THE ELEGANT KNIGHT
By
Gregory Wong
It has been three years since Hypnos, the Monster Makers, the Tamers, and their Digimon banished the malevolent, nihilistic electronic entity known as the D-Reaper back into a dark core of the Digital World, neutralized and a threat to no one.
The Tamers have been reunited with their Digimon, and have overcome their most recent adversary, the Parismon Invasion Swarm. They are continuing their lives, happy to be together once more.
The Digital World has been slowly recovering from the decimation caused by the D-Reaper. The Digimon Sovereigns, Azulongmon, Zhuqiaomon, Baihumon, and Ebonwumon, exhausted from their battle with the D-Reaper, had entered a state of hibernation. It is not known when they will emerge from their slumber.
Before they entered their sleep, the Four created and charged the Celestials, Royal Knights, Great Dragons, and Digiworld Wardens to safeguard the Digital World.
The Royal Knights, led by Alphamon King Dragon, count among their number Omnimon, Gallantmon, Magnamon, UlforceVeedramon, Dynasmon, Crusadermon, Kentarosmon, and Craniummon. Alphamon still awaits the day when he can complete the circle of Thirteen Royal Knights.
However, something has been moving in the shadows. Something that bears a terrible hunger, a terrifying thirst for vengeance.
It is only a matter of time.
Argh! Every single bleeding time she tried to weed the flowerbeds, the bloody flowers ended up bloody dying! And this was supposed to be her method of relaxation!
Crusadermon shook her head and tossed the spade to the ground. These bright lavender flowers were the one species she couldn't seem to get right. Ah, guess it was time to scout around the woodland area to hire a gardener who was competent with these plants.
Oh, sod it. She'd only gotten those buggering plants because she wanted a challenge. She really preferred simple roses. Ah...
She heard a rhythmic thumping sound from behind her. Hmm? She turned around. Ah, just one of her Gladimon soldiers.
"Yes?" she said questioningly to the Champion.
"Ma'am, Lord Alphamon has establish a communications link with you. He wishes to speak with you at the soonest possible moment."
Hmm... "Any disclosure on the subject?"
The Warrior Digimon shook his head. "None, ma'am. And, also, Lord Dynasmon also established a contact. Regent Kenite relayed that Alphamon wishes to speak with you, and Lord Dynasmon agreed to wait until you are finished, Ma'am."
Ah, it wasn't even ten o'clock yet and already she was getting communiqués from the other knights. Such was the life of a Royal Knight.
She looked down at herself. She wasn't in armor. It wouldn't do to talk with Lord Alphamon while wearing a simple tunic, plus a thin layer of soil that she'd picked up after, ah, murdering some dirt clods. Better clean up and make herself presentable.
Shouldn't take more than a minute since, after all, she was one of the fastest of the Thirteen. True, she didn't build up the same straight-line velocity as Magnamon or UlforceVeedramon, but she was much, much more agile at high speeds than they were. And they had X-Antibodies, so by rights they should be doing better. Silly men.
She floated up to her room—the windows were very large for just that reason—and began to fling on her gold-filigreed, pink-hued, fully-body, Digizoid armor. The integral, telepathically controlled ribbon-blades waved around as she stuffed—in a dignified manner, of course—her hands into her gauntlets. After snapping the clasps of armor, she reached for her shield, the small, buckler-like Pile Bunker.
Ah, perfect. Wait, no, hold a second. Bugger. A piece of fuzz was clinging to her forearm. She flicked it off. There, now everything was perfect. And it had only taken a minute, too. Quickness, quickness, quickness.
She leaped through her open window—dramatic exit—and took flight. She maneuvered around the grounds until she came up on the communications room of the castle. She settled down to the ground.
Her personal stronghold—she'd been deemed able to command one only half a month ago, along with her friend, Dynasmon—was located to the northeast of the main citadel of Alphamon, leader of the Royal Knights. Well, technically, it was only Nine Knights, but those four more were Lord Alphamon's goal. Hmm... Why thirteen, of all numbers? Why not ten, or twenty, or... nine? Thirteen was an unlucky number, anyway.
Anyway, her stronghold commanded a region to the northeast of the core of the knight-patrolled areas, a bit north of Dynasmon's own keep. The climate was a little too cold, but it could be grown into. To make up for that, though, there were the simply most delightful flowers...
Ahem.
A Knightmon and two Gladimon, on guard duty, stood outside the communications room. They gave her a respectful nod, and the Knightmon tapped lightly on the door. Despite its appearance as a low-tech oaken door, it dissolved into pixilated data, which reformed back into a slab of oak once she was inside. She nodded to the Gladimon who was managing the incoming communiqués. She watched the Champion click something, and suddenly a full-size holographic image of Lord Alphamon, the First Knight and Lord of the Thirteen, appeared in front of her.
"Greetings, Lady Crusadermon," said the deep, slightly reverberating voice of Lord Alphamon. "I trust you are well?"
She gave a slight respectful bow. "Greetings, Lord Alphamon. I am very well, thank you, and I trust you are, also?"
"Of course. I would not have it any other way."
She smiled behind her mask. For some reason, only when they talked did Alphamon reveal a bit of a humorous side. Maybe she was infectious. Imagine that.
"How can I be of service, sir?" she asked.
"I understand Dynasmon is still not yet fully recovered from the absorption of the X-Antibody?"
Humph. Scarcely two days ago Alphamon had given Dynasmon one of the X-Antibodies, the program-vaccines that had spontaneously appeared during the D-Reaper's rampage across the Digital World. Not only could a Digimon better resist the touch of death of the D-Reaper, but the Digimon who managed to get their hands—paws, claws, tentacles, pincers, what have you—on one of those programs also became more powerful.
Now that dear Dynasmon had absorbed one, he'd become, easily, the largest of the Knights. Frankly, it was disconcerting at first—she was one of the smaller knights, four inches shy of eight feet—and Dynasmon was close to nine feet tall. It was easy to get over, though. For all the physical changes, Dynasmon was still the noble, kind, slightly-humorous darling he'd always been, even before he'd become a knight.
It seemed, though that programming didn't like Dynasmon, and he'd been laid up for several days already since taking the X-Antibody. She'd actually talked to Dynasmon's Regent, Shar'las, about that.
"No sir, Dynasmon still isn't back to tip-top shape. I understand it's the digital equivalent to, er, an allergy."
She saw concern in Lord Alphamon's eyes. "Will he be all right?"
"Oh, no worries about that. He's sick right now—he said, and I quote, 'it feels like there're Sovereigns-damned ants having a riot in my stomach'—but he's recovering rapidly. I would hazard a guess that he will be back to full strength in another two or three days."
She saw the image of Alphamon nod. "He gave me the same estimate when I spoke with him, as well."
She nodded. "Well, in that case, it seems you didn't contact me to chit-chat about Dynasmon's stomach aches."
"No, I haven't, Crusadermon," she heard Alphamon say. Ah, The other knight looked quite a bit more... grim. Oh, this couldn't be good. "The Warden Valkyrimon from far north told me his scouts detected something crossing into our areas of responsibility. Specifically, Crusadermon, into your area."
Definitely not good. "Any ideas on what it might be?"
"Not much information. We know that it's at least high-tier Ultimate."
She shrugged. Whatever nasty little being was skulking around, it would take more than an Ultimate to do anything. Granted, as long as it wasn't a Kimeramon. Not too long ago another knight, Magnamon, had lost a loved one to a Kimeramon. Those things might be nominally Ultimates, but those damned things were as bloody awful as Megas.
Plus, they were terribly ugly. Andrea Dworkin ugly, in fact. Seeing those types of things was the downside to the TV hooked up in her room.
"I shall investigate, then," she told the hologram.
"I would advise against it, Crusadermon. Given the recent... spate of dark activity, I would suggest you go with a heavy guard. In fact, considering that the closest knight to you is suffering 'allergies', I strongly advise you to wait until Dynasmon is back on his feet again."
Eh? "Why, though, sir? I'm capable of handling myself quite handily, thank you very much."
"That's what Magnamon said."
A rather unnerving silence. Oh, sod it. "Lord Alphamon, I have jurisdiction over my area, and though I promise to be very careful when approaching this potential threat, I cannot promise that I'll do as you suggest. Unless you order it.
Silence again. Hmm, perhaps this was a bad idea? Was Alphamon going to—
Oh. The image of Lord Alphamon was nodding. "I leave it up to you, Crusadermon, but be careful."
"Yes, sir."
"Alphamon, out.
"Farewell."
The image of Alphamon faded away.
She took a glance outside. It looked like it was nearing dusk already. Hmm... Ah, yes. Whatever was crawling around out there could wait until morning. And, as a bonus, you could assemble a team to accompany her. Jolly good.
Oh, she almost forgot that Dynasmon was also trying to contact her. She waved at the technician, and this time a full-size image of Dynasmon X sprang up. "Ah, darling, good to see you!" she said to her friend.
"Ah, good to see you too, Crusadermon," the image of Dynasmon wheezed... painfully. The other knight looked awful, which, sadly, was a step better than two days ago. "So, only a few more days and I'll be back to my full power."
"Splendid! It has, you know, been dreadfully dull around here."
"What do you mean 'dull'?" Dynasmon snuffled. "If you wanted entertainment, I'd think you'd talk to, oh, I don't know... I just know it's not me."
"Oh, bollocks, Dynasmon. That very boring-ness is what makes you so smashing to be around."
She watched Dynasmon blink. "I don't know whether I've been insulted or complimented."
"It's your choice."
Dynasmon snorted, coughed, and they both started laughing. In the image, she saw Dynasmon's usually-invisible torso—he said it was some side effect of powering up his armor with his magical energies—flickering in and out of visibility. Very disconcerting. All that strength... and an invisible tummy?
She wasn't going anywhere near an X-Antibody as long as she had a say in it. The extra power would be nice, but she was powerful enough as it currently stood. She really didn't need it.
Besides, she had no idea what bloody awful form she'd take if she absorbed one, anyway. She liked the body she had now, thank you very much. Dynasmon X's invisible torso... hah!
After they finished chuckling, Dynasmon asked, "Alphamon told me about the Virus. What are you going to do?"
The large knight looked concerned. Hmm... "I'll... decide. I'm assembling an escort that will be ready to be leave at dawn tomorrow, but I don't know if I will or not. Considering what has happened to our Sovereign-aligned forces lately... it might be better to wait until you're over that monster of a cold."
"It is not a cold. I don't get colds. It's—"
"An allergy, darling. Don't deny it."
Dynasmon coughed, then chuckled. "If you do decide to patrol tomorrow, take care, Crusadermon."
"Ah, of course. I'm always careful. Good night, Dynasmon.
"Good night, Crusadermon," she heard Dynasmon said. Then the other knight sneezed. "I hope I get over this quickly."
"Indeed. Like I said, it's been a bloody bore without you, dearie."
They both laughed, and then she closed the connection.
Crusadermon sighed. What to do, what to do. Eh, probably sleep.
Or, perhaps, the TV, then sleep. Yes, that would be nice. She really wanted to know what that Simon Cowell man did. His wit was dry and perfect. Yes, oh yes.
"Kenite!" she called out.
"Ma'am?" she heard the gruff voice of her Knightmon regent behind her.
She turned around. "I'm retiring for the night. You have command."
"Yes, ma'am. Have a good night."
"Thank you."
She left the communication room and floated back up to her room. She shrugged off her armor, showered, and slipped into a tunic. Now...
She flopped on her bed—so delightfully soft and springy it was—and snatched up a molded plastic device.
She hit the power button. With a whir, a portion of the wall opposite the foot of the bed slid open and revealed a large screen. According to what she'd read, this cobbled-together contraption emulated something called a "high-definition television", and was able to access "cable television", "satellite TV", and some wonderful archive called "Youtube".
Well, to be honest, some of the things she saw on Youtube were so incredibly stupid it defied description. Why would a man do that to a bucking horse?
Hmm... what was on TV?
She flipped through some channels.
Click. "I'm the king of the wooooooorld!"
"No, Mr. DeCaprio, you're going to fall off of that high place and hurt yourself."
Click. "Well, Sanjaya, I think you're making excellent progress, and..."
"No, Sanjaya, go away. Even Dynasmon thinks you can't sing, and I think he's tone-deaf."
Click. "Next up, We have Carlos Mencia!"
"Oh, sod this. You lack wit, Carlos, you amateur."
Click. "Lex, Lana's in danger! You have to...!"
"Ah, Clark Kent, you adorable little super-hero. You may seem fast, but you have nothing on me. Plus you have that pesky kryptonite weakness."
Click. "Uh, yeah, Bill. It's soooo big. Please make me feel it in my—"
"Ugh, how horrid! I really must figure out how to filter out those loathsome adult channels. And, by all the Sovereigns, why is this 'Ron Jeremy' an actor? He's hideous!"
Click. "Pink!? I HATE PINK!"
"Well, then I guess it means I hate you too, you wanker."
Click. "Next up we have The View, followed by—"
"'The View?' What an awful little show. I lost a half an hour of my life to that mindless drivel, I did."
Click. "The best part of waking up, is—"
"Coffee is a crime against humanity. I prefer tea, thank you very much."
Click. "Now weh did dat wascawy wabbit go?"
"Every time Elmer comes after you, I bite my nails, Bugs, you delightful rascal."
Click. "And number one on PeopleMagazine's hottest men is..."
"Brad Pitt! Those lips are bigger than the cushions I keep in my room."
"Elijah Woods."
"What! He's a hobbit, you tossers! BRAD PITT!"
Click. "...Can we stop the final villain? Find out, on..."
Ah, this show again. Horribly inaccurate, at least in how those cartoonists drew them, but it was good enough. Nice, catchy theme song, too. She started singing along.
"Digimon, Digital Monster, Digimon are the Champions!"
Crusadermon yawned, rubbed grit from her eyes, and sat up in bed. It was almost dawn. Hmm, how long had she slept? She glanced at the clock.
Ah, a rather lengthy five hours. More than enough. She'd gone entire days watching TV and felt as chipper as ever.
Not that she, you know, did it all the time. Maybe every third day. Yes, that seemed about right.
Speaking of days, she had a decision to make. Wait for Dynasmon to get better so she could take a look north for whatever was supposedly entering her territory, or just take some of her own guards... or go herself. Hmm. She could easily outdistance her fastest escorts easily, and the three days it took for Dynasmon to stop sneezing might be too long.
Alphamon didn't recommend it, but she'd better do this alone. After all, if she found something she couldn't handle, she could relay a message to the other knights and have them come around to break some heads.
She strapped on her armor and left her room.
"Kenite!" she called, and the regent was at her side in a flash.
"Yes, my lady?"
"I'm departing for a quick overfly of the northern borders... alone," she added when it looked like Kenite was going to do something brash, like summon an escort guard.
"Ma'am, I suggest you take a heavy guard with you. I'll lead the detail myself."
"Kenite, no," she said forcefully. "You stay here and oversee the keep."
The Ultimate sighed. "Yes, ma'am. Be careful."
"When am I not, dearie?"
The landscape around here was quite lovely, to tell the truth, especially this area. The place was crowded with breathtaking trees that dwarfed her—Redwoods, were they called?—and were right next to a thundering waterfall. Very beautiful place.
With all that business of defending the Digital World personal time to smell the proverbial roses was dreadfully few and far between. Humph. If she'd known this forested area was this pristine, she'd spend more free time here. Maybe she could find some flower to replace those bloody awful things she had growing in the garden.
Hmm. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and she had combed the area very thoroughly, despite the densely packed hundred-foot-tall tree. Perhaps whatever Valkyrimon had seen had scampered off to someplace else.
Hopefully. As much as she talked lightly about fighting, and the duties of a Sovereigns-aligned Knight, she disliked fighting, and not for shallow reasons like "it makes me all dirty." War was never pretty, and it was tragic, and it should only happen when something uglier and more tragic would happen if war wasn't waged.
Humph. Dynasmon was rubbing off on her. She was starting to think like that big, peaceful—but undoubtedly strong and powerful—softy, and not like her usual semi-maniacal self.
She snorted. There was nothing here.
A pair of eyes, hidden behind a mask-like visor, stared at the pink-armored Digimon. For a moment, the owner of the eyes feared that the hated knight would take to the sky and spoil any chance of a direct confrontation. Fortunately for the creeping Digimon—and unfortunately for Crusadermon—the knight instead knelt down next one of the trees, peering down at where a patch of beautiful wildflowers grew.
Crusadermon, despite her demeanor and appearance, was no more petty or shallow with things of "beauty" than any of the other knights. She did, however, have a deeper empathy with such matters. She found great beauty in nature, light, and goodness, and felt instinctively repelled by the ugliness that was evil. In a way, Crusadermon's outlook on life was simple, yet in another way it was more intricate than the other knights'. Crusadermon did have a rather off-kilter sense of humor, however, and she gave the appearance of a warrior who was indifferent to war, even though she disliked armed conflict as any sane person.
In the end this was moot since the owner of the eyes made his move.
Such splendid looking flowers, really. She should visit this place sometime again, and this time with a flowerpot. What a bother, that she hadn't thought to bring one. Well, then again, the flight here was not for pleasure.
"Until next time, flower," Crusadermon said with a theatric shrug. She turned, ready for that bore of a flight back to the castle.
Except something had grabbed a hold of her hand.
She wheeled on whatever had grabbed her. "What the—URK!" she grunted as something yellow, hard, and fast walloped her across the face. What the bloody...? She shook her head to get the the bloody stars out of her vision, and saw... eh?
"In the name of all that is good, who are you?" she snapped. Whatever this Digimon was, it looked utterly nasty, what with that hideous color scheme and the cape and hat that looked cheap and worn. Not tall—shorter than even she was—but much more solidly built.
"The name's KingEtemon"—oh, an Etemon—"and you're in a world of hurt, lady."
Oh, by Dark Ocean. "By Sovereigns, you even talk like a clichéd Saturday morning cartoon villain. Well, one that tries to impersonate Elvis. Please, would a little originality be too much to bloody ask for?"
The Virus snarled at her. "That's it, knight. You're in for a pounding you'll never forget."
"Whatever god governs the WWF, please kill him now," she muttered to herself as she zipped away from the tree. The tosser had thrown a punch that had cracked the tree behind her in half. Nasty, very nasty.
So, it turned out Valkyrimon's little invader had decided to make a call. Ugh.
Oh! She dodged again, and another poor tree bit the dust. Humph. Now the real question was why. Random—and hideously attired—Digimon didn't usually come to pick fights with knights. Well, with that Elvis-spouting bugger, she wasn't so sure. Whoever dressed like that had to be nuttier than a fruitcake.
Maybe the other Digimon just didn't like pink.
Oh, he so had to die.
"Monkey Wrench!" the other Mega bawled and rushed at her, hands balled into fists. Better move... again! Ugh, that'd been close. KingEtemon had put on a final burst of speed that would have meant—
Wham!
Ow. Ow. Her vision cleared, and she was upside down next to a pile of lumber. The sod must've punched her through a couple of trees. Ow.
She felt the side of her helmet. Oh, damnation, the Virus had hit hard enough to dent the Chrome Digizoid. A little harder and it would have dug into her skull. Huh. Well.
"All right," she growled at KingEtemon, "you aesthetically offensive little bugger: you want a tussle, you get a tussle. Spiral Masquerade!"
She put on a burst of speed, and her perception of time slowed down, so that it almost seemed that the other Mega was standing still. The telepathic ribbons on her armor responded to her mental commands, forming into blades, and she blurred around the too-slow KingEtemon, slicing and slashing.
She pulled away, and time again sped up back to normal. The other Mega's body was... oh, sod it. Her attack had done barely more than scratch the monkey. That was utterly ridiculous.
KingEtemon gave a wide grin. "Bullet-proof skin to keep you alive!" the other Mega sang as he flexed.
Bullet-proof...? She sighed. "Please, please, please don't sing, especially when the lyrics come from some obscure song."
"This song is genius, baby!"
"Bollocks. Not when you sing it. It sounds like the moaning of Dawn of the Dead zombies. Except the zombies looked better.
She charged again, weaving with her ribbon-blades. Every time the monkey made a move to punch her helmet in, she added half a dozen extra wounds. But, bloody damn it, KingEtemon didn't seem to notice them. For Sovereigns' sakes, she was a bloody Royal bloody Knight, and KingEtemon was just a horrifically-dressed toerag who shouldn't be this powerful.
She moved in to strike at KingEtemon's belly when something exploded in her head. When she came to, she was on her hands and knees, and her head was whirling after that past punch.
And then hands were picking her up, swinging her around. Had to break free!
And then the hands released her, and she was rocketing straight towards a tree.
Oh, this couldn't be very good, could—
Bonk.
KingEtemon, bloodied and tired, knelt down by the unconscious Crusadermon. He smiled. Like with all who served the dark master, he had been gifted with enough power to make him more than enough of a match for the knight.
In self-recognition of his feat, he began to sing a few bars of a song he'd heard once when hacking the human internet. It was, supposedly, an Elvis song. He was walking towards the knight, wanting to make sure she was truly dead; wouldn't do to have left something only half-done.
He was bending down, reaching to snap the knight's neck, when a pink, Digizoid-shod foot rammed into his jaw. Rubbing the aching joint, KingEtemon saw that the knight was back on her feet. The evil Mega snorted. It was quite obvious to him that the Royal Knight was just prolonging the agony. Fast as the knight was, none of her weapons had the weight to pierce deep into KingEtemon's skin.
Crusadermon was thinking the same thing. She knew that she could fly rings around the clumsy monkey all day, but she had to stay lucky with avoiding any of the other Mega's knockout punches, while he had only to be lucky once. Not very good odds, in the knight's opinion.
Of course, they were fighting in a forest.
"Spiral Masquerade!" she cried, and rocketed around KingEtemon, slashing the other Mega's flesh. This was bloody futile, but to tell the truth, she didn't care much.
"Idiot!" she heard the monkey snarl. "You can't hurt me, you twit!"
And then a furry hand flashed out, fast, and grabbed her by the throat. Suddenly, with a painful jolt, she was on her back in the dirt.
"Listen, Crusadermon," the Viral Mega growled. "It's hopeless. You can't hurt me, I can hurt you, and I'm going to make this as painful as possible. No one insults my singing."
Oh, for the love of Simon Cowell. "You idiotic toerag," she spat. "The only person who insults your singing is you, you tone-deaf, untalented ingrate, because it's so bad that I don't have any choice but to make fun of it."
Well, KingEtemon looked taken aback by that.
Unfortunately that quickly gave way to anger. She saw the monkey's fist rise.
"Well, that's just too bad, knight. Looks like I'm gonna crack your skull and be done with it. My boss doesn't like delays, anyway."
And then suddenly there was a cacophony of cracks from around them, drowning out even the sound of the waterfall.
"What the...!?" KingEtemon shouted.
"Hey, you wanker, you've heard the term 'bringing down the house', yes?" The other Mega wouldn't be able to see the grin from behind her helmet, but bugger it, it was good to smile. "I just brought down the entire bloody forest."
Indeed, the real target of Crusadermon's final Spiral Masquerade hadn't been KingEtemon, but rather the trees around him. The knight was capable of blisteringly fast motion, and the ribbon-blades themselves were flexible and razor sharp, driven by powerful muscles.
It had taken Crusadermon less than two seconds to cleanly slice through thirty-eight one hundred-foot tall trees.
It took them a little longer to crash down on her and KingEtemon.
Cruasermon huffed and pushed the heavy branch from off her leg. Oh, she was going to have some wicked bruises for a week, see if she didn't. She'd managed to dodge most of them, but, still, ouch.
She dusted herself off and looked back to the largest pile of wreckage, where KingEtemon was. Humph. Taught that ugly—
There was a sound of shifting wood, and a hand punched its way through a tree trunk.
"Bugger," she sighed. "When I kill you with an entire bloody forest you should have the common decency to stay dead, you horrid little object."
One of the massive trunks rolled off, and she saw KingEtemon worming his way out of the tangle of trees. The other Mega looked a mite angry.
"I'm going to rip you to pieces, and them I'm gonna burn them, and then I'll eat them!" the Virus howled. Well, not just a mite angry.
"Oh, do shut up," she snapped tiredly. With a mental command her Pile Bunker shield sealed itself around her right hand. "I really do not like the cut of your gib."
"You can't stop my power!" the little wanker continued to babble as she watched him claw his way out of the trees. "My master will kill you all!"
"Your master can go jump into a lake. And speaking of which, dearie..." She took to the air and darted forward, energy building up inside her shield. "Fist of Athena!"
She swung right into the other Mega's face, and at the moment of impact the energy that had been storing inside the Bunker exploded out, multiplying the force of her punch tenfold.
And then KingEtemon was no longer there. Team KingEtemon was busy blasting off again over the waterfall.
There was a splash. Good, this was over, for now, at least.
Her vision blurred. Oh, now what? She took a step forward... and her knees buckled. She... she was suddenly very bloody tired. Maybe she should sleep for a—
Darkness.
Morpheus was holding out two hands.
"No, I don't want the Blue Pill" she moaned. "I want the Red Pill."
"I don't have a red pill," a familiar voice said to her from out of the darkness. Wait, that wasn't Laurence Fishbourne's voice. It sounded like...
Dynasmon?
She eased open her eyes. Standing over her was Dynasmon, in full armor sans helmet. Without it, she could see that the white-haired, green-eyed, jet-blacked-skinned knight looked relieved.
She rubbed her eyes to get the grit out. Ah, she was out of her armor. In fact, she was in her own room, in her own bed, wearing one of her nightgowns. Well, then.
"Where's your helmet, dearie?" she asked the other Mega.
"Oh. I'm still not over my little X-induced allergy, so I'm still sneezing a bit." She watched Dynasmon snuffle. "And, trust me, it's not fun to walk around with a helmet full of mucous."
Oh, ick. That would be a truly beastly feeling. "Well, it's good to hear. Not about the sneezing, darling, but that you're better." Dynasmon started to say something, but stopped. She saw the other knight's nose twitch. "And don't you bloody dare sneeze on me!"
She almost laughed as Dynasmon tried to quell the sneeze. Really, the big and powerful knight outdone by a—oh no. Dynasmon has just grabbed one of her blouses off the dresser and was...
"Dynasmoooon!" she screeched as her friend sneezed a very wet sneeze into the garment.
A sheepish Dynasmon shrugged at her. "At least I didn't sneeze on you."
She glared.
"My apologies," Dynasmon said repentantly. "I'll bring this down to have it washed."
She smirked as the snuffling knight left her room. What an adorable friend. She laid her head back down on the pillow.
"How are you feeling?" a new voice asked.
"Gah!" she yelped and sat up in bed. "What...?"
She looked by the window, where the owner of the voice stood. Dragonish, black, armor that was simply too aggressive looking... wait, what was this bloke's name again? Black... Black something. BlackWarmon? BlackGreatmon? Oh, this was ridiculous. Was it BlackWarGreymon? Ah, yes, that was it.
"I was asking if you're all right, Crusadermon," the Viral Mega asked. The Warden's war-claws were sitting on top of a table, along with his helmet. Huh. Talk about unruly hair.
"I'm as good as can expected after beating down on that little sod KingEtemon. Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm going to be pissed off if I went through the effort of flying your body all the way back here and dressing your wounds only to have you slip into a coma, or something."
"BlackWarGreymon"—bleh, that stuck to the tongue badly. "Actually, can I just call you Blacky? I mean, strictly between you and me, of course."
"If you have to."
"Wicked awesome. Well, thank you for dragging me back here, what with flying with my dead weight."
"Even with the armor on, you're not that heavy."
"Well, that's good to—" Oh, wait a moment. BlackWarGreymon's expression had shifted a bit from neutral to a tad uneasy. "Wait, did you...?"
"Well, your armor was dented, and I was sure you had injuries underneath, so..."
She stared. "I don't wear much underneath my armor."
"I noticed."
Oh, bloody dandy. She'd rather not have a complete sodding stranger seeing her very-nearly-naked. Well, at least there were worse lookers than the Warden over there. Ahem.
There was a knock, and Dynasmon reentered her room. "The blouse is being washed," the larger knight said. "The Gladimon refused to touch it with their hands." That broke the tension. BlackWarGreymon started, turned, and slipped on his helmet and claws. The dragon-man walked towards her door, obviously wanting to escape. Eh.
"Blacky."
The Warden turned. "Yes?"
"Thank you."
She could see the smile in BlackWarGreymon's eyes. "No problem. And, by the way, you throw a nasty punch. KingEtemon's going to be feeling that for days."
Then the Viral Mega was gone. She noticed that Dynasmon was looking down at her in puzzlement.
" 'Blacky?' "
"BlackWarGreymon is a spot of a bother to say."
"Heh," she heard Dynasmon chuckle. "Of course. Well, if everything's well, I will leave you to rest."
"That would be smashing. And don't worry about the shirt."
She heard the large knight snort as he left the room.
Heh. Good to see that Digimon back on his feet. She, on he other hand, would probably be laid up for at least another couple of days. Those horrid little bruises on her lower back smarted like no other.
At least the pain meant that she was still alive.
That fight with KingEtemon could have easily gone in a hideously opposite direction. The fact that the monkey had hinted at some master only made this business worse. With Leviamon, Megidramon, and Kimeramon supposedly following some "master", this would only get worse.
Humph. So what? It wasn't as if fighting and battle was some alien concept. How could it be, to any knight?
Even so, what would that entail? Admittedly, she did have a fascination with beautiful things, and war was by its nature something ugly. Not necessarily wrong, mind you, but with all the pain and death it brought, it was anything but attractive.
Still, with maniacs like KingEtemon—and that atrocious, ugly, ugly, ugly cape—running around, was there really any other alternative? That bugger was still alive, and damn her if did anything on her watch. Victory had its own qualities. After all, nothing was more beautiful than something that had been defended for the right reasons.
Whatever was coming, the storm, it was inevitable. Well, she hoped it wouldn't very well come to pass, but the way things were turning out, it bloody looked unlikely that KingEtemon and his blokes weren't going to stay quiet.
Heh. Well, what happened would happen, and she was going to meet it like she always did, with a joke and an appreciation for how life would be after the fighting.
After all, she was a Royal Knight.