Author's Notes

The next chapters should have more action/less talk in them, but this one's the opposite (except for the last bit) for two reasons. Firstly, because it sorta follows one of the episodes (forgot the no.), and because it sets up the future chapters. The prologue was actually set a little later, so the main story actually starts (though I will go back to the amnesia episode later down the track) before the prologue and passes the epilogue (a tad different structure to my usual fics). What this chapter is mainly doing is highlighting various points that will repeat themselves more spatially in later chapters as well as nudging the plot along. Stuff do happen, it's just written in a more subjective manner. Later chapters I think reveals more important events in a dialogue/action base.

Anywho, enjoy.

Chapter 1 – Expanding Circles

'Ken?'

'Hmm..?"

'What's the matter?'

The boy turned to the in-training digimon, the cute yet wise Minomon floating next to his pillow with a soft pout on his lips, and almost let a smile grace his features. Something held him back however, a reflexive and almost innate response which disallowed the expression of such contentment for the dark stain which blotted his heart.

Minomon, floating aside the pillow, showed as much worry as he could express in such a form, which was a tad difficult due to the outer simplicity, but manageable all the same. 'Ken?' he tried again, eyes soft yet waiting to observe and too hawk-like in that particular aspect to let the worm slide.

He sighed inwardly, before formulating a reply which directed his worried partner's attention. Because he knew he was not the only one burdened with guilt although he felt many a time that he was the only one who should. However, while the blame could, in an unbiased sense, be divided amongst numerous constituents, Minomon, regardless of his form, could not be held accountable in all objectiveness. But it was a cursed cycle; guilt always seemed to lead to more guilt, and in such an instance, his guilt would become his partner's and the perimeter would widen. Continuing would cause it to widen infinitely, and so silence kept the circle as small as possible.

He sighed again, out loud this time and letting air escape its confinements as one sometimes did under the impression of having over-eaten. 'It's nothing really,' he said in reply, keeping himself from slouching over the desk chair. 'I just ate too much at dinner.' And it was the truth. Just a different branch of it.

Minomon blinked, and the worry faded some, though still shadowing as though he knew to some level what was lacking in the answer. Which he did really, and they both knew. 'That doesn't sound like you.'

He was right of course. After all, no-one knew Ken better than his partner did. No-one knew the small habits that made him who he was…something that for the longest time he alone knew as his best friend and human partner lost his identity in the sea of darkness, and ironically guilt: the wide cycle which had come again in a full circle and was now re-expanding and reshaping its form.

It was amazing though, that sometimes all it took to uplift that was a smile stemming from something one would otherwise deem negligible.

'I normally just eat one bowl,' he explained. 'But my folks seemed concerned, so I ate a little more than I usually do.'

'You ate more for your parents?'

When it was put that way…

'Who would have ever thought that?' A slight smile crept across his face as he remembered how happy his parents had been; the shining light in his mother's eyes, several aging lines vanishing from his father's face…it was remarkable the change a simple action could make, and it certainly did much to lighten the atmosphere that seemed doomed to hover and strain the small family. 'Boy were they happy.'

The smile was small, but enough for Minomon to let go of what remained of his worry…for the time being. Because afterwards, inevitably, came sleep, and when undisrupted, nightmares.

But for now, that was simply a shadow looming in the background.

If only it could stay that way. But it couldn't. Or wouldn't.

Sleeping was always difficulty when such thoughts constantly plagued ones mind in the waking hours, but there were times, rare as they were, where it was eased and reprieve was temporarily granted to all. After all, just as there were times in which one could not help but cry in the collective, there were times also wherein one cannot help but laugh in happiness or contentment or even in form of release when emotions bottled inside seek to be expelled, in any way.

In any way; it sounded so morbid, so hopeless as though death itself was the only release. But perhaps not to all; he knew he would have once said something along the lines of "extreme circumstances call for extreme measures". In other words, it was a license for bending or breaking the rules. And he was sure that any adventurous eight year old would have thought similarly.

But in any case, the temporary relief granted a small reprieve, so the human and digimon pairs slept side by side, sharing the same pillow, the same blanket…essentially as close to the same space as they would get without removing each other from existence. And the same time in which things remained undisturbed was unconsciously savored…until they were disrupted.

It is said, and widely accepted, that natural darkness is the realm of sleep of consciousness. Penetrating light, therefore, was as good a way as any to bring out of such restful state.

And that is exactly what the computer monitor accomplished.

A drowsy Ken blinked away the shadows and attempted to focus on the scene in front while simultaneously cursing and resigning himself to the disruption to his rest. He cursed because the sleep, currently free from the overhanging guilt and its continually changing expanse, and yet another part of his subconsciousness accepted it as inevitable because he deserved it.

Prematurely awoken, it took a precious moment for reality to click, in which he blinked stupidly at the luminescent screen, half-consciously flinching away from the light on reflex before his pupils adjusted and lessoned the impact.

And that was when he first saw that woman, cold amethyst eyes turning to bore into his own before the red lips twisted into a thin smirk.

'Oh, Emperor.' She sounded neither surprised nor apologetic, but rather a tad mocking. 'Is your reprieve being again denied?'

That threw the ex-emperor for a loop momentarily, as the only ones aware of that other than himself was Minomon, wide awake and floating protectively in front of his face. The fact that this woman, whoever she was, knew, meant…

'It's a shame,' she remarked coyly, turning fully and masking the bright screen, purposely defining each sound that hovered on her lips as she expelled them. 'You had so much potential. And yet you wasted it. How unfortunate…rotting away in your confinement while you see what you could have become.'

Her smirk widened to its upmost as silence greeted her epitaph, and she purposely turned and shielded her eyes from his own; the cold amethyst glittering strangely and being eerily projected by the screen…

…and then she was gone, and the machine took up its dormancy once more. A restful sleep which once again had been denied to him.

'Is she gone?' Minomon asked, in a tone that insinuated a child's innocence. A tone one would use when inquiring as to whether or not their older brother had scared away the monster in the closet, or beneath the bed.

But he had long lost that. Probably the second he had willed his brother dead. Perhaps before. And that was something he could never get back.

'I hope so,' he replied softly, propping himself on an elbow and scanning the room. His heart though wasn't in the reply. After all, the demons never left the damned. And his would always plague him.

The in-training digimon, satisfied with the reply, settled back onto the pillow and was asleep within minutes. The other though, lying back down beside his partner, stared at the ceiling as he tried to erase the words now engraved in his mind.

Sleep did not come to him again that night.

The first rays of dawn were like a beckoning beacon to mist, piercing the night sky and calling all to wake to the new day with the promise that rest awaited at the end if it. Give it a few minutes, sometimes an hour, sometimes two, or more, and life all over would be answering the call.

But to those that had been denied the night's reward, the call went heard and seen but unneeded. And so it was that the tapping of keys preceded the sun's rising, as Ken scanned his computer again and again, failing to find what the white-haired lady had done.

'Ken?' Minomon asked blurrily, the sun's shine on his face waking him 'What are you doing?'

'Looking for what that woman did,' the bluenette answered, quickly browsing through the last of the programmes before determining that nothing had been changed or removed. 'That's odd,' he murmured to himself, before realisation suddenly hit, kindly informing him that he had wasted the last hour on stupidity, before pulling his D-3 and D-terminal from the drawer and connecting them to the system.

'Ken?' Minomon asked again with increasing worry, especially as the boy-genius flopped back into his chair with the head colliding with the table straight after. But while increasing the worry, it also lessened the confusion, as the black and white pixilated screen no longer obscured was all too familiar, mirroring a simpler map at the Emperor's base. The only difference was the black squares outnumbered the predecessor.

'Is that-?'

'The Control Spires,' Ken groaned, voice muffled by the wood. 'She copied their data off my hard-disk. That's what she was doing last night. And activating the old ones as well.'

He lifted his head slightly and the screen consumed his peripheral vision. The black, more numerous than ever before polluted the screen, carving a path through the Server Desert, the mountains…and in other places, a single oe, beckoning and mocking. Mocking his shame, his mistakes, his guilt. Mocking him…and the other Digidestineds who had knocked the abominations down only for them to rise up again and gloat.

And it was a victorious gloat, because not one of them understood what they truly dd. Not even him, the Digimon Emperor, the one who had created them and harnessed a mere fraction of their potential power.

And seeing that black expanse consuming his sight made him sick; just knowing that he had set the groundwork for that that, know he was the one at fault, and just seeing the evidence in front of his eyes in perfect black and white.

'We'll get rid of them,' Minomon interrupted his inner musings. 'We'll make those black squares white.'

Kin grinned at his partner, but it wasn't genuine. 'Yeah,' he agreed out loud. Deep down though, he wasn't sure.

Was it a sign that he would never be free of it all, that others would have to always unfairly carry that burden…or was it something more, that he couldn't see in the sea of black?

He seriously doubted it. But that didn't mean that he couldn't hope a fool's hope.

'Well,' he sighed, standing up. 'There's no time like the present to get started.'

'But Ken,' Minomon pointed out. 'Aren't you going to school?'

He groaned, looking at the clock. Apparently, the time had passed faster than he thought, and in all honesty, school was the last place he wanted to go. Within those barbed wire gates were constant reminders of a person that was not him, and should never have been but yet had. And every minute he spent confined in there was another minute he in which he faced the darker side of him and the influence of which he was trying to change…too late. Three years had cemented the Emperor's influence in the image of the boy genius that had surpassed his brother and role model: the famous "Rocket" on the soccer field, the titles and records held in various competitions and examinations, the commercials he starred in and the fame and revenue he reaped from it, and now trying to overturn it all seemed almost impossible, as though he was trying to turn the earth itself inside out. Perfection was the epitome; replacing that with weakness was inacceptable.

His grades had slipped in the aftermath, as had his mask. And with both those defences gone, he found himself at a new end in his twisted web. Because before, there had been Sam. Now there was Minomon, but he couldn't take him to school. He couldn't scare off kids before they got too rowdy. He couldn't stop the words that only now pierced the poker face and cut through the skin. In that aspect, he was alone, collecting the payment from when he had been untouchable.

Another reminder. Another stimulator. Another point in the circle.

'School?' Minomon asked again as the other slumped, tucking the devices into his bag after unplugging them.

'After school,' he promised, before grabbing his uniform and leaving the room.

School was always a dreary grey; the buildings, the paths, even the students were clothed in it. It was private, one of those posh schools where you had to meet the standards or not belong. And with the way the school was run, everyone would know in a matter of hours.

That was all it had taken for the cement of the prodigy's reign to crumble, dragging itself by the tail as the expectations remained solidified yet contradictions began to emerge. Some students laughed at his failures, latching on to the opportunity to ridicule him and prove his humanity (in a rather ironic sense one would believe), or else they believed and spread the most inconceivable reasons. Funnily enough, most circled around the notion that there was something wrong with him.

Perhaps there was. It all depended on the definition. And the partial amnesia still hovering didn't help matters at all.

He snorted to himself. That would be right: genius turned nut-case if one would be so blunt.

Others still scowled at his arrogance: the license of perfection allowing him the freedom to muck, as he once did. Teachers and fans showed a different reaction. They still expected the person he had been before, thinking of the recent change as the pre-teen's rebellious phase, and it appeared animals too expected repetition of the previous behavior.

Like the cat that immediately scurried from his path as he cut through the park and into the school compound.

He no longer belonged. He had to wonder if he ever had. Being alone was so much easier, but at the same time it was something he feared. Because where then was his rope?

Better to be the black sheep in the flock. Even if the flock wasn't his own.

But listening to the whispered laughter around him as people wondered off in different directions, he had to wonder when was the last time he had truly laughed like that with a friend himself. Probably before his brother's accident, maybe even earlier. In fact, he couldn't ever remember having any real friends apart from his brother at all, or so his mind said. His heart said otherwise.

The bell rang then, a loud, piercing sound that summoned all.

His brain felt as though it was stuffed with fog. Probably had something to do with the lack of sleep finally taking its toll, but regardless, it make it extra difficult to focus on class and dig up the motivation to learn. Not even knowing that he couldn't risk falling even more behind after being missing for two months and kept from school for another half was enough to keep his brain on sharp alert. In fact, it was more a motivation to dull it, because knowledge was power, and he had already proven he couldn't be trusted with it.

In the simplest terms, he was afraid and lost.

As a result, science passed in a daze, and then English and humanities. Math was more awkward, as not only was the class informed of an upcoming test, but he was called upon to answer a question another student had failed. So did he after sparing it miniscule thought, and the teacher was disappointed, the students somewhere between shock, anger or glee.

And then a lone but nutritious home-cooked lunch that his mother had packed in the crowded cafeteria, hoping Minomon had eaten his fill from the food in the closet and waving off an enthusiastic fan-girl who was yet to realize the prodigy's reign was over.

It was a nice feeling, knowing someone was waiting, someone who wasn't obliged to do so by family ties or any equivalent. But at the same time, a dark pit sat in his stomach, telling him it was a fruit he didn't deserve, but all the same, it was the light keeping his head above the water. That at least he would latch on to as his savior, as the life boat in a raging sea…because to some degree one could argue, and have, that he deserved that at least, and if anyone could say it didn't, the decision was ultimately in the hands of the light itself, the one sparing him from the consequences.

After all, he still believed there was a such thing as mercy in the world.

The lunch vanished with the time, and next was sport in a more awake mind which hadn't, for good or ill, appeared to have suffered from the Emperor's fall as of the two days he had been back at school, and then home, a brief exchange with his parents, and after that, the Digital World, leaving the shadow of a different reality behind them.

A world in which the shadows were accumulating. A world in which he was simply stirring the breeze while waiting for the storm to hit.

Somehow, the Digital World looked so grey and dull, far unlike the rich and vibrant colour that had exploded from Primary Village. It mirrored the first time he had come, the dark waters washing along the shore, the black tower standing tall –

He bit his lip to stifle a gasp as he spied the same tower rising up from the forest hills, visible even through the dense canopy they stood under, and just past that, he could barely make out a flash of washed-out colour that looked vaguely familiar, and yet not.

'Wormmon?', he asked, as it was the insectoid rookie that once again stood beside. 'Shouldn't the Primary village be at the end of this forest?'

'Of course,' the digimon answered, rearing up on his hind legs to peer at his partner's pale face, blue eyes staring straight ahead. 'What do you mean?'

'It's so…pale.' The words simply fell from his lips as the eyes stared, transfixed by the bloched pink that was, even now, fading to a dull grey. 'What happened to the colour?'

The digimon looked in the direction, but after the spying the coloured tower newly repaired that his partner was referring to, he turned back, worry once again rising inside of him. 'What do you mean?' he asked. 'It looks perfectly normal from here.'

'No, it's – ' He stopped suddenly as a wave of dizziness flowed through him, before continuing edgily. 'It looks like the color's been washed out.'

The insectoid looked back again, wondering whether or not he had missed something in his last scan, but another look yielded no results. Except the numerous control spires littered the forest.

'Maybe it's the control spires,' the digimon suggested. 'Let's get rid of them and see.' He paused as something suddenly occurred to him. 'How am I going to evolve?'

Ken pulled out his digivice, still coated as black as the sin he carried. 'I programmed the digivice to allow digivolution even in the presence of the spires,' he said quietly, before giving a wry smile. 'Looks like it came in handy. Though I don't remember you ever evolving before…'

A light laugh came from behind them. 'For a genius, you're not too smart. Are you little boy?'

'Tut tut,' she laughed as the rookie bared his teeth, or what could be called teeth, at her. 'Don't go losing your temper now.'

'What are you doing here?' Ken growled. 'And what have you done?'

The woman tusked again. 'Really Ken dear, is that any of your business? But if you must know...' She trailed off, twirling a single strand of hair around her index finger before tugging it off. 'I'm completing the work you left undone…but I came to simply install an insurance policy.' She sighed dramatically. 'Well timed too, it seems. But you nosy little brats just don't know when not to interfere.'

The hair strand straightened, strong, thin and ultimately needle like, an idea which was reinforced as she pressed the tip into the nearest control spire. 'Enjoy your little playmate,' she smirked. 'Spirit Needle!'

When the sudden burst of light faded, the mysterious woman was gone, as was the Control Spire. In their place however as a devil of the past after their blood.