AN: I hate reading ANs so I'll keep this short. This will be a HP/Overworld/Digimon crossover; HP because it's easy to write, Overworld because it pwns, and Digimon because I can. Pretty standard prologue for now, though I might change it later. No pairings plzthx.

A tale is told of twin boys born to different mothers.

One is dark by nature, the other light. One is rich, the other poor. One is harsh, the other gentle. One is forever youthful, the other old before his time.

One is mortal.

They share no bond of blood or sympathy, but they are twins nonetheless.

They each live without knowing they are brothers.

They each die fighting the blind god.

—Matthew Stover, Blade of Tyshalle

PROLOGUE

.:a tale is told:.

Harry appeared silently in the middle of a clearing. After a quick look around to confirm he was in the right place, he started toward a hole in the side of a mountain several meters away.

This is it.

"Lumos."

Lit by wandlight, the tunnel was barely wide enough for Harry to squeeze in sideways. Once inside, however, it opened up a bit into a fairly narrow corridor.

Harry walked.

Harry twisted out of the way of two spells coming in opposite directions, then ducked to avoid a third.

Traps.

It made sense – the locket had already been stolen once before, after all. Voldemort would not take any chances.

Here the tunnel split off in two different directions: one going upward and to the left, the other seeming to turn backwards on itself. Harry followed the twinge in his scar and went left. Suddenly he felt the ambient waves of magic around him pulse once before stilling.

Detection spell.

Fuck! Voldemort would know he was here – might be on his way right now. Harry panicked a bit and briefly considered giving up – maybe coming back later if he could – but realized Voldemort might move the Horcrux again. That could mean another month of searching, maybe more.

No. He had to go on.

"Voldemort."

Ten meters to the side, sharp crimson eyes flicked up and forward.

"Potter. What a…pleasant surprise." Sarcasm, of course.

Feeling almost resigned, Harry pulled out his secondary wand. "…Likewise."

Harry darted behind a small transfigured boulder, out of breath and in pain. His right hand burned from poisoned cuts, blood dripped from his left shoulder and back, and he was blind in one eye. His left leg was completely numb, and he was pretty sure the purple curse Voldemort cast had scrambled his insides if the icy cold searing of his stomach was any clue.

He could only afford a few seconds' rest, so he quickly splashed a healing potion on his hand and charmed a section of the boulder transparent. Voldemort didn't seem to be doing a lot better than he was, but it was clear that the duel wouldn't last much longer – and Harry wouldn't win. He glanced around; the Horcrux was in the corner across from him. There was sure to be extra protections around it, but he planned to take those down by force.

"What's the matter, Potter? Tired already?" Voldemort's voice was cold and thin, and Harry saw him sneer. He didn't bother answering.

Harry snapped up a blue shield just in time to catch a pulsing globe of magic – a destruction curse – and three pellets of muddy yellow light that were probably more poisoned cutting hexes. Thinking quickly, Harry conjured several hundred muggle sewing needles and banished them all while the spell magic was still in the air, and then threw his last enchanted dagger before ducking back down behind the boulder.

After another second in which the needles were vanished and the dagger barely knocked off course, Harry felt a disturbance in the air. Immediately he jumped up apparated away.

Directly behind Voldemort.

Boom.

Spinning around, Harry summoned one of his daggers lying on the floor and aimed at Voldemort's chest – but his aim was off, likely due to his bad eye – the blade sliced into his upper arm instead. Voldemort growled in pain or anger and started throwing spells again while Harry tried to ignore his own injuries. Harry pulled up his shield, but not quite fast enough – an orange spark made it through and the world flashed white. With the lack of distance between them and no boulder to deflect the nastier dark curses, Harry wore down quickly. He stumbled, slipping on a puddle of mixed blood and snake venom, and slammed into the ground. With Voldemort towering above him and few options left, Harry came to a quick decision.

Harry pulled out his phoenix feather wand and backed up against the wall, barely dodging a Killing Curse. "Dirusnex fiendfyre!" he barked, and white heat exploded from the tips of both wands. It missed Voldemort by inches. Both smirked, Voldemort thinking he had misaimed again and Harry knowing he had not.

The fiery stream shifted into the shape of a phoenix halfway through, striking the Horcrux dead on. A horrible high-pitched ringing reverberated through the room coming from the burning locket as the abnormally large magical fire licked down the platforms and across the ground.

The ringing grew louder and more intense, instantly giving Harry a very painful headache.

When Voldemort realized what Potter had done, he snarled and faced him. Seeing his enemy was distracted, he took advantage.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry's head snapped up from where he'd been kneeling against the wall breathing painfully from the magical backlash and many aggravated wounds. His eyes widened as he saw the thicker-than-usual jet of malevolent green light headed toward him.

Harry tried to disapparate, but something was blocking him. He tried to remember when he'd been hit with an anti-Disapparition jinx, but as the emerald light came closer he discovered he didn't really care all that much. The curse was aimed too low for him to dodge, and the boulder across from him was too big to summon quickly. Scrambling for ideas, he conjured a small mirror in front of him and prayed that would work.

The glass shattered.