A/N: My CampNaNo fic, along with my pride and joy planning wise. Never planned anything so thoroughly before. :D Also, a big thank you to Aiko (Aiko Isari) for beta-reading for me, even during Camp when she had her own fic to work on. Thank you so much Aiko!
This fic is also written for two challenges at the Digimon Fanfiction Challenges Forum: the Testing Your Patience Challenge, where I pre-write four chapters before beginning posting. Thanks to CampNaNo, I've managed that so now it's time to upload. I'll be updating once a month and working on this during NaNoWriMo as well, so hopefully the pre-written chapters will last a while. I'll be uploading chapters on the first of every month (AEST time) so keep an eye out for those.
The other challenge is the Mega-Prompts Challenge, using writing prompts #031 – write a multichip with each chapter over 10k words. That's pretty much self-explanatory.
And the last thing I need to mention before you get started in reading the fic you clicked on the link for, is the context. It's a massive crossover: Adventure, ZeroTwo, Tamers, Frontier, Savers, Xros Wars (pre-Hunters), and Digimon Next, and contains mentions of Wonderswan, C'mon Digimon and Digimon V-Tamer as well. Not all at once, since that's a lot of characters and settings to juggle, but by chapter six all the main worlds will have been seen at least once.
And that's it from me by way of author's note. Enjoy, and tell me what you think. Thoughts, theories – I'm sure in 10k words there'll be something going through your mind. :D
septimo distentione
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When darkness was one's prison and silence one's song, the slightest change was as profound as a trumpet's call. And he'd awaited that change for an amount of time undefinable in his unchanging cell: that black substance that clogged all sense of sight and sound and touch save the slight hum of water within his ears: all he could define of his jail.
But senses were useless when knowledge existed: exact and undisputable. The Dark Ocean had swallowed him into his cell and there he'd remained, waiting for the day that barrier would erode away and let him unleash his flame of hatred and destruction again. Time was unimportant when his prison remained: standing, and intact. His hatred was a companion that would walk with him till the end of time and beyond. He'd existed beyond the Dark Ocean and would exist once it bowed to time and crumbled.
Then the time of that world that thought it could hold him would end, and his clock would start ticking again. He couldn't say when, or how; just that the natural decay that came from time would eventually erode the world that held him captive, the world those naïve Chosen Children had thought powerful enough to seal him away for eternity.
What little they knew; he'd existed before their world and would continue to exist beyond it. Even a millennia in captivity was nothing to a being like himself. Indeed, it felt as though his sentence had passed in a blink of an eye when he felt it: that subtle shift in the balance that promised a dramatic change.
And that change came. Slow, perhaps, it was for a being tied to space but he existed beyond that and, to him, it was as though someone had torn a band-aid off a bleeding wound and let it spew out that red and sticky yellow and little dots of black. Holes opened up in the darkness and his heart burned with relish for the freedom that came with it. Fire gushed out of those holes and the soft lapping of waves that had become his silence was quickly drowned by a screeching that reached into his bones.
His wrath was old: so old he'd forgotten its origins, but it had slumbered and awoken, it was as fresh as the day it had been brought in to that world.
And that world opened up in the sky. Dots, forming shapes. Buildings. Machines. Trees. Grass. Living beings.
For a moment he just drank in the sight of them – and then it was the sight of them burning he was drunk on.
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Chapter 1
A Seal on the Blazing Sky
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There was a boy lost in his dreams. Once, it had been a regular thing but his heart had since settled. And in that new groove he'd found had been a peace he'd slumbered happily within. Occasionally, he still dreamt. Strange, normal things like monsters under the bed, a girl he looked towards or those deep wounds he still had trouble letting go of. But that was normal, and most of his nights would pass in a dreamless haze.
But something was different that night. The dream was unlike his recent ones: not happy and light, nor was it teasing out an old fear or wound he tried to recover from. Or, at least, he didn't think it was. He could not recall a time he'd seen the sky so deep a shade of red.
He was not a poetic child: logic, reasoning…that was his forte and poetry brought about metaphors too strange and intangible despite how profound they were. And a burning sky was fodder for poetry if he ever saw it, but he could think of very few concrete reasons for such a thing, nor could he think or any times he'd witnessed such a phenomena before.
And yet, he was staring at a blazing sky: clouds swallowed up by grey and orange and red and so thick his body felt as though it bore a huge weight despite hovering in the air. Below him were clouds as well: thick clouds he could almost dare to walk upon if they didn't spit sparks like heated coal. His body burned simply from the proximity of it, and it was a wonder he hadn't fallen from the sky already or burnt to a crisp from the heat.
But it was also a wonder he could float in the sky at all, even in a dream. His dreams had never been so nonsensical, even in an innocent childhood far off. Monsters under the bed had just been small lights in the darkness, staring out. The long stretch of desert had been one he'd walked before, in different frames of mind. But the burning sky was something new, something…strange.
Something that prodded him quite suddenly and sharply as though he were a lump of coal like the clouds. He gasped and jolted within his blankets, the image of the blazing sky becoming transparent as reality – Wormmon's bright blue looking upon him in worry – claimed its place in his vision. The worried digimon was on his pillow: uncurled, antennae drooping. Ken ran a hand down his back: those firm cool scales he could always find comfort in. Behind him, Ken could see the computer he'd left on overnight playing through the slideshow of photos of his friends that was his screensaver. Daisuke shooting a goal. Takeru chasing his hat in the wind. Iori practising kendo. Miyako and Hikari in new outfits at the mall. And behind them were his beige curtains, looking almost orange in the morning light.
Ken blinked away the fuzziness of sleep that still clung to his vision, then tried to sit up carefully. Wormmon shifted as well to give him room. The sheets had tangled themselves some time during the night, which hindered him, and the worm digimon's numerous appendages were more a hindrance than a help with tangled bed sheets. So were bunk beds, and usually being an immobile sleeper: most nights, Ken would settle down in a position and wake up the next morning the same and stiff all over. It was uncommon for his sheets to dislodge themselves at all, and them tangling around his legs like so was more unusual still. But he got them off without falling off the bed and while he wouldn't get a perfect grade on grace, his attempt was good enough. The desire to have everything a picture of perfection had faded away as the influence of the Dark Seed had dulled within him. Being free was more important than being graceful.
Once he was sitting up, Wormmon crawled over the pillow and to his knee. 'You were having a bad dream,' he said, worried: something they both recognised, but it was the crux of further discussion and still worth saying. 'You were shivering like you were cold, but you were sweating as well. And you tossed and turned a lot in your sleep as well.'
Ken felt his forehead: slick and stinging in the cold winter air, and colder still when he pulled his hand away and stared at the slight sheen spread on his palm. His pyjama top and pants clung stubbornly to him as well, he noticed then. And goosebumps ran along his arms and legs – and the moment the thought registered within his head, he pulled the covers over the both of them in a sudden chill.
He didn't know how he'd missed how cold it was when he'd woke – or rather, how cold the still fresh sweat made him feel. The sheets were a little wet as well, but sleeping beneath them all night had still left them warm and it was comforting to huddle underneath with Wormmon on his knee. Wormmon wasn't as cold as Ken was; digimon had different sensitivities to the weather than humans did, and he wasn't covered in sweat like his partner was. Worry was what plagued him the most: worry for the boy who'd had a nightmare that rivalled those ones he'd left behind years ago.
For himself, Ken let the warmth beneath the covers and Wormmon's comforting presence wash over him. The image of the burning sky dulled behind his eyes until it became the pinkish-orange of an innocent sunrise – and yet, in the back of his mind, Ken knew there was something foreboding still: something that clung to him more than irrationalities commonly did.
But why was it he hadn't felt fear at the sight of that burning sky? Or when he found himself in the clouds, held there by nothing. A strange dream that had been. He'd been burning, but slowly – too slowly for fear to clench his heart and instead it had been a sort of morbid fascination with his state. He could have slowly melted but, feeling no pain nor fear, it was something he could have watched and tried to rationalise until his existence had been reduced to nothing.
Funny how it frightened him now, in retrospect: chilling him like he'd shivered in the throes of his dream. Or maybe it had chilled him then as well, and coupling with the heat of the burning sky it had made both extremes bearable –
He shook his head. He'd almost forgotten the most important thing: that it had been a dream, and not reality. Wormmon's legs dug into his pyjama bottom and Ken drew him even closer, so the digimon sat upon his chest instead.
'Ken?' his partner asked, worry still clouding his tone. 'Are you alright? Do you want to talk about your dream?'
'I'm fine,' Ken mumbled into blankets and Wormmon's smooth skin. 'My dream…was a bit strange, but I'm fine.'
'You're still shivering,' Wormmon pointed out, in prime position to feel the vibrations that resulted.
Ken laughed a little at that: partially forced, but somewhat naturally as well. 'It's cold.' He was yet to hear Wormmon complain about a winter in the human world – even if he'd only had one experience prior to this one to speak of. Luckily, that didn't seem to detach from the experiences of snuggling under heavy blankets, or curling up in front of a heater, or letting hot soup slip down his throat, or relaxing in a slightly too warm bath.
'It is?' Wormmon relaxed a little against Ken's chest.
'It is. It's winter after all. We might even get snow in a few days.'
'Oh, goodie.' Wormmon enjoyed watching the snow drift from the clouds. His body wasn't made for walking in it; his legs were too small. Watching from the window or the balcony or Ken's shoulder though was enough for him. 'Maybe now?'
'Probably not.' The laugh was more natural now, and the goosebumps were creeping away from the blanket warmth. 'But we can look; we need to get up at some point anyway.'
He would have been up already too, if he'd had plans for the day. Luckily, it was the winter holidays and he'd finished off his Christmas shopping while his friends scrambled for a few last minute presents to find. That allowed him to switch his alarm off and sleep as long as he dared. It was too early for such a day but he was awake now, and so was Wormmon, and lying in bed after sleep wasn't something he did particularly well. Wormmon was restless now too, eager to see the sky and whether it was heavy yet with snow – and Ken was eager for something too: a shower to wash off the rapidly drying sweat. It was starting to feel uncomfortable.
Wormmon moved to his shoulder and they climbed down from the bed together. The winter cold hit Ken again but he ignored it. He'd put the little heater in his room on later if he needed it, but he needed a shower and change of clothes first. And breakfast perhaps. He had the extension cord still, and it wouldn't be the first winter day they'd enjoyed steaming pancakes and soup out in the balcony together.
Wormmon approved wholeheartedly when Ken suggested it; both of them loved sweet things and Ken's mother had brought a new jar of honey just that weekend. 'I'll start on the batter,' he volunteered: perhaps his favourite part of cooking. Ken was more than happy to agree; he could handle the stove once he'd had a quick shower.
And it was quick, because the moment the warm spray of water hit him he remembered his dream again, almost as though it was trying to point something out to him. The problem was that burning skies held no significance to him: not like deserts that stretched further than the eye could see or bubbles rising to the sky along with happy memories. Even the feeling it left behind was different: not something that made his heart clench in fear, but simply made him uncomfortable. But, somehow, that uncomfortable feeling was more unbearable than the fear.
Wormmon was waiting for him in the kitchen, the batter smoother than Ken could ever hope to make it and the buttered pan waiting. His mother had been able to teach the digimon more about cooking than she had her son; Ken simply hadn't had the interest in culinary arts that Wormmon did. He could cook though, and Wormmon's eager eyes drew him quickly to the pan and away from nagging thoughts.
Half an hour later, they had a high stack of round pancakes that Ken was carrying and a jar of honey with a spoon that was Wormmon's baggage to the balcony. They never made it there though; the moment Ken pulled back the curtain in his room the sight of a blotched red sky greeted him: that burning sky from his dream.
.
Daisuke was a late riser even at the best of times, and the holidays only served to reinforce that. He still had Christmas shopping to do, but he left that after lunch like he always did. He'd convinced Takeru and Hikari to do the same; three minds were better than one after all, and they knew the elder generation of Chosen better than him despite the years they'd all spent together.
He hadn't planned on getting up before midday and his sister the same, but the insistent beeping of his D-terminal drew him out of his lazy dream. It was an inconsequential one – one of those that fled the moment his mind registered reality: the snoring of the small blue digimon curled in the crook of his arm, the whirring of the portable heater next door his sister had left on overnight – and the beeping that had disturbed his sleep.
He felt blindly and Chibimon stirred by his other elbow and sat up. 'What's going on?' he asked drowsily. 'Turn that off.'
Daisuke forced his eyes open, looking around for his D-terminal. He spotted it half-poking out of the red jacket he'd worn the day before and grabbed it. It silenced the moment he opened its screen and opened the mail waiting for him.
He blinked at the name. Ken knew better than to send him anything in a morning there wasn't school or a meeting at Koushiro's place. And the message was even odder. 'Look at the sky,' he repeated. 'What in the world?'
Chibimon looked equally blank, and if the message hadn't been from Ken (or Iori, even less likely to play a prank), he'd have discarded it as a hoax and gone back to sleep. But it was Ken, and however nonsensical it sounded he followed the request, stumbling over to his windows and yanking the curtains back.
He hadn't had time to come up with a plausible theory for such a message, but he didn't think he'd have managed one close to the truth anyway. The sky was splattered with crimson: above and beyond the red that seeped into it in sunrise. It almost looked, to him, like someone had torn holes in the sky and set fire to what lay beyond it: as he watched those patches of red lightened and darkened, flickering like a dark candle's glow.
'Why is the sky like that?' Chibimon asked, confused but not particularly worried. As far as things went, he was still a newcomer to the human world and less familiar with all its phenomenon's than the humans who lived there. 'I haven't seen that before.'
'Yeah,' Daisuke said, staring at how the cloud tips became black and shrunk away from the patches of red. 'I haven't seen anything like it either.'
His D-terminal beeped and flashed with a sudden influx of new messages. Checking, he realised Ken had messaged not only him but their entire group, and now the others were responding. Quicker than he could read, the messages came: comments, replies, all forwarded to everyone. Most of the initial ones were the same: shock at the state in the sky.
'None of the others know what's going on,' Daisuke said, stealing another peak at the sky. It stared back, perpetually unchanged. He returned to the messages. 'Hey, how do you feel when you look at it?'
Chibimon stared intently out the window. 'Like…I don't know.'
'That's what Wormmon said too.' Daisuke tapped in a reply. 'And Tailmon.'
'But they're smarter than me,' Chibimon protested, looking at his partner.
'Well, they said they felt uncer-' He cut himself off, reading a particular email from Iori. 'Iori says his mother can't see it.'
Chibimon's eyes went wide. 'But it's so…red.'
Daisuke agreed; the ugly blotches in the sky seemed unmistakable to him, once the curtain was drawn back. But if Iori's mother couldn't see it – 'Nee-chan!' he yelled, thumping on the wall beside him: the wall that divided his and his sister's rooms.
There was muffled cursing and the sound of shuffling and a door opening. His door followed, and a tousled haired Jun poked her head in. 'What?' she asked irritably. 'It's just before eight; you're not up this early on school days you know.'
Daisuke hadn't noticed the time, nor was it particularly important in this setting. 'Look at the sky,' he said instead, pointing at the patches of flame.
Jun gave him an odd look then came in, peering through the window. 'What?' she asked. 'It's winter; there isn't supposed to be much blue in the sky.'
Daisuke stared at her; she believed that. But he could still see the red in the sky, and from the emails that kept coming, so could he.
'So no red blotchy things?' he checked, just to be sure.
Mystified, Jun shook her head. Daisuke sent a message to the others, who'd checked with whatever family members were at home and found out much the same. Then another message came: from Koushiro who'd been informed somewhere along the line, calling them to his place.
.
From the Digital World, the scene of the burning sky was even clearer: too clear. Every inhabitant of that world could see it: from the Ultimate digimon who laid claim to those very skies to the Fresh, newly hatched. The four Gods could see it: the azure dragon who raised his bearded face from within the sea to cast his sorrowful gaze, the white tiger that sniffed the stirring fear and lust for blood descending, the red bird of the south that flashed his own burning feathers to the sky in anger and defiance, and the black tortoise of the north whose both heads cried in sorrow.
Even Gennai, beneath the light of guidance that cloaked his lake, could see the ugly blotches of hate in the sky. And he lamented the sight: he was one of those few who had expected it, but still it was a sorrowful sight. Sorrowful, because it marked the beginning of a great and terrible war…a war that brought together the disconnected worlds and times in what could be the hallowed grounds of their slaughter. He remembered that prophecy well: a prophecy alongside many other seemingly hopeless ones that had been averted.
But this was one that had already progressed beyond an easily stoppable point. Stopping it early meant stopping it at the route…and twice they'd let the demon escape. It was the one battle the Chosen had failed to win. A battle they hadn't been able to win – and they'd hoped the powers of the other world would keep that sin in check, but it had not.
Hooves hammered at his door: Centalmon. Gennai opened the door to him, and the grave guardian of the temple of prophecies knelt down. 'The sky is burning, he said gravely. 'The courtroom has appeared above the temple.'
'I see.' He had expected as much, expected it since he'd first heard of the catastrophe to come and the hope for averting it. But he had hoped, and even believed, it wouldn't come. The Chosen had accomplished such miracles, in both worlds – and yet defeating a Demon Lord had proved to be beyond them. It was beyond the Digital World as well – and the Dark Ocean, for that fire in the sky could only mean Demon had broken out of his jail.
'It was only a matter of time.' Gennai hitched up his robe and climbed upon the other's back. 'Ride, my friend. Let us try to find some hope.'
And Centalmon ran, across land and water like no other steed could run. His destination was far from whence he'd come, but need gave him speed and the sky had not changed its ugly glare by the time they arrived. The great shadow of a winged dragon awaited them, blocking the sky save the red tinge it gave to him. They drew closer still, and Gennai, after a long time, was graced with UlforceV-dramon's majestic might.
Centalmon stumbled and fell to his knees as he slowed before the gate – except it was no longer a gate that guarded the labyrinth that lay beneath, but a palace door that opened up to a large and magnificent hall. Gennai gracefully dismounted and UlforceV-dramon landed and contracted his wings, dwarfing his two guests by his size. And that size was proportional to his power, compared to Gennai, who was not a digimon, and Centalmon who was a mere Adult for all the responsibility he bore. UlforceV-dramon was an Ultimate, and not just any Ultimate but one who stood beyond even the four Harmonies ones. But he was not a Governor: just a protector, against those things that even the might of the Chosen shrunk before.
'The gate is lost,' the great dragon rumbled, kneeling so that the difference in majesty may be less. 'Demon will soon burn through what is left.'
'I assumed as much.' The sky flared bright red, then darkened again. He closed his eyes, recalling the words burned into his mind: 'Sin is not destroyed by mankind but locked away,' Demon, who the Chosen had only been able to drive into the Dark Ocean, 'and one day the lock breaks and an even more unbearable flame is unleashed upon the worlds.' And that was now happening: the sky was blotched with red: a barrier slowly being burnt away. 'The barriers between worlds dissolve, and a long lost order is restored.' That had foretold the return of the Courtroom and the palace it resided in, and UlforceV-dramon.
And then came the part that was still yet to come. 'The battleground for the final world is sealed away from sin, though it crumbles, within and sin will find a hope of its own within so the gates may upon in a sea drenched with bright red blood.' He opened his eyes and stared at the sky again. The most disturbing thing about that prophecy was where it ended. Gates opening on a sea of blood: a sea that seemed to spell a massacre.
'Not all prophecies are fulfilled,' Centalmon attested, dragging himself to his feet. 'But we are partway into this one already.'
'We are.' Ulforce V-dramon straightened again, marching to the doors. 'One thing is in our favour though: for too long our order has been in isolation, protecting different worlds from the shadows, keeping in ignorance. It could not be helped then; travelling between worlds was a difficult thing even for us – but now the doors have been thrown open, and we have the knowledge of six dimensions at our disposal. Even now, it is not too late.' He threw the doors open.
It is not too late. The situation with Vamdemon had also been changed mid-prophecy, although in that case it hadn't been in their favour. Gennai followed UlforceV-dramon into the large hall beyond the door, and Centalmon slowly followed. We have time.
He just hoped it would be enough: enough to find the way to destroy a Demon Lord. Or to allow the Chosen, those brave Chosen back on earth that had saved them so many times already, to do so.
.
The meeting of the Chosen children at Koushiro's house was underway by the time Ken arrived. He'd come as fast as he could, evolving Wormmon and flying across the river, but still the other Chosen lived far closer than he. He hadn't missed very much though; it seemed Jyou had arrived only a little before him. The senior's face was still flushed from furiously peddling, though the wheels of the bike parked in front of the Izumi apartment were still.
Wormmon could not flush per say, but he also felt the strain of exertion when he devolved and was carried in. He'd flown reasonably fast, but not too fast; if fireballs or something of the sort started falling from the sky he needed to be able to dodge, but if something happened afterwards he also needed some energy in reserve. And the panic seemed unfounded. No-one really knew what was going on, nor had they been – except for Ken – initially so concerned. And even he hadn't been initially afraid: shocked, yes, but not initially afraid. But deciding it had something to do with the digital world brought up concerns with the older generation, and some of the better informed young ones as well.
Of the second generation Chosen (as they called themselves, to distinguish between Oikawa's and the international Chosen children), Ken was the least well informed about the adventures of the original Chosen. It wasn't something that happened on purpose; even Hikari who'd shared part of their adventures didn't know it all. They all knew the general story, but often little details deemed unimportant initially were revealed afterwards when they became relevant. Like the tidbit about the international Chosen; Koushiro had mentioned in passing something Ken had had, at the time, no idea about.
And while they all knew how the digital world had appeared in the sky after the first defeat of Vamdemon in 1999, most of them hadn't known that the digital world had appeared in the sky twice before.
'Once was when we were very young,' Koushiro was explaining from his desk chair when Ken and Wormmon came in. 'Oh, hi Ken.' He went on without another pause, and Daisuke shuffled closer to Takeru and opened up a spot on the floor which Ken gratefully took. 'I was too young to remember it, and so was Takeru…and Hikari, though she remembers more clearly than most of us.'
'Because Koromon came to our house,' Hikari said, seated on Koushiro's bed. Sora was beside her, with Miyako on the end with feet dangling off and Poromon on her knees, and Mimi, who had planned on taking advantage of her winter holidays and was visiting them in Japan, was with the pillow on the other end. 'I could never forget that.'
'I'll say,' Taichi agreed from his spot on the floor, crammed beside Yamato. 'Don't know how I did.'
Koushiro's room was holding up surprisingly well: never before had all twelve of them along with six digimon been in the same room. The thought crossed more than one mind though: how cramped it would be if the older six had their digimon with them as well. But they were busy keeping an eye on the digital world.
'Koromon came to your house?' Ken repeated. He'd heard about the fight between Greymon and Parrotmon which had selected the original eight Chosen Children, but not about the Koromon. 'Agumon's Child form?'
'Not this Agumon.' Hikari laughed. 'Koromon was normal sized enough, but the Agumon that digivolved was huge.'
'He broke a window and jumped from the second story too,' Taichi added. 'Taking my little sister with him, I might add.' He tried to look disgruntled, but Hikari gave him an exasperated look and he gave it up. 'Lucky 'kaa-san was busy with –'
Koushiro cleared his throat. 'We're getting off topic,' he said, when the Yagami siblings looked at him. 'The police and government ruled it as a terrorist bombing because only the eight of us had been able to see the digimon. The other time was when Taichi was sent back to earth due to a time warp, and then only Taichi, Hikari and Koromon could see the digimon passing between the rift.'
'Like the time digimon started appearing in Kyoto,' Miyako cried out suddenly, accidentally jostling Poromon in her lap. 'No-one could see them until that one particular one jumped on the cameramen!'
'When the destruction of the destiny stones was warping the digital space.' Koushiro nodded. 'It is possible the appearance in the sky is a similar sort of warp. We still don't know why the digitama appeared in our world nine years ago, but the cases with Taichi and Miyako seeing digimon and the digital world when no-one else could were most certainly caused by warps.'
'I'm not sure I did see the digital world.' Miyako frowned, before looking at her partner. 'Did you?'
'You didn't take me on your trip,' Poromon replied. 'Ken brought me, remember?'
'Oh, that's right.' Miyako chewed lightly on her bottom lip.
'We didn't see any digimon on the flight over,' Ken volunteered. Wormmon nodded his agreement.
'Hmm…' Koushiro tapped something in to his computer, then pulled up another file and began entering something there. 'I wonder if…' He left his sentence there, consumed in his thoughts and analysis, until a curious and impatient Jyou called out to him. 'Huh?' He blinked, as though he'd forgotten about all the people and digimon in his bedroom. 'I was just thinking about something.'
'About what?' Taichi asked. 'Come on Koushiro, don't keep us in suspense.'
And he wasn't the only curious one.
'Nothing much.' Koushrio sighed. 'I was just thinking…well, we know the warp that sent Taichi and Agumon back to our world was caused by the clash between MetalGreymon and Etemon's entire dark network, and the warp that caused digimon to start appearing in Kyoto was caused from the destruction of a Destiny Stone – but then why didn't the destruction of subsequent destiny stones cause similar reactions? And if it is warps in digital space which cause only those who are Chosen to see the digital world or digimon, what caused the one nine years ago?'
Some of them contemplated that, while others looked confused still. 'Why is that important?' Mimi asked.
'Because if there was a warp that caused the phenomenon nine years ago,' Koushiro replied with an air of patience, the sort one adapted when explaining something they thought was beyond the listener's ability to understand, 'then it's a much higher chance that there is also a warp of some sort causing the current appearance of the sky.'
'But what could be causing the warps?' Iori asked.
'Well,' Koushiro drew out the word as though he was still putting his thoughts together, 'I believe it is the sudden and massive release of a large amount of digital power.' At the numerous blank looks he received, he elaborated. 'The warp that sent Taichi and Agumon back to our world was a result of a collision between MetalGreymon's Giga Destroyer and Etemon's Dark Network, which resulted in the destruction of said network. The warp which sent the digimon, including BlackWarGreymon, to Kyoto was a result of Arachnemon and Mummymon destroying one of the Destiny Stones – which still doesn't explain why it was that particular one…'
There was silent for a moment while they all thought about Koushiro's theory. 'Maybe it has to do with the Destiny Stones being rewritten to act as a prison for Azulongmon as well as a stabilising force for the Digital World,' Ken offered finally. 'That's why, with each Destiny Stone BlackWarGreymon destroyed, Azulongmon's image became stronger until he appeared in person at the last one. With one power growing stronger and the other going weaker, maybe it was that particular Destiny Stone that had the greatest overall power released with its destruction.'
'Maybe.' Koushiro mulled over that. 'It would help if we could calculate the energy releases, but unless they were recorded in the digital world that's near impossible now.' He shook his head. 'What's most important now is working out what the state of the sky actually is, and what it means.' He looked at Ken again. 'Did you and Stingmon get close enough to feel any heat from the sky?'
'At the speed Stingmon flies?' Ken shook his head. 'That's hardly conclusive though.'
'Does it matter?' Daisuke asked, giving his partner an odd look as Chibimon shook himself. 'Did you get water in your ears?' Chibimon shook his head, and Daisuke shrugged, turning back to the general conversation. 'If the problem's in the digital world, won't it be obvious once we open up the gate?'
'Of course not,' Miyako began, before realising she couldn't come up with a reason as to why that wouldn't be the case. 'Fine, we'll try it.'
Koushiro offered the computer to her and she took it, while the other took her previous spot on the bed. In a couple of minutes, she had the default programme up and running. 'I'm opening the gate now,' she warned, before proceeding to do exactly that, pointing her D-3 at the screen. 'DigiGate, open!'
It opened, and none of the Chosen collected in Koushiro's bedroom could see anything unusual on the screen. But all of them had first-hand experience that the digital world wasn't always how it appears. 'Looks can be deceiving,' Tailmon yawned and stretched in her spot on the windowsill, voicing the sentiment. 'We should check it out.'
'All of us?' Sora asked, raising an eyebrow. There was quite a number of them after all.
'Only the younger ones,' Yamato decided. 'They are the only ones with digimon with them right now that can defend them.'
'And there you go, assuming the worst again.' But Taichi didn't argue; it was a sound plan.
'It's decided then,' Koushiro said. 'We'll be waiting.'
.
Even despite the doom that hung over them, Gennai couldn't help but be in awe of the interior of the palace – and, in particular, its council room. The sunlight seemed to pour limitlessly through the high windows, basking the twelve statues that marked the seats of the Royal Knights in its yellow glow. And each of those twelve statues was, except the colour and lack of life, so much like the original that Gennai felt if the artist (or artists perhaps) had taken the time to paint them as well, he may have, for a bit, mistaken them for the real thing.
But it was only UlforceV-dramon of the Royal Knights that was present currently, ignoring the statue that marked his own seat and instead sweeping up to the altar where a pedestal rose. It was gold digizoid: far more malleable than chrome and even bronze and silver, but by far the most valuable and sacred metal the digital world had to offer. But upon the pedestal was something even more valuable: something even more potent than the digi-cores that the Harmonious Ones held. Gennai had only heard legends tell of it, but he knew it could, at the very least, open the door between dimensions and call forth the other Royal Knights.
'A failsafe of sorts,' UlforceV-dramon explained, standing before the pedestal now. 'When the order was scattered across the different dimensions to defend the fabric of this universe, part of each of our power was sealed away within this orb: the part that allows us to transcend space and time and go to our brethren's call should our assistance be required elsewhere. But we are to use this only in an emergency, for we leave the worlds entrusted to us unprotected.' He looked gravely at the artefact a moment longer, before reaching out tenderly to pluck it from its resting place.
Centalmon gasped with awe, and it was only from living so long that Gennai was able to stop himself from following suit. But it was an awe-striking scene, when UlforceV-dramon turned to them with that pulsating energy ball in his hands.
To Gennai, it resembled a heart: a human heart, the way each part of it moved in perfect fluidity with another, and the way it shaped and reshaped itself as close to a sphere as it could manage. But, at the same time, it wasn't like a human heart because those, for all its power, was a solid mass of muscle that supported a single circuit called the human body. It was a part of not one circuit, but many circuits, and the power rippled outwards as it was released, shaking his robes, shaking Centalmon's metal body, shaking the temple beneath them… He couldn't see how far its effects rippled, but certainly they went beyond time and space, calling to the other Royal Knights.
For a moment, that was all that happened, and then there was a sharp knock on the door to which Centalmon, with a gesture from UlforceV-dramon, attended to. Gennai did not recognise the being that walked in: he was tall and grand like UlforceV-dramon, but slender and more human-like in form. He carried a sword in one hand like a knight heading in for a joust, and the eyes behind the lion mask were curled with a shadow of contempt. His gaze passed over Gennai quickly though, and it was UlforceV-dramon that bore the grunt of it as he stepped down.
And when the newcomer stopped in front of a statue, Gennai noted the kinship and realised that he too must be a Royal Knight.
'You have come, Duftmon,' UlforceV-dramon said to the newcomer. 'Your speed is welcome.'
'I see the others have not.' He cast his gaze upon the statues, two of them in particular: Omegamon and Magnamon. 'Surely those of the same world are expected to be faster than those of us who have to travel through dimensions to arrive.' He sniffed, then added: 'Perhaps they are not worthy of their titles of Royal Knights.'
UlforceV-dramon ignored him, turning to his two other guests instead. 'This is Duftmon,' he introduced. Duftmon inclined his head shortly in their direction. 'He is one of the Royal Knights who defends the barrier between other worlds.'
'And I see this one is in poor condition,' Duftmon cut in. 'But if that is the big emergency, I'm afraid there is a similar one elsewhere that occupies my attention, so I cannot help.'
UlforceV-dramon's eyes grew graver. 'Then Craniummon will not be coming?'
'He is elsewise occupied,' Duftmon replied as though he were repeating himself. 'So should I be.'
'It cannot be helped.' UlforceV-dramon stepped up to the pedestal again, this time to plunge his hand in to the depths. 'Omegamon and Magnamon are on their way and I'll explain fully once they arrive, but it is not the barrier itself which is our concern, but what has caused it.'
The air above the pedestal shimmered and the light flooding in through the windows seemed to coagulate in that single place. Slowly it morphed, and Duftmon's sword swung down to tap the ground impatiently before the image was fully formed.
Once it was, the five current inhabitants of the council hall were simply silent and watching.
.
The six children and their digimon partners emerged from the DigiGate with a grace they'd learnt over the many falls, stockpiles and bruises obtained from travelling as such. Some time during the world invasion on Christmas Eve they'd learnt to stay on their feet, and now their balance barely wavered as they passed through the barrier between their two worlds and emerged on the other side.
Miyako had made no particular choice with the DigiGate and it had dropped them off somewhere on File Island it seemed. Takeru was most familiar with it, but even someone completely unfamiliar with the terrain could guess as much from the large looming mountain in the distance.
But not even Takeru could work out where on File Island they'd landed.
'Not that it really matters.' Miyako shrugged, her partner having digivolved while passing through the gate as he always did and was now a Hawkmon shaking his feathered head. 'We're only here to check for the sky and any glaring problems on land, then head back to Koushiro's.'
They all turned to the sky, which was the same blue canvas it always was. Unassuming, it had failed to grab their attention like the real world sky had managed to – save for the silence that hung over them. 'I guess that's fine then..,' Miyako noted, 'but where is everyone?'
The Chosen looked at each other. 'Maybe it's a deserted area,' Hikari offered. 'Or it's a school day or something like that.'
'I don't think so.' Iori went closer to one of the trees, fingering the bark where it had been hastily scraped. 'It looks like something ran past here in a hurry.'
'You think so?' Armadillomon asked. 'They weren't just using the tree as a scratching post or something?'
'Let me see,' Tailmon said, peering at the scratch marks. 'Those sorts of marks would be more vertical. I think Iori's right.'
The boy blushed a little at the praise. The others looked carefully around. Other trees, some likewise disturbed, surrounded them. A few vines, some snapped, others whole. Flowers: some trampled but the rest whole and vibrant. And that was all. No digimon hiding up in the branches or beneath the foliage. No scorch marks on the ground, or indeed anything that suggested an attack of any sort. Nothing that answered the question of what caused the inhabiting digimon to flee so suddenly – if, indeed, that was what had happened.
'Geez.' Daisuke dragged the scuff of his sneaker in the soil. 'Rampaging digimon and burning skies are usually easy to spot.'
'Umm…Daisuke.' V-mon tugged his pants leg.
'What?'
'I think the sky's burning now.'
The heads of the Chosen snapped up – and V-mon was right. Specks of pink forced its way past the smooth blanket of blue, slowly darkening and spreading quickly. And the speed of that transformation was astounding. Within minutes, it resembled the sky of the real world, the one Ken had thrown back his curtains to and called the others who'd seen the same sort of sky.
And then it went grey and black like an approaching storm that drove all discolouration away, and the Chosen stared blankly at the sky as a hole opened up above them and dropped a load.
As it fell, they realised it wasn't something inanimate but a dragon-like being: huge, rivalling the size of Omegamon, with white and gold armour and purple wings which spread to slow and control his descent. But he came closer still, and the Chosen and their digimon dashed into the woods when it looked as though the newcomer was aiming for the clearing as his landing pad.
And indeed that was the case, as he landed gracefully and with a great gale of wind from the final beats of his wings, causing the trees they'd sheltered behind to groan and their own frail bodies to cry out from the stinging pain. Perhaps those used to flying speedily: Ken, Miyako, and their digimon, felt it the least, but feel it still they did. The digimon that had just landed was many times more powerful a flyer then they.
And it seemed he heard their discomfort because he looked towards them, then approached: slowly and with care. 'Chosen of this world,' he said, his voice deep and rumbling and clouted with latent emotions. Somehow, it was like the voice of an old wise grandparent: the sort of person whose lap children could sit upon, and whose lips they could hear deep meaningful stories from. At the same time though, the sheer power within it made the children especially think of being scolded by such a person: a person who would not shout at them but rather speak quietly with voice laden with disappointment – that voice that made a guilty child feel even guiltier as opposed to rebellious reprimand was given by a sharper voice.
And when he spoke no more, Daisuke worked his mouth into a not-quite squeaky: 'yes?' No-one else tried. They'd been awed enough to meet Gennai for the first time, and Azulongmon, and when Impaildramon had first digivolved, but none of those situations was quite like a strange but seemingly friendly power in this sort of situation.
The stranger chuckled. 'You are an interesting child,' he said to Daisuke, before addressing the group as a whole. 'Are you here for the crisis that befalls this world?'
'Crisis?' Daisuke repeated, before anyone else could answer. 'No, we're just here because the sky looks like its burning.'
The dragon-like digimon looked up to see the hole he'd come through close and the sky embrace its usual blue attire again. 'I see no burning.' He returned a questioning gaze to the Chosen.
They looked up. Indeed, the sky looked as it had when they'd arrived. 'But – ' Miyako began, confused, 'it had been like ours just a second ago.' She turned to her partner. 'I'm not seeing things, right Hawkmon?'
'Not unless we all suffer from the same delusions,' Hawkmon replied.
'I saw it too,' Hikari said. 'We all did, after V-mon pointed it out. But when we arrived the sky was just like this.'
The Chosen looked at each other, tried to tease out the puzzle that stood before them while the stranger contemplated the sky once more. 'Burning,' he repeated to himself. 'I wonder if –'
He broke off as he heard rustling some ways away, and soon the others, less sensitive, could hear it as well. The trees stood still, but the smaller shrubs shivered from distant to near, marking the path of small approaching figures – and then Agumon and Gabumon stumbled through the last of the shrubs and in to the open.
Hikari and Takeru quickly scooped up their brothers' digimon. 'Why are you here?' Takeru asked.
Gabumon shook his head. 'We just felt we had to be,' he replied.
'That's right,' Agumon agreed. 'Like something was calling us this way, asking for our help.'
V-mon frowned and shook his head again. 'Now that you mention it, I think I feel it too.'
'Really?' Daisuke looked at his partner. 'Who?'
'Beats me,' V-mon replied.
'That's a big help.'
'I'm trying,' V-mon pouted.
'I know you are buddy.' Daisuke looked around. 'All of this is too –'
A small shriek from Miyako interrupted him.
'What?'
'The sky's going back,' Miyako replied, pointing to where the first of the red was appearing again. The stranger, who until then had been watching the children and digimon with a strange expression on his face, snapped his head up to watch the sky transform beneath his gaze.
'I see,' he said finally, once it resembled the real world state once more. What he saw, he didn't say; he simply looked around, saw something of note, and struck his path. 'Follow me. I will take you to UlforceV-dramon.'
The Chosen looked blank, but the name meant something to the digimon for their faces flooded with awe. 'UlforceV-dramon is a legend amongst digimon,' Tailmon whispered, finally, when it seemed no-one else would explain things to their baffled partners. 'He is greater in status and might than even the Harmonious Ones, and it is said he only descends to the digital world in its most dire moments.'
They all processed that, looking up at the sky that suddenly looked more sinister to them. 'It's really that bad?' Takeru asked, finally.
Ken said nothing, but he was thinking about his dream again.
.
Taichi looked impatiently at Koushiro's desk clock. It had been a good half an hour since the others had left, and if all they'd been doing was checking on the digital world, they should have been back. Except they weren't – nor had they sent an email or a distress signal spelling danger.
He hoped that meant they had simply gotten distracted by something and weren't in some sort of trouble. And he knew he could trust the others: Daisuke didn't have the coolest head on his shoulders, but one could always count on him. Miyako was much the same. And at least one of the others would remember to alert the older generation if something had happened, he was sure. If not Hikari or Takeru who had left worrying brothers behind, then Iori or Ken probably would.
And he didn't like waiting. Not one little bit. Especially not when his younger sister and his juniors were possibly in trouble and he couldn't see or help.
'Calm down,' Yamato said from beside him, but a sidelong glance told Taichi that Yamato was equally tense.
'Speak for yourself.' It was a light jest, but Yamato cracked a smile. Surprisingly though – or perhaps not – it was Mimi who really distracted them.
'Hey,' she said suddenly, like someone would when noticing something interesting at the mall. 'The sky's back to normal.'
The other five teenagers rushed to the window, Koushiro's desk chair skidding back to hit a wall. They all stared at the sky: freshly blue – and yet, the last time they'd seen it, it had definitely been that horrid botch of red. 'Were we panicking about nothing?' Sora asked, mystified, as Koushiro ran through instant hypotheses in his head. None of them understood: they'd seen nothing happen at all – unless their teammates in the digital world had done something.
Koushiro rushed back to his computer. The DigiGate was still open, and he could see nothing unusual about the scene it fed back to him. It was only the trunks of trees, somewhat out of focus: it could only show what was in the peripheral vision of the television screen that contained the gate after all, and that was rather limited. He had toyed with the idea of expanding that, but had no viable ideas as of yet nor a real need for it. It would make surveillance easier – but it was a time of peace and such measures shouldn't have been necessary to begin with.
'The sky's turning back again!' Jyou said, sounding panicked. 'Look! I can see red dots!'
'You're being paranoid –' Yamato began, before spotting the patches himself as they expanded and became more visible. 'Oh.'
Sora shivered, though like all the others she'd dressed snugly for the winter weather and Koushiro's mother had turned the central heating on for them. And it wasn't the cold: it was the red spreading across the sky again like that cup of orange juice one couldn't quite keep from spilling all over the tablecloth and carpet below.
Mimi stood up as well. With everyone gathered at the window, she no longer had a good view sitting down. And she could see the dramatic difference once she stood: already it looked closer to the sky she'd walked under to Koushiro's place than the one she'd lived under for the rest of her house.
For the others, they'd watched the startlingly fast transformation without any idea about the force or reason driving. But they did know it was captivating: enough for the six of them to stand by the window and stare until it was the red and black that had spurred them into their meeting before – but this time, it seemed to spell something darker for them. Maybe it was the lack of the other six, still in the digital world. Maybe it was the lack of any digimon beside them: their partners were in the digital world as well, looking after things. And the younger Chosen had of course taken their partners with them.
The elder ones only had an open gate that sat unchanging but forgotten on Koushiro's computer screen, and the digivices they carried with them always. But the sky had grasped their attention tight: so tight none of them noticed the soft flashes coming from two of the digivices.
.
'They're here,' UlforceV-dramon said without looking up, but he had meant Omegamon and Magnamon. When Centalmon opened the door, it was instead to admit Dynasmon followed by six Chosen and eight partner digimon.
Duftmon nodded his greetings to Dynasmon before searching the children. 'Our brethren have been reduced to this?' he asked with contempt. 'Working with the humans is one thing, but become their slaves is –'
'Enough,' UlforceV-dramon said sharply, turning away from the pedestal and stepping down. 'Would they be our slaves instead?' Without waiting for an answer, he continued: 'It was up to us to choose our way of omniscience in this world. This is what we chose.'
Slightly mollified but not entirely convinced, Duftmon bowed his head and withdrew from the conversation. UlforceV-dramon turned to the children and their digimon next, an awkward and confused collection by the door. 'Welcome,' he said warmly to them.
'You've arrived before I called you,' said a more familiar voice with a chuckle.
'Gennai!' the children cried, somewhat relieved. Being in the presence of three so powerful-looking digimon that weren't their partners or allies they were terribly familiar with was rather intimidating despite the reputation and confidence they'd gained through their adventures as Chosen children. 'It's great to see you.'
'Better in other circumstances,' Gennai said gravely, before his lips twitched into a smile. 'But it is good to see you too.'
They crowded him, commenting on the sky in this world and in their own, and asking questions. Gennai held up a hand. 'We will explain,' he said. 'After a few more matters are cleared up.'
'Then I will take my leave,' Duftmon said. 'I have matters in my own world to attend to. If Belphemon's egg hatches, we will be in a crisis of our own.'
'If we can assist,' UlforceV-dramon said gravely, 'we will.'
Duftmon inclined his head and departed through the door Centalmon opened for him. Dynasmon stepped forward, and UlforceV-dramon greeted him thankfully. 'How are things in your world, Dynasmon?' he asked.
'Uneventful now,' Dynasmon replied. 'But the world had taken a lot of damage from Lucemon's realm.'
'It has been too long.' UlforceV-dramon shook his head. 'Come; tell me.'
They went to the pedestal together, whispering to each other in low voices, and Gennai drew the children and their digimon towards Centalmon. 'Here is close enough,' he explained, turning back to the pedestal now that a safe distance had been put between them and it. 'The power of the Royal Knights is something that even Azulongmon's core cannot match.'
They all remembered Azulongmon's core: that power surging through their bodies, unlocking those latent ultimate forms and sending Paildramon into a mega evolution…and then an even stronger stage. They remembered it making WarGreymon once more, long after the loaned power of the crests that had allowed that dig volution had faded into the structure of the digital world.
So they stayed back, because that power was not being gifted to them but merely used before them, and none of them desired to be caught in a crossfire that could see them dead or worse. But all of them were fascinated: they knew nothing about "Royal Knights", but Gennai seemed to trust those mysterious beings, whoever they were, and it sounded as though they were even more powerful than the Harmonious Ones.
Regardless, curiosity was as much a sin as it was a virtue, and not all of them could quietly wait for their answers. Iori was content to; so was his partner, Armadillamon. Tailmon too felt she had no need for haste, but it seemed Hikari had a question or two. She was looking at the statues; Magnamon in particular, looking as large as life save for the lack of colour in that grey stone form, and Omegamon who she'd only seen on computer screens looking much the same as she knew.
She pointed at it anyway. 'Is that Omegamon?'
Takeru, the only one present to have seen Omegamon in person - since Patamon had been unconscious at the time - looked thoughtfully and nodded. It did look like Omegamon to him, even if he couldn't get a good look because of where it was. While Magamon's was the second on the right side of the hall, separated from them only by one other (and one they didn't recognise in the least), Omegamon was in the same line but right at the end. Takeru followed them back: there were six on the left as well, and one in front of the pedestal and its steps, looking almost as though it was holding the platform up itself. It might have been too, Takeru noted. It wasn't as though they could see the subtleties of that design.
'Thirteen in total,' he said. 'Including Omegamon and Magnamon…and Dynasmon, Duftmon and…that other one.' He realised he didn't know the name of the blue winged digimon.
'He is UlforceV-dramon,' Gennai said, drawing the attention of even the uncurious ones. 'And those thirteen statues are representations of the thirteen Royal Knights. They are an order established before the history of the universe to maintain its complex balance and barriers between worlds, similarly to us except we maintain a different sort of balance.'
'Huh?' Daisuke blinked, then shook his head. 'Balancing balances? We could really use Koushiro right now.'
Miyako rolled her eyes, though she looked a little nervous. No-one could blame her; they all felt a little nervous, felt the pressure of those powers on the other side of the room, how quickly they'd met with Gennai, and, most importantly, the phenomenon that had brought them to this point in the first place. 'Different things need balancing,' she explained. 'Take an equation…' She shook her head. 'Nah, you wouldn't have covered that yet. Cooking then. Something simple, like tea.'
Daisuke nodded, a little lost. Cooking he knew. What Miyako was trying to say, he didn't.
'You need to boil the water. If you don't boil it enough, the tea leaves or bag won't simmer properly. And if you boil it too much, water will evaporate and you lose water.' Of course, that's why you turned the stove off as soon as the water had fully boiled. 'And then the tea bags or leaves: leave a bag or the leaves in too long, the tea gets really bitter. Put too many bags or leaves, same thing. Don't put enough or leave for long enough, then it's really watery. And of course there's the perfect amount of sugar and milk to add in too…'
'Lots of things to be exactly right.' Daisuke nodded. 'I got it; thanks.'
'I'm available for tutoring if you need me,' she volleyed back with a grin, before flushing suddenly. 'Sorry, I got carried away.'
In the few seconds of silence that followed, Ken asked his own question. 'What is it you balance? And they?'
'We balance the forces of light and darkness in every world,' Gennai explained. 'The optimal balance was set in the original world - when the universe consisted of just one world I mean - and that balance is what we try to maintain in all the current worlds.'
'Worlds like the real and digital worlds?' Miyako asked. 'And the dark ocean and who knows how many other worlds too? Tailmon explained this earlier; how everything will turn into darkness if the balance goes off kilter.'
'Darkness is a poor choice of word.' Gennai frowned a little. 'Though correct in human terms I suppose. In truth, light and darkness have nothing to do with good or evil or anything of the sort: they're simply two opposing powers that, in tandem, create a viable system. Light is what we can see, touch, feel and smell. Darkness is the invisible framework that holds it up.'
'Then the amount of darkness in each world far outweighs the amount of light,' Ken surmised, 'because an object can exist in a single plane but must still be supported by all existing planes. Like how you can make a straight line on a two-dimensional grid: that doesn't change the grid from being two-dimensional.'
'Dimension is another poor word,' Gennai noted. 'You'll find that a lot of words you are accustomed to using can mean entirely different things in different contexts. Darkness is one of the more problematic ones, being interpreted all too often as "evil".'
'In the world I come from,' Dynasmon said suddenly, his voice booming across the hall as UlforceV-dramon turned his full attention to the pedestal, 'there is a Chosen for the element of darkness. And without the miracle that boy created, our worlds would have been lost.'
'It appears all our worlds have been under strain of late,' UlforceV-dramon commented sorrowfully, straightening up. 'More bad tidings to carry to the rest of our brethren.' He made no further comment on that matter. 'We no longer know how much time is left to us to prepare for what approaches.'
'What's coming?' Daisuke asked. 'Vamdemon again? Hasn't he gotten his butt kicked enough?' He didn't know why he remembered the vampire at that moment, but he did.
Ken considered that. It would explain why that same sky had, in his dreams, felt somewhat familiar to him. At the same time though, he didn't see a strong association with Vamdemon and fire in the least. Blood yes, but not fire. And yet they'd all described the sky as "on fire" more than once. Red could be blood, he reflected. Blood, fire, passion…it could be a lot of things. So why do we return to fire?
Out loud, it was Gennai who responded to Daisuke's questions, and unlike the humans he had no need to theorise because he knew. 'Not Vamdemon,' he said. 'This is an enemy you never beat.'
Ken felt a cold shiver slide down his back and wrap itself around his waist. An enemy they hadn't defeated… That could only be –
'Demon.'