.
"But I'll cut you a deal, gopher-chan. You know who I am so you know what I want: information. Names, locations, numbers. Of course that includes your name as well. Do that and I'll make sure they're lenient with you."
It's all you can do to not laugh back in her face. "Lenient? The Army? They'll... lock me up and throw away the key."
"And you'll deserve it. Ever consider how much effort it takes to keep the Clearers outta danger? They're headless donkeys who'll charge into a dungeon at the first sign of a shiny. Every minute wastin' hunting down you damn Laughing Coffin gophers is another minute the frontline goes without support. You think we'd have to worry about paralysis gankers if not for jackasses like you?"
"Boss, why you trying to convince the blood-soaked greenie? Just a damn traitor, doubt we can trust their intel anyways. Just lock them up, we paid good money for that crystal trap," mutters the guard by the door.
"Dontcha interrupt my stress relief, Miggy!"
"Alright, alright, just pretend I'm not here. Like always."
With a roll of her eyes, she turns around, holding out the teleport crystal like a knife. "There ya have it. I'll make sure you get the nice cell, by the window, away from the real crazies in there. Hell, let's sweeten the deal— if your intel is legit and you promise never to leave the «Town of Beginnings» I'll have them let you out in a month."
Just like that, another cloaked figure is offering you a contract. Another false choice. If you accepted this deal, it didn't matter if they let you out of the «Black Iron Palace». You'll never leave town again for fear that Laughing Coffin would purge you for betraying them— not that your life in that city would be anything but misery after being outed as a member of Laughing Coffin. That tattoo on your thigh was scribed by an artifact, some sacrificial knife PoH dragged out of a hidden dungeon open only to permanently Orange players, a sign that to Kayaba Akihiko even murderers were supported by the game engine itself. Nobody would confirm it but everyone believed that PoH could track you all with it. You knew this, Argo knew this. One way or another you'll end up locked up or forever on the run.
Bear with it, accept the contract. It's what you've done all this time.
Play this death game. It's the only way to survive, the only way to see your mother again.
Join Laughing Coffin. It's the only way to survive, the only way to see tomorrow.
Now Argo's deal. The choice between a life of confinement and the life of a traitor fearing for her life.
...
A voice, a shout, a thunk as Argo's lookout collapses into a heap. A throwing pick emerges from his backside as the poison drops him like a rock. Argo and her ratlings weren't stupid— they all had equipment spec'd for status resistance, but in the constant war between overworked crafters and one extremely obsessive poisoner the winner was obvious to all.
No... you could say it was your victory. Johnny Black never would've gotten past amateur status without the influx of ingredients you supplied him. That «Mandrake Extract» was the key ingredient in his latest masterpiece, a paralysis potion that could drop even a player above level 60.
The bodyguard groans on the floor to the panicked shouts of Argo, your predicament and her teleport crystal dropped along the side of the shack as she rushes to her ally, status cure potion in hand.
She's stopped as a figure steps over the body of her lookout, appearing in a shimmering haze as if emerging from the air itself.
"sh*t, Miguel!" Argo the Rat growls at the figure, but you note she can't bring herself to look into your rescuer's bloodshot eyes or the pale half skull mask adorning his face. Her hands are already cupping an emergency teleport crystal.
"S... sh*t... just leave! Go!" The bodyguard spits out as he struggles to stand, only to have his head pushed into the dirt by the boot of the assassin.
Argo turns to look at you, a question on her lips as fear, hope, and loathing dance across her whiskered face. What, now? Did she honestly think you were going to help her? Could you even help her?
Whatever answer she read on your face it clearly wasn't what she was looking for. "You're monsters, yeah? Both of you lunatics. A killer and his damn maid."
"ARGO! JUST GO!" screams Miguel, the paralyzed guard.
Red eyes flash under the skull mask followed instantly by a flash of a drawn estoc. System lights fill the shack as a «Shooting Star» Sword Skill rockets your rescuer towards Argo in a straight stab. She barely has time to scream out a final curse as she's surrounded by the glow of her emergency escape crystal.
"Damn traitors!"
...
You let out your breath as the adrenaline leaves your body. The estoc is now pointed at you, the bodyguard still struggling to recover lying untended on the ground. His fear and desperation are writ clear on his face.
"Were you exposed?" asks your red-eyed savior.
You don't answer as you try to gather your exposure. It's still surprising how used you've gotten to being at knifepoint. You've more or less figured out everyone's kicks: JB was a crazed killer but he was also so heavily spec'd into crafting that he was dependent on your deliveries. PoH openly stated how useful you were which kept the chaff off your back.
«Red-Eyed XaXa», the man in front of you, lived for the hunt. Rather than kill in cold blood he loved duels to the death, contests of strength and guile— killing you would hardly satisfy him. Despite it all right now... you were safe.
"I... I should be alright. The Rat saw my face but she doesn't know my name."
"Is that so? You should be more careful in the future. You are less useful than you claim to be."
In the middle of a fight, when the skills were flying and the HP was deep in the red zone XaXa looked alive with laughter and joy. But usually, he was like this. Cold, clinical, annoyed. You could tell he didn't want to be here— but he was in charge of liaising with you on this floor. He must've noticed you were late on your delivery and tracked you via his Friend list.
You swallow and nod... you doubt a haircut was going to get Argo the Rat off your tail, likely you had another annoying few weeks ahead of you grinding up «Disguise».
His estoc remains pointed at you. "I'm curious. Were you truly ambushed? She called you a traitor. An interesting label..."
The implication was clear, but this wasn't the first time they've lobbied that line at you. "Do I even know enough to betray Laughing Coffin?"
"Hmm..."
"Yes, yes she did you f*cking murderer! Bitch sang like a bird, we're going to hunt down every last one of you!" the man in the doorway twitches as his feet barely regain feeling, stumbling before collapsing into dirt. His naked attempt at manipulation barely phases XaXa.
"Oh? Perhaps you could tell me. That songbird's name. Your fellow conspirator?"
"Does it matter!? Names are expensive commodities in this busine-oof!" His half assed attempt is silenced by another kick into the dirt by XaXa.
"A likely excuse. «Lux», it appears you were telling the truth. They didn't figure out your name."
It was obvious what was going to happen. XaXa didn't care about protecting your name anymore, because the guard wasn't going to walk out of this shack alive. He would be taking your name to the grave.
XaXa walks over and starts studying Miguel's coat with a small whistle of appreciation. "Impressive cloak. Poison's wearing off already. Nice bonus to «Hide» and «Search». One of Ashley's? Nothing but the best for Argo and her Ratlings. We should do something about her one of these days..."
"AHH!!!"
Miguel screams, not in pain, but in shock and surprise. XaXa calmly severs both hands off at the wrist before doing the same to his legs. The sight is hardly gruesome, more clinical as instead of blood only glowing polygons fill the stumps. His HP immediately drops into the yellow zone but no farther. XaXa was an expert at doing this while causing as little actual HP damage as possible.
...
"W... Wait!" What the hell were you doing? Your arm is outstretched and your sword is in your hand. XaXa turns and doesn't seem surprised.
"Really? Hmm, I can understand. You've been a Green player this whole time. Not to worry. The first violation even for direct killing is quite trivial. I've helped guildmates through the quest enough times I can do it in my sleep. Too high level for you in fair fight. Too low level for me. You finish him off. You may gain a level."
"No! NO! Please!" Whatever bravado was left in XaXa's victim has left with the loss of his arms— and presumably, his ability to activate an emergency crystal. XaXa looks at your hesitation before sighing in annoyance.
"So you mean to save him? Go ahead «Lux». Fight me. I won't even move." He calmly walks towards you, estoc held in his hand as his red eyes bore into you properly for the first time. He idly stops and picks up the Teleport Crystal Argo left behind before holding it out to you.
"Go on."
Wait... was he...
"I saw you eyeing it. Why don't you just use it? You can get away from here."
Your sword drops to the ground as your trembling hands pick up the crystal.
"You could've done this at the start «Lux». Nothing was stopping you. In the «Black Iron Palace» not even PoH can get to you. Absolute total safety. Simply wait out the completion of the game. With the mark of Laughing Coffin on your body. It wouldn't take much convincing."
It's... it's not as if you ever considered that! But that same doubt, that same nagging voice in the back of your mind...
How long would it take for Sword Art Online to get cleared?
What if it never cleared?
An eternity in a lightless prison. Unable to harm, unable to even be harmed. Your HP could never even be decreased and surrounded by «Immortal Object» walls you couldn't even initiate or accept duels.
A place where even suicide was impossible.
Was your body even alive? Was this all a dream... were you in a virtual reality or had this ended up as the new reality?
Were you alive? Were you dead? Nobody to date was known to have passed away from diseases rotting their real-life bodies for the entire year-long lifespan of SAO, a statistical unlikelihood— leading some to speculate that Kayaba had somehow truly whisked everyone away to another world itself.
To voluntarily go to that place, to lock yourself up...
"Can't do it? Can you «Lux»? Well, how about it? Why you don't send me?"
XaXa doesn't hesitate as he sheathes his estoc. You see the light, the laughter in his eyes. He's playing another one of his stupid games, only this time with you as the victim.
"I won't resist. Go ahead. Your new friend here will survive. He will vouch for you. The capture of a central member of Laughing Coffin. What a harvest!" XaXa's excitement was building, everything had to be a game, a challenge for this man. "Well? «Lux»? Can you wash away all the blood with the truth? Go on. Do it if you can."
You pull up the activation command for the Teleport Crystal. XaXa could easily dodge the touch of the crystal but he stands there, just letting you touch the crystal to his person. Just hit confirm. Just... save a life. Sentence a criminal. An easy choice.
XaXa leers down at you, another devil in a cloak offering you an impossible choice. He knows what you're going to do. He just wants to see you suffer.
Just do the right thing. Just... just do what you haven't had the ability to since the day they marked you as a member of Laughing Coffin.
...Today was no different. Any day before this you could've headed to Argo, to the Knights of the Blood, to the goddamn Army itself. You didn't know where the main base was, but just by stint of your frequent deliveries, you could narrow it down to a floor and a zone. You knew most of the members by name. You knew their goddamn builds.
Where would you have ended up? The Traitor first of the Green Players and then of Laughing Coffin itself.
All you had to look forward to was imprisonment, house arrest at best, followed by an untimely death by a Laughing Coffin remnant the moment you slipped up. Or perhaps a victim of Laughing Coffin itself would exact their revenge on you.
The previous Laughing Coffin spy did the right thing. He took what little information he knew straight to the Clearers, got a few supply bases wiped out, a few initiates got imprisoned. He lasted about a week before he was dead.
It was easy. Save Miguel's life. Lock up Red Eyes XaXa.
Live the rest of your life in fear and paranoia before being unceremoniously killed.
Perhaps a hero existed. A wondrous star shining above you all. One who could make that choice. One who would save others no matter the cost. One who would gladly die for others.
...but that wasn't you.
XaXa didn't feel threatened. You had a thousand opportunities to betray Laughing Coffin. Why would he expect you to take this one?
"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!? DO IT!" As if sensing your hesitation the dismembered player screams and rages. It appears the poison has finally worn off but without his limbs, all he can do is flop onto his back.
Turning his back to you XaXa laughs to himself. "It appears your luck has run out. «Lux»... is quite loyal. PoH truly has an eye for talent."
You hold onto the teleport crystal in a death grip, unable to do the right thing. Unable even to punish yourself.
"Ahh... no... p-please stop..."
XaXa has perched over the man.
"STOP HIM! PLEASE!"
You have no response as the estoc clips his body. A poorly aimed blow, the HP bar barely moving from its halfway position.
"YOU'RE A TRAITOR!"
A better attempt as XaXa corrects his angle. This one drives into his body.
"A TRAITOR TO HUMANITY!"
The blade rises once. Twice. Thrice.
"f*ckING SPIES, TRAITORS! WORSE THAN PKERS!"
His HP hits the Red Zone. He lets out a scream, clutching his now detached limbs.
"EVEN MURDERERS HAVE TO FACE JUSTICE! EVEN MURDERERS ARE MARKED!"
One sliver remains. A sudden burst of clarity enters the voice of the dying man.
"T... there will be a reckoning. This... is a new world. And one way or another, justice will be done. You traitors who hide among us, dodging blame, dodging responsibility! If there is a god in this new world, I curse you in their name! I hope you suffer, I hope the only thing you ever earn in this life is hatred! I hope you die in misery you f*cking TRAITOR!" His mouth froths as his eyes go wide, rolling to the back of his head.
XaXa pauses in contemplation. Whether from the shock or the sheer emotion his victim is now unconscious... but alive.
You've... taken a step forward. And as he was screaming, you took another step. The Teleport Crystal is in your hand.
Red Eyes XaXa laughs as he stands above Miguel's body. Without hesitation he grabs hold of the Crystal, now touching it alongside you.
"Haha... heheheh... This again «Lux»? What will you do? Have you finally come to a decision?"
The confirmation screen is flashing in your view.
Who was the target?
XaXa?
Yourself?
Or does the Crystal fall from your hands?
"So what did you choose?"
You're here again. The same dream, night after night, a nightmare that hasn't ended since SAO was cleared.
She looks at you, wearing your face, your body, your nightgown. Scraggly long silver hair framed a familiar countenance.
But she's not wearing your smile. You haven't had a smile in some time.
Her smile is one of her own. A gleeful, sad*stic smile. One that matches her golden eyes.
You don't want to remember, but you can't even protest. The brine fills your lungs as the force of water robs you of your very voice. You don't even have the energy to speak.
The same questions. The same guilt. A familiar refrain.
She stands over you on the edge of the coffin you lay in, smiling down at you, laughing at you. The pressure of the water is too great, it's a massive force pinning your limbs down. You can't move, you can't wiggle, it's sleep paralysis in the dream itself, and the demon is wearing your face.
You've asked her time and time again who she is. The answer remains the same.
"I am a Shadow. The true self."
...you want to go back. Back to being Kashiwazaka Hiyori. Back to your mother, back to your friends, back to your old life before you were trapped in that accursed world! Kashiwazaka Hiyori would've done the right thing. She would never let another die. She would never betray others. She would have turned in Laughing Coffin even if it meant her death.
"Then Kashiwazaka Hiyori would be dead. Words on a monument."
It was better. It was better to be a hero! To be dead and loved, appreciated, mourned!
"Hahaha, those cretins couldn't handle it. They couldn't handle the pressure, the new world! Don't you get it? We SURVIVED! No matter what happened to us, no matter who hated us we found a way to survive!"
The other you... no, this faker wearing your face has the gall to laugh. Has the gall to be PROUD of all the things she did—
"And we got away with it too! The police have no idea! All the other idiots in Laughing Coffin have gone into hiding or are stalked by the government! But you escaped them all. Hahaha, guess even those pathetic losers didn't snitch!"
You... never had an «Orange Cursor». The government was swarmed by lawyers demanding privacy for the SAO survivors so one's infraction history was probably the only thing the Virtual Division of Internal Affairs could legally obtain and yours was spotless. Known PKers still had to check in on government-mandated parole, and people talk. You doubt they'll ever be allowed to hold a job.
Your cursor was Green. To everyone else, you were just another random midlevel player.
"You did it again, Lux! You survived! You lied to the government, to society! Why shouldn't you be proud!?"
How many people did you betray?
"Oh, I don't know... let's go in reverse order. You betrayed the government by lying on your debrief. You betrayed Rossa when you let her die in your stead. You betrayed Gwen when you hid your Laughing Coffin affiliation in the raid. And you betrayed every single player by not turning LC in the first chance you got!"
There was no one left. No one you didn't yet betray.
"You always looked out for number one, you always knew how to prioritize our safety. So Laugh, Lux! You got your precious life back. You don't have to live in fear anymore. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"
I... just wanted to go home. To leave SAO. To be Hiyori again.
"And you won. You did it! So why are you doing this Lux? Why are you now betraying yourself? Is it that addicting? You going to keep hiding away in your room till you rot away!?"
I can't face them. The world. My family.
"Then GIVE IT TO ME! If you don't want it I'll TAKE IT. I'll SURVIVE in your place!"
She's straddled you, moving through the murky water as if it were air. The resistance is so great you can't move, you can't fight, you can barely lift a voice of protest as her hands - as your hands - wrap around your own throat.
"S... Stop..."
"I AM YOU! I AM WHAT YOU ARE INSIDE! I AM UNRESTRAINED BY YOUR USELESS GUILT!"
Guilt... it presses down on you, pinning you to the coffin, as your doppelganger glides through it with no resistance.
...this is the part. Where your vision goes cloudy, where you wake up and forget the dream before getting to do it again the next night. An eternity of punishment by your other self.
Let us put a stop to this.
The water thins. The crumbling waterlogged room roils as the abyss parts into two.
With a gasp you clamor out of the coffin into the empty air. It's a bizarre sight, the room is split neatly in two, an empty space on one end. Dry, safe, with no pressure, no guilt to speak of. The moment you exit the coffin your... doppelganger screams in agony as a force sucks her into the coffin itself.
With a dull thud it closes over your... Shadow and flies into the second half of the room.
A wall of water lies before you. The room is neatly bisected, air on one end, churning liquid on the other. Your coffin, now holding your Shadow, lies encased within the watery half.
In the middle you see a figure. Straddling the border between air and water, safety and abyss, hot and cold.
His back is to the abyss as he smiles at you, an immaculate blue tuxedo frames a statuesque face with a single glowing gold eye.
Greetings. I apologize for my sudden entrance. I had intended to speak with you sooner, but everytime I arrived I saw that you were already engaged in conversation. It would have been improper of me to interrupt.
"Ah..." you cough up some residual seawater. "Where am I? Who was that?"
At the question, the coffin behind your savior thumps in anger.
This is a place between dream and reality. Mind and matter. It is not a place where one can easily speak falsehoods, even to a trained liar such as yourself.
Falsehoods... she called herself a Shadow. The true self.
The expectation is that you come to this realization yourself, yet it has been months and I tire of watching you struggle. It may be a bit unorthodox to be so blunt, but our time is valuable, so I will confirm your suspicions. She is nothing less than you yourself.
That... gleeful, horrid person who took pride in the lives she ruined, that was you?
"You.. you're wrong. It's some kind of trick, a distortion. She's not m—"
The coffin seems to rile and the watery half of the room visibly boils. Before you can complete your sentence a watery tendril covers your mouth summoned forth from the man in the blue suit.
Ah, Ah, no. Please don't finish that sentence. I am in no mood to fight your metaphorical demon tonight. Alas my purpose tonight is significantly more pedestrian.
Your pain and fear has given away to confusion. Now that you're no longer perpetually drowning and can think, you can't recall the last time you felt so lucid while dreaming. Were you even in a dream right now?
"Who are you? What is this place?" you ask as the gag dissipates from your mouth.
This place is called the Velvet Room. Its state reflects the user's heart— and yours seems quite messy. But I have been rude to speak without introductions. You may call me MAXWELL. I come on behalf of my master with an offer. But as you are right now you are in no position to acquiesce.
It was hard to call the last few months since you left rehab as 'living'. It consisted of ignoring your mother, wallowing in your room, and studying for high school entrance exams. They gave you the same offer as everyone else: SAO Survivor School. No need for high school entrance exams. No need for catch-up work. The most modern school Japan has ever constructed with the best teachers.
You can't even fathom the idea. Of going to school with those people that you betrayed.
You have internalized some harmful ideas, dear guest. I had hoped by separating you from your Shadow you could have some manner of epiphany. Growth perhaps. It worked well for the last denizens of this Velvet Room, but it appears you are missing a component. Do you perhaps have any friends?
"No... no. Not anymore..."
Really? Well, that's truly unfortunate. I suppose it falls on me to figure this out. If I offered you my unconditional eternal friendship would that move you towards accepting your Shadow?
...
No? Well, I was sure that would work. Hmm... one way or another we need you to develop the power to wield a Persona. Your physical structure precludes Evocation, and you do not strike me as one with a rebellious spirit, so this method is the only one I have. Hmm, perhaps there's an answer here. The fog here is so thick, it has congealed into an abyss. Do you see it? Can you tell what it is?
That ocean pressing you into your coffin, the one your Shadow moves through like air. That cloying pressure—
I'll spare you the deliberation as I am short on time. The water is a metaphor for your guilt. The Shadow represents your inherent selfishness. You cannot be yourself without the other. Now that you perfectly understand your traumas, please accept your Shadow so we can move on.
Just accept... her? That crazed Shadow who is proud of all the lives you've ruined?
"MAXWELL? Um, t-thanks for explaining, but I think I already guessed that. But I can't just... accept her."
Why not? It's your Shadow. This is how it works.
You sense some impatience in MAXWELL's words as his previous politeness slowly unravels. You can note some sweat building on his face as he visibly fights down a sneer.
Your Shadow bursts out of the coffin but MAXWELL kicks her in the back, causing it to sprawl out onto your side of the room. Before it can talk a gag of water envelops her.
It even looks like you. See? Same appearance, other self, accept your sins? This isn't a difficult concept dear guest. I really am short on time.
Alright... you look at your other self. Even gagged she's glowering at you, standing to try to tower over you, trying to prove that she's superior. That the only thing that matters is survival. You have to accept... this?
More hesitation? Can I make it simpler? You + Shadow = Persona.
...
Do you know how hard it was to orchestrate this? I had to scour the Velvet Room for what felt like eons to grab the last few scraps of Fog left over. Then I had to tear your Shadow out of your psyche - no small feat mind you - only to watch you grapple with it for months without any progress! And all the Fog I carefully gathered gets condensed into this ocean of lies.
There's no more politeness, and instead, MAXWELL is whining. Complaining. A boy who couldn't get his way.
I don't have any more tricks! Can you get on with it!? It's a simple prospect. Accept your other self, gain the ability to wield a Persona. I'll even sweeten the deal, don't you want to take revenge?
...you turn towards Maxwell, floating over the wall of water, still half submerged in the abyss of your guilt. Revenge. Your Shadow stops glaring at you and turns with you. That word...
So now I have your attention? Both of yours? Who do you want to get revenge on?
Who? Laughing Coffin who robbed you of your freedom. Kayaba Akihiko, still at large, for robbing you of your life. Sword Art Online for robbing you of yourself.
...that hideous world that destroyed you. That made you like this. All these fake worlds.
"Everything."
"Everything."
Excellent! That can be arranged. I chose you not for your skills or predictions of your success. It is because you alone have the drive, the hatred, to excel in our goal to tear down HEAVEN.
You and your other self share a glance.
Acceptance appears to be too much for you right now. Fine, cooperation will be sufficient! It is a bit unorthodox but keeping the two of you separated is within my capabilities.
Right... negotiations. Your other self crosses her arms as she smiles in glee.
"50/50 timeshare."
"...50/50!? This is my body, my life—"
"It's my body too. And you're wasting your life. I plan on living it to the fullest."
"You don't even exist. You're just a metaphor!"
"And you're just a sack of meat, bones and psychological trauma. So what? You want to keep doing this night after night? I'll win eventually."
You growl. Another threat, another false choice. You turn to MAXWELL. "You were the one that did this? Separated me and her?"
I've already said as such.
"So what happens if we don't make a deal?
Nothing good I assure you. Without a Persona you will fail to meet my Master's requirements to be the next wildcard, I'll be uncreated and your shadow will forever be lost to the Abyss of Lies causing you to live in perpetual ignorance of your true self.
Huh...
"That doesn't sound too bad."
"You're just running away you coward!"
I do need to note that being uncreated is in fact very bad for me. If it will further convince you I suspect if your Shadow is destroyed you will likely also lose all your memories of SAO as it is the embodiment of your Shadow.
"So... all I have to do is not make an agreement with my Shadow and I'll get to forget about SAO."
...technically? But that's not a good thing. Why would you want that? I very much do not want that.
Your Shadow seems to sense something and is visibly panicking.
"Uh... 40% I'll do 40% timeshare! That's a better deal for you, isn't it?"
A chance to live free from this crushing guilt. A chance to be Hiyori again and not Lux, Traitor of SAO.
"30/70! Final offer!"
This would be much easier if you would just accept your Shadow.
Your Shadow's hands are outstretched. She's... offering you a contract.
One with yourself.
Accept the deal with the devil— your devil. MAXWELL has promised you a way of getting revenge, and perhaps with that, a resolution.
Or... leave it all behind. SAO. Lux.
Become Hiyori again. Get your life back.
It's the first choice you've had in 2 years.
[ ] You're... not me. But you do exist. I accept your offer.
[ ] No... I've had enough. I just want my life back. I want to forget.
