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"And thus I take my leave of the world and of you all, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me."
- 'The Tudors', Anne Boleyn
For so long, he felt torn. For so long, he didn't know if he should follow the light or the dark.
From the beginning, he was told that he wasn't the same as everyone else. He was made a weapon, set for destruction and terror. Destined to be feared by all in a path of Dystopia. To be powerful... and lonely. With all that power, supposedly someone would be content, yet... he was unhappy.
His heart yearns for something else, but he didn't know what it was. Thus, he searched. Searched for meaning, for purpose. To find the answers that ring in his mind. To fill in the emptiness inside of him.
He wanted to care for others, but every attempt backfired. Tenderness is warm, its fragile, its vulnerable. He wanted to hold it, but every time he tried...
... he found himself squishing it with unintentional strength.
He would just hurt others around him, rather than help them. He'd be a hindrance, a bother to everyone he'd meet. What was the point of opening to others anyway?
At the point of breaking, tossing away any strand of hope, he thought...
How could someone who looks so threatening, who's such a monster... care for another?
As BlackWarGreymon closed his eyes and transformed into bright grains of data to the seal, a small smile was on his face. Through figuring out if he was a creature of darkness, or if he had any good in him, he didn't need to confirm which side he chose.
The Digiworld wouldn't be safe if he didn't seal the Heighten View Terrace gate, and it would buy some time for the Digidestined to stop the coming evil. His life would be taken away, but he didn't mind the sacrifice.
His body was turning into bright digital grains, the light around him made him feel warm and at peace.
He had finally found his purpose.