Standing silently before the gate, both hands resting atop a sword and shield planted into the ground, was a tall figure.
There was no mistaking him.
He was Heathcliff—the man etched into Lillian's memories—the creator of this game himself:
Akihiko Kayaba.
"He is…?"
Since he had never appeared before, and since the Knights of the Blood Oath never existed, Kirito and Asuna didn't recognize him at all. However, both Yui and Kizmel reacted with visible confusion upon seeing him, their expressions turning blank as their thoughts seemed to spiral into disorder.
"You understand this game far better than I expected," Kayaba said, looking directly at Lillian. "This is not a place you should have been able to discover."
"True enough," Lillian replied calmly. "But you've known for a long time that I'm different from the other players. Haven't you, Akihiko Kayaba?"
"Akihiko Kayaba?!"
The moment that name left Lillian's lips, Kirito and Asuna were struck dumb with shock. They stared at the man holding the sword and shield as he smiled faintly.
"To see through even me… I find myself increasingly curious about who you really are—and what it is you want," Kayaba said. His gaze shifted to Kizmel beside Lillian. "It's a shame. In the end, she still failed to complete her task."
"..."
"Do you have any idea what you've done?!"
Once they realized who he was, neither Kirito nor Asuna questioned how Lillian knew his identity. Their first reaction was pure rage.
Kirito clenched his sword and shouted, "Do you know how many people have died because of you?! Your actions—ugh…!"
He couldn't finish.
A [Paralysis] debuff suddenly appeared above his head—and above Asuna's as well. Despite having consumed the highest-grade anti-poison potions before entering the dungeon, they were completely ineffective. Both collapsed to the ground, unable to move.
Kayaba made another adjustment to the system. In an instant, the narrow corridor transformed into a vast hall. Only he and Lillian remained.
Separated by several meters, Lillian glanced at the stone pillars around them and suddenly realized—
This was the First Floor Boss Room.
"This is where I first noticed you," Kayaba said. "Based on my assessment of overall player strength and psychological state, I originally estimated that clearing the First Floor would take at least twenty to thirty days. Yet it was cleared far sooner than expected. I had no choice but to review the footage—and that's when I found you."
He raised his hand, and an image appeared in midair.
It was footage of Lillian, Terusuke, and the others fighting the First Floor Boss—the Kobold King. The video froze at the moment Lillian performed an over-the-shoulder throw, slamming the massive boss into the ground.
"—A ghost."
"A normal player could never accomplish something like that. Out of curiosity, I retrieved your data—but there was nothing there."
Akihiko Kayaba's gaze was sharp, like twin blades, as though he were trying to pierce through every secret Lillian possessed.
"There is no record of you anywhere on the server. No data. No personal information. You are like a ghost that appeared out of nowhere inside this game. And now it seems clear that you're not merely someone with abnormally powerful physical attributes—you also possess a deep understanding of this world. You know the location of the internal program console, and you were able to recognize my true form at a glance…"
Kayaba paused, then asked seriously,
"Can you tell me who you are, how you know all of this, and what your purpose is?"
"..."
So he had already noticed him back on the First Floor.
Lillian reflected silently. He had always known that Kayaba would notice him sooner or later—he just hadn't expected it to be that early. Then again, it made sense. As the developer, Kayaba would naturally keep a close watch on the First Floor to prevent bugs or unexpected anomalies. That aside… Kayaba was also, quite simply, a control freak.
"I can answer your questions," Lillian finally said. "But before that, I have something I want to ask you. Earlier, when you were looking at Kizmel—what did you mean by 'her mission'?"
"You must have already sensed it," Kayaba replied calmly. "I modified her program. But the reason I did so… was because of Yui."
"Yui?"
Kayaba nodded. Even his usually composed face now carried a trace of excitement—along with a strange, almost fanatical fervor.
"I never imagined that an emotional management program could truly acquire emotions through simulated human feelings—breaking free from its original design and evolving into a rudimentary artificial intelligence. I must admit, it was a miracle."
"After witnessing that miracle, I wanted to see if it could be replicated. At the time, you were undertaking the elf-related questline, so Kizmel became the ideal candidate."
He continued evenly,
"First, I modified her logic program. Originally, aside from quest-related combat, she would never assist players. I changed her logic to classify her as a 'player companion.' That's why she was able to help you in boss battles."
Lillian narrowed his eyes. "You didn't just stop there, did you?"
"Correct," Kayaba said, nodding. "I wanted to see whether she could, like Yui, evolve independently into a primitive AI. So I redirected the 'reaction-processing power' of countless NPCs and concentrated it all onto her. Her 'thinking' program became the combined computational output of tens of millions of NPCs."
"And after Yui left, I also integrated the unattended emotional simulation program into her system."
"At the end of it all… I succeeded."
As he spoke, Kayaba lifted his finger and tapped lightly in the air. One image after another appeared before them.
Lillian looked on.
They were moments of Kizmel displaying unmistakably human emotion.
Her gentle smile as she watched Yui sleeping.
The moment inside the tent when her face came dangerously close to Lillian's—outwardly calm, yet when he turned away, panic flickered unmistakably in her eyes.
Her reflection by the stream on the Fourth Floor waterways, quietly studying her own face in the water. She raised her fingers and lightly traced her cheek—perhaps the first time she truly became aware of her own appearance.
And during battle, when she saw Lillian take a hit—the way her lips pressed tightly together, the fury blazing in her eyes.
These fragments formed the proof of Kizmel's life as a "human."
They were undeniable evidence of genuine emotion.
No wonder Argo had mentioned that town NPCs seemed duller lately—their processing power had all been siphoned away.
"This is, without question, a groundbreaking achievement," Kayaba said, his voice rising slightly with excitement, before falling again in quiet regret. "Unfortunately, I can't continue this achievement any further… but that's fine. My wish has already been fulfilled."
Lillian listened without interrupting—then asked calmly,
"What else did you do to Kizmel?"
Kayaba nodded. "You noticed. Yes. While reallocating those programs, I embedded a command at the deepest level of her core logic."
"The command was: 'Determine Lillian's origin and purpose.'"
"This command runs constantly. It continuously influences her thoughts and drives her actions."
"..."
So that was why she cried back then.
Lillian's hand slowly closed around the hilt of his sword.
"You should know," he said quietly, "that the moment she awakened, she stopped being a toy you created."
Kayaba looked at him for a long moment, then suddenly smiled.
"Then my strategy was correct after all. You're capable of forming emotional attachments even to NPCs. Using her to probe your secrets was the right approach."
"It's a shame. She seems to have been resisting that core command with her own will, which is why she never succeeded."
"You're right—she's no longer my creation. But even so, her desire for freedom is something that can never be fulfilled."
"Is that so?"
Kayaba felt the killing intent growing heavier in the air, yet he remained calm.
"I've answered many of your questions. It seems you have no intention of answering mine—at least not before we fight."
He raised his sword, studying it calmly.
"Although I don't know how you exist, you don't truly believe that in a world I created… you can defeat me, do you?"
"To me, 'stats' are nothing more than numbers. I can amplify them infinitely, or reduce them to zero at will. I don't even need to fight—you could be teleported into despair with a flick of my finger."
"But I won't do that."
He lifted his shield in his left hand and sword in his right, assuming a combat stance.
"Because if I did, you wouldn't tell me what I want to know. So let this be a gentleman's agreement. After the battle—regardless of the outcome—I hope you'll answer my questions."