Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.
Author's Note: I was inspired to write this story after reading Black's Viral State, available on this site. This story is set in the world of seasons 1 and 2, both the Real and Digital worlds, and in an AU of my own devising later. The tone of this story is deliberately gritty and somewhat dark. I hope you enjoy reading it, and please review! --------------------------------------------------------
Prologue: The Stranger
The breezes were cold, but the stranger had felt colder winds in worse places than this dingy alley. His clothes, though totally inappropriate to his setting, were proof against most forms of heat and cold. Above him gleamed a scattering of stars, all that could be seen of the blue-black sky between the two run-down tenements on either side of him.
Black shoes gleaming with polish stepped carefully around the piles of trash and worse offal littering the cracked ground. Expensive cologne battled the stink of this place, and of the odd homeless person who made it a temporary home. Most of the homeless here were asleep, or too addled by drink and drugs to care about him. One or two stared in hostile challenge, only to back down before the cool condescension of the stranger's smirk and the blank gaze of those mirrored black sunglasses.
Oh yes, the stranger was confident. A figure as black as night that was slowly fading, lit only fitfully in the reflected glare of a distant streetlamp or an upstairs window, the stranger seemed as much a part of the night as the shadows themselves. He moved silently, but not silently enough for some people.
"Hey! Who the hell are you?!"
The stranger turned his black-haired head, rolling unseen eyes as six human figures emerged from a narrow side alley, backed by five digimon. One was tall and lanky, one shorter and fatter, the third, a muscular sort with the beginnings of a beard. The other three were younger, and a couple of them wore, of all things, goggles on their heads. The six quickly blocked off the exit of his path, the younger ones sniggering amongst themselves, two of the older ones just looking tough. The digimon spread out at the feet of their respective partners. It was the lanky human who stepped forward.
"I said, who the hell are you?!" The strident youngster raised two large fists, leather jacket creaking and the length of chain in his hand clinking. His boys took a menacing step forward, while the homeless behind the dark-haired young man, those who were clear-headed enough to, scurried for cover.
"And if I told you it was none of your business, what then?" The voice was easy, casual, gleaming white teeth parted in a smirk. He made no movement, even as the muscular one thrust a hand into his jacket and the digimon bristled. The stranger wasn't concerned with any of the gang before him. They were bugs.
"Then I'd say you're a dead man. Get 'em!" As the gang moved forward, a new voice cut in.
"Are you sure about that?" The voice was deep and growling, with a strange, upper-crust British accent, and it came from above. The punks froze in their tracks. A second later the light of the stars, and even the streetlights, was eclipsed by...by something. A vast shadow, that brought with it a cold wind. Before anyone could move, there was a mighty crash. Then came a shout of rage and disbelief.
Before everyone's eyes the gang leader's partner, a powerful Devidramon, was disintegrating into blue particles of data. The data particles were streaming upwards, flowing into the shadows, towards a...a figure. A figure that had swooped from the air above and coalesced into a humanoid figure. The data stream lasted but a few seconds, long enough for the Devidramon to be completely absorbed.
"W-wh-wh-what was that?!" The younger kids were just standing there, gape- mouthed. No one was looking, so no one saw the stranger's hands move with blurring speed, drawing two sleek black pistols. One shot knocked the gun from the muscular goon's limp hand. As the goon cursed, the figure stood atop the fire escape and scaly wings flared. The figure fell.
In the few seconds it was visible, the goons had the sight of slitted golden eyes, of scales as blue-black as the morning dusk and fangs that could take a man's arm off with ease. A rustling flare of purple cloth as the creature's cape came forward, then a flourish as the cape was flung back, and two simple words.
"Chronal Barrage!"
Energy bolts, a storm of them, countless, lanced out from that cape. The storm tore chunks from the brick wall, from the stained pavement, and from the flesh of those unfortunate enough to be caught in it. Two of the rookies, a Hagurumon and a Kunemon, were deleted instantly, and their data flowed into the falling figure. Two gang members, the muscular one and one of the younger kids, were down and bleeding. The others were paralyzed with fear.
The stranger, who'd prudently stepped back from the energy blasts, now stepped forward again, tapping his gun butt lightly against his hip as the caped one landed. "Wondered where you were partner."
"That Devidramon irritated me for a few seconds, but it was nothing major."
"A lowly Champion? I should hope not. Anyways, time to dispose of this trash." Both guns came up, lightning-fast. The caped digimon nodded and spoke again.
"Pendulum Halberds!" Taloned, three-fingered hands flicked to either side and golden whips lanced out. Each whip abruptly snapped taut, forming two golden staffs, each tipped with a clock. Each clock-head featured a spike, and the sides were fitted with sharp axe-blades. Both halberds came up in crossed fashion. Both human and digimon advanced forward and the gang, most of them, finally realized they were in trouble. The two younger ones broke and ran into the oncoming dawn, trailed by the youngest's Candlemon. The caped digimon ended that poor rookie with a flick of his wrist, turning one his halberds back into a whip, with the spike on the clock-head embedding itself into the hopping candle-like digimon. A few seconds later and its' data was loaded.
The human was not idle. Two gangsters, the short one and the muscular one, were laid low in the time it took for the halberd to find its' mark. A twist of the wrist and the paralyzed youngster went down in the time it took the whip to lash back and become a staff again. The surviving gang digimon on the scene: a Demidevimon and a Gizamon, tried to form a last defensive barrier around the fleeing gang leader.
"Demi Dart!"
"Electric Stun Blast!"
The dragon digimon and the human both scoffed as the needle and the electric burst flew past, one to strike against a wall and fall harmless, another to fizzle out completely. The dragon leaped high and brought his halberd down in a sweeping arc that caught the fleeing Demidevimon and dissected it. The human twisted his wrists and took down the gang leader and the Gizamon in one fluid movement, leaving only data for his scaly partner to load and more fodder for the alley rats.
"Well that was boring. Come on partner, we've got some traitors to bring in." He blew the smoke from his pistols, twirled them, sheathed them, and then tapped a button on the silver-plated wristwatch device he wore. A circular globe appeared holographically in the air above the device. A blue dot blinked sporadically, heading northeast. The stranger sheathed his guns and started out at a purposeful stalking pace. His draconic partner blurred for a second and was gone, leaving the alley to the dark, the stink, and the destitute.
Author's Note: For the dragon's accent, think Sean Connery.
Author's Note: I was inspired to write this story after reading Black's Viral State, available on this site. This story is set in the world of seasons 1 and 2, both the Real and Digital worlds, and in an AU of my own devising later. The tone of this story is deliberately gritty and somewhat dark. I hope you enjoy reading it, and please review! --------------------------------------------------------
Prologue: The Stranger
The breezes were cold, but the stranger had felt colder winds in worse places than this dingy alley. His clothes, though totally inappropriate to his setting, were proof against most forms of heat and cold. Above him gleamed a scattering of stars, all that could be seen of the blue-black sky between the two run-down tenements on either side of him.
Black shoes gleaming with polish stepped carefully around the piles of trash and worse offal littering the cracked ground. Expensive cologne battled the stink of this place, and of the odd homeless person who made it a temporary home. Most of the homeless here were asleep, or too addled by drink and drugs to care about him. One or two stared in hostile challenge, only to back down before the cool condescension of the stranger's smirk and the blank gaze of those mirrored black sunglasses.
Oh yes, the stranger was confident. A figure as black as night that was slowly fading, lit only fitfully in the reflected glare of a distant streetlamp or an upstairs window, the stranger seemed as much a part of the night as the shadows themselves. He moved silently, but not silently enough for some people.
"Hey! Who the hell are you?!"
The stranger turned his black-haired head, rolling unseen eyes as six human figures emerged from a narrow side alley, backed by five digimon. One was tall and lanky, one shorter and fatter, the third, a muscular sort with the beginnings of a beard. The other three were younger, and a couple of them wore, of all things, goggles on their heads. The six quickly blocked off the exit of his path, the younger ones sniggering amongst themselves, two of the older ones just looking tough. The digimon spread out at the feet of their respective partners. It was the lanky human who stepped forward.
"I said, who the hell are you?!" The strident youngster raised two large fists, leather jacket creaking and the length of chain in his hand clinking. His boys took a menacing step forward, while the homeless behind the dark-haired young man, those who were clear-headed enough to, scurried for cover.
"And if I told you it was none of your business, what then?" The voice was easy, casual, gleaming white teeth parted in a smirk. He made no movement, even as the muscular one thrust a hand into his jacket and the digimon bristled. The stranger wasn't concerned with any of the gang before him. They were bugs.
"Then I'd say you're a dead man. Get 'em!" As the gang moved forward, a new voice cut in.
"Are you sure about that?" The voice was deep and growling, with a strange, upper-crust British accent, and it came from above. The punks froze in their tracks. A second later the light of the stars, and even the streetlights, was eclipsed by...by something. A vast shadow, that brought with it a cold wind. Before anyone could move, there was a mighty crash. Then came a shout of rage and disbelief.
Before everyone's eyes the gang leader's partner, a powerful Devidramon, was disintegrating into blue particles of data. The data particles were streaming upwards, flowing into the shadows, towards a...a figure. A figure that had swooped from the air above and coalesced into a humanoid figure. The data stream lasted but a few seconds, long enough for the Devidramon to be completely absorbed.
"W-wh-wh-what was that?!" The younger kids were just standing there, gape- mouthed. No one was looking, so no one saw the stranger's hands move with blurring speed, drawing two sleek black pistols. One shot knocked the gun from the muscular goon's limp hand. As the goon cursed, the figure stood atop the fire escape and scaly wings flared. The figure fell.
In the few seconds it was visible, the goons had the sight of slitted golden eyes, of scales as blue-black as the morning dusk and fangs that could take a man's arm off with ease. A rustling flare of purple cloth as the creature's cape came forward, then a flourish as the cape was flung back, and two simple words.
"Chronal Barrage!"
Energy bolts, a storm of them, countless, lanced out from that cape. The storm tore chunks from the brick wall, from the stained pavement, and from the flesh of those unfortunate enough to be caught in it. Two of the rookies, a Hagurumon and a Kunemon, were deleted instantly, and their data flowed into the falling figure. Two gang members, the muscular one and one of the younger kids, were down and bleeding. The others were paralyzed with fear.
The stranger, who'd prudently stepped back from the energy blasts, now stepped forward again, tapping his gun butt lightly against his hip as the caped one landed. "Wondered where you were partner."
"That Devidramon irritated me for a few seconds, but it was nothing major."
"A lowly Champion? I should hope not. Anyways, time to dispose of this trash." Both guns came up, lightning-fast. The caped digimon nodded and spoke again.
"Pendulum Halberds!" Taloned, three-fingered hands flicked to either side and golden whips lanced out. Each whip abruptly snapped taut, forming two golden staffs, each tipped with a clock. Each clock-head featured a spike, and the sides were fitted with sharp axe-blades. Both halberds came up in crossed fashion. Both human and digimon advanced forward and the gang, most of them, finally realized they were in trouble. The two younger ones broke and ran into the oncoming dawn, trailed by the youngest's Candlemon. The caped digimon ended that poor rookie with a flick of his wrist, turning one his halberds back into a whip, with the spike on the clock-head embedding itself into the hopping candle-like digimon. A few seconds later and its' data was loaded.
The human was not idle. Two gangsters, the short one and the muscular one, were laid low in the time it took for the halberd to find its' mark. A twist of the wrist and the paralyzed youngster went down in the time it took the whip to lash back and become a staff again. The surviving gang digimon on the scene: a Demidevimon and a Gizamon, tried to form a last defensive barrier around the fleeing gang leader.
"Demi Dart!"
"Electric Stun Blast!"
The dragon digimon and the human both scoffed as the needle and the electric burst flew past, one to strike against a wall and fall harmless, another to fizzle out completely. The dragon leaped high and brought his halberd down in a sweeping arc that caught the fleeing Demidevimon and dissected it. The human twisted his wrists and took down the gang leader and the Gizamon in one fluid movement, leaving only data for his scaly partner to load and more fodder for the alley rats.
"Well that was boring. Come on partner, we've got some traitors to bring in." He blew the smoke from his pistols, twirled them, sheathed them, and then tapped a button on the silver-plated wristwatch device he wore. A circular globe appeared holographically in the air above the device. A blue dot blinked sporadically, heading northeast. The stranger sheathed his guns and started out at a purposeful stalking pace. His draconic partner blurred for a second and was gone, leaving the alley to the dark, the stink, and the destitute.
Author's Note: For the dragon's accent, think Sean Connery.
