The day of Sword Art Online's highly anticipated launch, Memphis was awoken by Suzannah, the head maid of the Fraser household. Suzannah, a stern woman in her mid-30s, had medium-length dark brown hair tied back in a severe bun. Her light brown eyes, sharp and emotionless, often reminded Memphis of winter's frost—cold and unforgiving. Suzannah had served the family for years, and in all that time, Memphis couldn't remember ever seeing her smile. The woman was always impeccably dressed in a black maid's uniform with a crisp white apron, each detail perfectly in place.
Don't get her wrong, Suzannah wasn't mean or anything. She actually doted on Memphis quite a bit. If anything, Memphis would say Suzannah was like an over-doting mother hen who worried about her endlessly. In fact, just the other day, Memphis came home with a bruise on her arm because she hadn't blocked a hit from Master Sanji, her Taekwondo teacher. When Suzannah saw it, she started fussing, going so far as to try to wrap her up like a mummy. She had to put her foot down after that.
She was smelling like a hospital all day.
"Morning, Suzannah." She yawned as she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, the maid's heels making a click-clack sound behind her. "What's for breakfast?" Head cook Irving made the best strawberry pancakes. I hope he makes it with that yummy strawberry syrup he made yesterday.
Suzannah watched as her adorable young miss accidentally stabbed her cheek with her toothbrush before adequately putting it in her mouth, leaving a smear of toothpaste on the side of her face. She sighed. Her young miss was far too cute in the mornings.
"I believe Irving is making your favorite berry crepes with strawberry syrup and powdered sugar on top and a side of strawberry milk," she answered as she stepped forward to wipe the toothpaste off the girl's cheek.
Memphis' blue eyes sparkled with delight when she heard the words crepes. Seeing the cute expression, Suzannah had to use all her self-control not to lose the stoic expression she had developed over the years working for the Fraser household.
After washing up and getting ready for the day, Memphis headed to the dining hall for breakfast.
As the only child of a millionaire, she had the mansion all to herself when her father wasn't home. She lived a rather lonely life, catered by maids and butlers.
The mansion itself was a testament to her father's immense wealth. Built in a modern architectural style, it sprawled across acres, with tall windows lining the front that bathed the interior in soft, natural light. The floors were a polished marble, and the walls were adorned with contemporary art pieces. Every room seemed to radiate a sense of grandeur and understated luxury.
The dining room was no exception. A grand chandelier hung above the large mahogany table where she often ate alone. The house staff—maids and butlers—moved like shadows around the house, their movements fluid and efficient. Each maid wore a uniform of black and white, while the butlers wore tailored suits. They were all so quiet that sometimes it felt like they were invisible unless directly spoken to.
As Memphis sat down for breakfast, one of the butlers placed a plate before her—berry crepes, delicately arranged with fresh raspberries and blueberries. The thin, fluffy crepes were dusted with a light sprinkle of powdered sugar, giving them a look of decadence. To the side was a tall glass of strawberry milk, her favorite. She took a bite, the tartness of the berries blending perfectly with the sweetness of the sugar, each bite melting in her mouth. It was a brief moment of calm before the excitement of the day.
Unaware that all the maids and butlers paused to watch her blissful face. Each and every one of them sighed as they thought one thing. Cuuuuute!
Once finished, she checked her phone for the latest updates on Sword Art Online, still hours away from launch. The forums buzzed with excitement and speculation, but 11:00 a.m. felt like a lifetime away. She decided to head out for her usual morning run, a chance to burn off her impatience.
Memphis dressed in her typical running outfit: a sleek black and pink sports bra, paired with fitted dark gray sweatpants that hugged her slim, athletic frame. She preferred minimalist attire—functional and streamlined. The soft morning air greeted her as she stepped outside. The weather was perfect for running, cool but with a promise of warmth as the day progressed. The sky was a soft blue, with the early morning sunlight casting a golden glow over the landscape.
The park was her favorite running spot, sprawling with long, winding trails that cut through clusters of trees and open green spaces. Tall oaks and maples lined the pathways, their leaves rustling in the light breeze. The air was crisp and filled with the earthy scent of damp grass, a sharp contrast to the polished sterility of the mansion. Birds chirped in the distance, and the occasional runner or cyclist passed by, offering polite nods. Memphis ran for an hour, feeling the steady rhythm of her feet hitting the gravel trail as she listened to Too Sweet by Hozier. (Great song. Give it a try if you haven't)
Ahead of her was a silver-haired girl around her age, moving with a graceful yet determined pace. The girl was stunning, with long, flowing silver hair that swayed with each step, catching the sunlight and almost shimmering. She wore a lavender sports bra and high-waisted black leggings that accentuated her washboard abs, her figure lean yet curvaceous, with breasts larger than average—a stark contrast to Memphis's more petite, androgynous frame. Despite the girl's beauty, there was something fierce in her posture, a quiet strength that caught Memphis's attention.
As they ran past a towering oak, a small cat suddenly leaped from one of the lower branches, landing directly on the girl's back. Caught off guard, the silver-haired girl stumbled and fell to the ground, startled but unharmed. Without hesitating, Memphis slowed her pace and extended a hand to help the girl up. Up close, the girl's violet eyes were even more captivating—deep, almost hypnotic, with a gleam of intensity behind them. There was an undeniable attraction there, but Memphis, as always, pushed such thoughts aside, her stoic demeanor masking any emotion.
"Thanks," the girl said, dusting herself off as she accepted Memphis's hand. Her voice was smooth, confident, but with a hint of embarrassment.
"No problem," Memphis replied curtly, her tone as cold and distant as ever. But inwardly, she couldn't help feeling a strange spark of attraction to this girl again, though she didn't pay it any mind.
After parting ways, Memphis returned to the mansion to prepare for her training with master Akira. The kendo dojo, located in one of the mansion's expansive wings, was a minimalist space—polished wooden floors and bare walls except for a single calligraphy scroll with the word "Discipline" hanging near the entrance. Master Akira was already waiting for her, dressed in his traditional gi and hakama, his demeanor serious as ever.
"Are you ready?" he asked in his deep, steady voice.
Memphis nodded, grabbing the wooden practice sword. Training with Akira was always intense—focused on precision, discipline, and control. Each strike had to be perfect, each movement calculated. She lost herself in the practice, the movements becoming second nature after years of training. The feel of the sword in her hands was familiar and grounding, and for a time, she forgot about everything else—about the impending game launch, about the silver-haired girl in the park. It was just her and the blade.
By the time her training session ended, the adrenaline coursing through her veins had dulled her earlier impatience. But as the clock ticked closer to 11:00 a.m., excitement began to bubble up inside her once again. She quickly showered, threw on a comfortable hoodie and shorts, and made her way to her gaming setup. Her rig was top-of-the-line, built for optimal VR performance.
Memphis sat cross-legged on her king-sized bed, the soft pink and black of her oversized hoodie pooling around her as she stared at the digital clock on her nightstand. Her heart raced in anticipation.
"Finally," she whispered, her voice steady but charged with a mix of excitement and cold determination.
The nervegear slid over her eyes, blocking out the world around her. She heard the familiar hum as the system booted up, the whirring of data streams enveloping her senses. A pulse of energy rippled through her, syncing with the technology that would transport her into another realm.
"Link Start," she said firmly.