Disclaimer: I do not own digimon and I am not making money off this fanfic. I do not own/make money off of any companies/music/shows/etc I mention, like Oreos. No infringement intended. Thank you.
Theme Song: "Enter the Shogun Executioner" by James Hannigan and "Yuriko" by James Hannigan
(-'010102000'-)
"One may know how to gain a victory, and know not how to use it."
—Pedro Calderon de la Barca
The Lighthouse
Saga I Session VII
... Part III: The Cataclysm of the Emperor ...
"Devimon, MOVE."
Patamon just barely managed to violently head-butt Devimon out of the way of an incoming attack before it struck. However, instead of hitting Devimon, it whipped straight across Patamon's back. Red electrical currents ran wildly over his body, traveling up and down his face, his hooves, his ears. He cried out at the same time TK did.
Devimon stumbled a couple of steps and reeled around, eyes wide. Patamon hit the ground hard, smoking, twitching. Devimon's shoulders went limp, his brow furrowed.
"Patamon..." TK whispered, rushing over to his digimon's side and picking him up, cradling the rookie to his chest. "Are you okay?"
"I will be," Patamon whimpered. "Just let me rest for a moment, okay?"
TK leaned his cheek against Patamon's head as he silently nodded.
Devimon watched with a pale look on his face.
"Is it really you, Seraphimon's prince?" came a slimy, suave voice above them all. "Oh, it is! I never thought I'd see the day, Devimon! How very tragic."
The speaker, Patamon's attacker, Devimon's accusor— they were all the same, with an appearance that made TK wretch:
Myotismon.
(-'10102101'-)
Puppetmon sighed. Once again, I'm in this situation... Unable to stop... Unable to think...
Maybe that's what's best.
Simultaneous to Myotismon's attack came Stingmon's. A barrage of rapidfire cut off Ken and Yolei from not only Hawkmon's unconscious body, but TK and the others. Yolei and Ken instantly twisted around to see Stingmon hovering above them, his wings buzzing, the spikes on his arms pointed in their direction.
"Ken..." Stingmon's voice was hoarse. "I can't... stop myself... It's Puppetmon. Somehow, he's controlling my movements!"
"What? Impossible," Ken said. He couldn't stop himself from rushing in Stingmon's direction. "I'll save you!"
"Stay away from me! SPIKING FINISH."
Ken flung back as the attack struck ground seconds from his feet.
Silly digimon, Puppetmon continued to think, approaching Stingmon. You always have hope things will turn out for the best.
"Oh, don't you just love it when friends fight?" said Puppetmon, who plopped right down on the buzzing Stingmon's shoulder, smiling down at Ken and Yolei. "Oh wait, no," he went on, "That's just me! Hahahah!"
"We're not fighting," Ken said. "You're making him attack me."
"Yes," Puppetmon agreed, "I am. Now cut him up real good, Stingmon!"
"SPIKING FINISH." Stingmon's spike soared through the air.
"Ken, move!" Yolei cried, knocking him aside. She barely got her own arms up in time to block Stingmon's attack with a gale of wind, which burst forward and pushed Stingmon back.
Puppetmon's fingers twitched. Stingmon turned to stab Yolei.
"I won't let you!" Ken screamed, picking himself up off his feet and now flinging himself in front of Yolei.
"No, Ken!" she cried, trying to move him away. "You can't do this for me!"
Stingmon's blade whistled against the wind as it plunged toward them.
"No," Stingmon snapped, fist convulsing as it stopped an inch away from Yolei's and Ken's faces. Struggling, Stingmon's entire body began to quiver. "I can't... let you do this to me... to us..." Even Stingmon's voice shook as he strained to stunt the attack. "Not... to my friends..."
"Friends...?"
Puppetmon tried time and time again to suppress the memories, but over and over again they remained, stuck in his head, playing over and over. Unable to stop it, stop time, to go back and try all over again, to change the events. His whole life, Puppetmon just wanted to play. Didn't matter how or with whom, just someone, with something.
But no one wanted to play with him.
Well, except one person. Maybe two, though that person didn't count— TK never really wanted to play with him, just trick him. The other person had really been sincere, though.
Friends.
Was that what he and Puppetmon had been, before he died and vanished forever?
What was in friendship, anyway? What made friendship such a strong facet of power? That was what Cherrymon had said, just as Puppetmon died. That the one thing the DigiDestined had that Puppetmon didn't was friends.
But it wasn't always like that, now was it? He tried to think, but it always hurt his head. At one time, Puppetmon had many friends, not just one. It started with one friend, sure, but then Puppetmon made plenty of friends. Cherrymon and Woodmon and a couple of Palmon, all of them were his friends. Of course, then the dark days came and they all vanished, except Cherrymon. Then Cherrymon became one of Puppetmon's puppets rather than his friend.
Because friends never stayed long. Friends always left. They always died. They made Puppetmon feel alone, because he was alone. Always alone.
"Friends," Puppetmon laughed. Stingmon faltered. "Who cares about friends! Friends say they'll never leave you, but they always do. Beelzemon left me, after all."
"Beelzemon?" Stingmon asked. Ken and Yolei looked at the digimon with a frown.
Puppetmon snickered. "Lord Beelzemon Blast Mode and his band of Behemoth and Berenjena. I waited for him, when he died..." Puppetmon's eyes glazed over as the memories surfaced. "I waited for days in Primary Village. Days turned to weeks, weeks into months. Then it was years before I realized he'd never come back. Because there's nothing called friendship. It's a myth. You can like someone, but it's not worth it— to die for them."
(-'1010201'-)
"Hey, hey, your name is Ken Ichijouji, right?" said a young girl in Ken's class. They were pretty tiny at the time, before the time of the Digital World or Ryo or Wormmon. He'd been coloring in class, minding his own business, humming a song from some anime he watched on Saturday mornings.
When the girl spoke, he looked up at her with a small, innocent blink. Giving a shy nod, he said, "Umm... yeah... Why?"
"You're the brother of that genius, Sam?"
Ken nodded. Finally, a smile broke out over her face, a red tinge brightening her pale cheeks. "Do you wanna be friends, Ken?"
Ken again blinked. "Sh—sure!"
"You can like someone, but it's not worth it— to die for them. To be friends."
"That's not true," Ken whispered, grabbing Stingmon's extended spike. He then wrapped his hands around his partner's hand and brought its quivering skin to his cheek, affectionately holding it there. "So many times I'd befriend people who didn't want to really be friends with me. Sometimes they wanted to get to know me so I'd introduce them to my brother. Then they got close to me because I was the genius. It was hard to know who was genuine and who was not, and at times, it was lonely. Sometimes I hated everyone, because no one wanted to love me. Sometimes I swore to myself that not even my parents loved me, because they had Sam, and when they didn't have Sam anymore, I swore they didn't love me because I was a living reminder of the son they'd lost. And when I became a genius like my brother, I thought their love was false, something they only felt because I'd become Sam's echo. Just because no one loves you doesn't mean no one loves me..."
"Shut-up," Puppetmon snapped, launching off Stingmon's shoulder and landing on the concrete in front of him.
Ken's fingers clutched Stingmon's. Expression softening, he went on, "There was a time when I didn't have friends... I didn't want to get hurt. Rejected. Embarrassed. And it's still scary, opening up to people..."
"I said shut-up!" the puppet shouted.
"But I'm glad that I have," he admitted, "I'm glad that I did, even to the people I've lost over the years. People who'd died or people who just left... I'm glad I got to know all the people I have, because they've each taught me so many wonderful things I would have never learned if I never took the time, effort, and emotions to get close to people. It took maturity and a lot of growing, but now I know. Friendship does exist, and it is powerful."
"You don't know anything!" Puppetmon howled.
"Kindness to people is what makes me powerful. Friends make me powerful. I am powerful because I never give up on anything or anyone if I can help it. Friends are not a myth, and it's not impossible for you to make them, either! If the Digital Emperor can, so can you!"
"I said SHUT IT!"
Yolei's palm smashed into Ken's nose. Ken flung to the side, hitting the concrete with a loud THUD. He coughed and hacked, grabbing at the blood oozing from his nostrils. Wincing, he looked up at Yolei, whose eyes were wide with shock.
"Ken... Ken, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"I know." Ken hissed in pain as he reached up to rake his fingers along the wound again.
"I don't know what happened," Yolei cried.
"If you're such good friends," Puppetmon snarled, "Then how are you going to kill her to stop her from killing you? Or are you just gonna let yourself die?"
"What do you..." Yolei began, but Ken's lips stopped her mid-sentence. She froze on the spot, taken aback. When Ken pulled away, she opened her mouth to speak, but he rested his index finger on her lips.
"You're wild and unruly," Ken told her, "You're completely uncontrollable and always mad, you never restrain yourself, your eating habits are insultingly bad, you have no manners, you're rude... You're violent and you can be incredibly selfish and petty and judgmental. You're crazy, even crazier than me and that's saying something, and you're brash and loud and obnoxious."
Yolei blushed, then glared. "Um, screw you, Ichijouji!"
He smiled, but not angrily or cockily. In fact, it was a sweet smile, and he reached up to entwine his fingers in her hair. "But you're also kind. You always hesitate to kill a digimon, even when your life or the life of someone you care about is in danger, even when that digimon has given you no reason to give it mercy. You're sweet when you don't mean to be. You're filled with so much love, and you're incredibly honest, not only with others but also with yourself. You're strong, and smart, and beautiful. You care about me even when I don't care about myself. You think you're nothing special, that you have to act a certain way in order to get noticed, but to me you're perfect just the way you are. Not without your flaws, but your flaws are what make you such a great person. Your flaws are what make you you, what distinguishes what's so great about you. And there's so much greatness, Yolei."
What had been a flush of rage instantly turned into a flush of embarrassment. Yolei's cheeks felt hot against Ken's skin. She bit her bottom lip and looked down. "Ken, is right now really the moment for this?"
Ken laughed. "And even though you boast about yourself all the time, you're so humble when someone else boasts about you."
"I'm not being humble, I just... don't think it's..."
"It's the perfect time for this," he said, kissing her again.
As he pulled away, her eyelids were half-lidded, her lashes fluttering as her shoulders went limp.
"Now don't panic," he said in a soft voice.
"Why would I pan..." and then she must have noticed the strings attached to her hands, because Yolei began panicking. "Oh my God! They're puppet strings! He wrapped PUPPET strings around me! Oh my God, that bastard! WHO DOES THIS SHIT."
Just in time, Ken bucked away from her to avoid a swipe.
"I can't stop myself!" she cried out. "Nonononono, stoppit, hand! Bad hand, bad!"
A wave of wind smashed against Ken's face. He twisted around, trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose and the cuts in his arms from the wind, but he didn't have time. Stingmon cried out his name, but his voice fell on deaf ears.
(You have no friends...
How many times had the thought occurred to Ken?)
Yolei slashed at his ribs. He dodged the attack, but the aftershock of wind ripped his feet out from under him.
(You have no friends...
How many times had he told himself this?)
He held up his hands barely in time to block a punch that sent him at least several feet back, skidding on the pavement.
(You have no friends...
How many times had he grown cold, and bitter, and angry when he thought it?)
"Yolei, you can fight this!" he cried out. CRACK. Her fist plowed into his cheek.
(You have no friends...
How many times had he lashed out because of it?)
"I died being told I had no friends," Puppetmon said, holding out a hand. "And after today, so will you!"
"Don't let him manipulate you!" Stingmon cried out to Yolei, struggling with the strings, trying so hard to stop himself from attacking the both of them. Yolei and Stingmon danced around each other, blocking blows, flurries of movement dashing across Ken's eyes.
"I can't stop it!" Yolei sobbed. A spell of wind pushed Stingmon into a car that burst open in a heap of shrapnel. He grunted, a metal frame protruding from his shoulder.
Ken rushed in his direction. "Stingmon!"
"Stay back!" Stingmon told him, holding out a hand to stop him.
Ken bit down on his tongue, then said, "How can I? I won't let him do this to you two!"
"You have to!" Yolei cried.
Stingmon was crying, too. "We can't let ourselves hurt you... It isn't right!"
"Just run away, Ken!"
Yolei's pleas didn't register. Ken was shaking. He knew Puppetmon had taken control over Yolei the moment she punched his nose. Luckily he didn't think it was broken, but it certainly hurt— and now here he was, trying to avoid the attacks of both his partner and his friend. How could he do this? He couldn't hurt them... anyone but them... no, he was a Destined, hurting them or anyone was not an option.
Stingmon echoed Yolei's request. "Get away from us!"
"Please!"
I can't... Ken was sinking down into himself, remembering the little girl at the coloring table. She wasn't genuine. None of the people were. Sometimes there were one or two who really were nice, but they faded with time, their faces blurring together. Even Ryo left forever, never to return. None of them stayed.
Until Wormmon.
Then came Davis, and Yolei, and soon afterward Kari, who'd gone through almost the same thing as Ken, then TK and Cody followed not long after Kari. Ken had never felt so loved, so wanted, so needed his entire life. He'd mended his past with his parents. Now they were supportive, kind; they'd seen the way they mistreated him and cleared up all the misconceptions he'd had of their love. He realized they loved him for him, not because of what fame he could give them, what press and awards he'd garnered for their recognition.
Even now, when he'd given up trying to impress them, no longer bringing home the best of the best, they still loved him through everything.
Their love, and the love of his friends, was unconditional.
I can't, he repeated, looking at his hands. I won't.
"Not until I've saved you," Ken said, peering up at them.
Yolei shook her head. "I've already lost Hawkmon today... He might be gone forever... I... I can't lose you, too!"
"You won't," he promised.
"Yes, you won't," Puppetmon agreed, standing from his spot on Stingmon's shoulder, where he'd placed himself once again. "Because," he continued, "He will kill you."
And that was when Puppetmon's strings burrowed deep inside Ken's veins.
(-'1010210'-)
Puppetmon was breathing hard, panting, bruised and beaten and frustrated. He couldn't understand why he was so weak... Even though he was a mega, he had trouble beating just a damn champion! Soon, the wooden digimon decided to give up and plopped down in the mud, staring up above the canopy to the blue skies.
Such a pretty day. Too pretty to die. But he'd die anyway. What was keeping him here anyway?
He must have lied there for at least twenty minutes before someone passed by him and spoke. "Hey there, little guy," the voice said, "Are you okay?"
"Go away," Puppetmon said stubbornly.
"I have food."
Puppetmon sat up in an instant, peering at the speaker. He didn't look for many specific details. The guy was pale pink— definitely an angel type, much to Puppetmon's chagrin— he was massive, Leporidae-type; pink, white, and yellow gleamed in the sunlight as he neared Puppetmon.
As Puppetmon scrutinized the figure, the figure cracked open a fanged grin. He held out a hand, offering what looked like a loaf of home-baked bread. Puppetmon devoured it in just three big bites.
"My name is Cherubimon," the digimon said, taking another loaf and tossing it up in the air. Effortlessly, he leaned his head up and caught it in his mouth. Though Puppetmon had thought his own appetite was ravenous, it was nothing compared to the creature's. He went through four loaves of bread, and Puppetmon was full after just one. "Sorry, kid," Cherubimon said with a slight blush and smile. "Guess I eat a lot. But I burn a lot of energy." He patted his belly to emphasize his point. After a moment of silence, he peered curiously at the wooden digimon and asked, "What were you doing over here all by yourself? I mean, not to be condescending or anything. You're a mega digimon, so I'm sure you can take care of yourself."
"Of course I can!" Puppetmon jeered at him, turning away with a furious blush. When Cherubimon said nothing in response, Puppetmon blinked down at his gloved hands and said, "Trying to get stronger... I... don't fight well."
"Oh." Cherubimon looked up at the sky. "Ohhh!" His face snapped back in Puppetmon's direction. "Well, well! Lucky for you, I'm a general kinda guy, the type who leads legions of digimon into battle! How about I show you how we do things? C'mon, I'll train ya for free!"
"I don't know..."
"Oh kid, don't be like that," Cherubimon said with a grin. "Anything's possible. No one's weak under my eye."
Then Puppetmon paused, realizing something. He shuffled his feet. "You..." He gave a suspicious look up at the angel digimon. "You can't be the Cherubimon, can you? You know the one..."
Cherubimon answered with a grin.
Ever since, Cherubimon never left Puppetmon's side.
Years passed. Puppetmon didn't know how many, it'd been too long. Cherubimon was right; under his watchful eye, Puppetmon quickly ascended in the courts as a powerful fighter and one of GuadiAngemon's most respected soldiers, even his right-hand general— even though Puppetmon was a virus instead of a vaccine, and no where near an angel-type like most of Cherubimon's other soldiers, he was well-regarded and few were prejudiced against him.
It wasn't until they came around that things changed. Sure, there were enemies. One in particular that rang bad news. They would have never came if it weren't for that enemy. But things weren't bad until they arrived.
Oh, how the mighty, how the righteous, how the good fall down.
Puppetmon had been playing in the fields with Floramon and Palmon. Butterflies fluttered by them. Honeysuckle-scented winds wafted around him. Cherrymon and Woodmon were laughing and joking, scaring passersby by playing devious pranks that made Puppetmon giggle. Blades of grass shined in the evening Sun.
He knew things had changed when Cherubimon surfaced from the darkness of the forest. Something was different about him, but Puppetmon couldn't fathom what until Cherubimon plunged one of his claws straight through Palmon's neck and sliced off her head. She exploded into data, not given enough time to scream. Puppetmon saw Cherubimon's face through the billowing data as he laughed and took a deep, vexing breath, inhaling her floating data. Floramon tried to run away, but she wasn't fast enough. She, too, was absorbed into Cherubimon's lungs.
Next came the Woodmon, all of them cut down with a single strike. Cherrymon disappeared in a haze of darkness, but not before Cherubimon blasted off several of his boughs.
"Cherubimon, stop!" Puppetmon cried, giving Cherrymon just enough time to escape.
Cherubimon crouched over, holding his chest. He nearly collapsed against the smaller digimon.
"What's wrong?" Puppetmon's voice was gentle as he leaned over the crumpled digimon. He rested his hand on Cherubimon's shoulder. Was his friend okay? Why was he attacking everyone?
Cherubimon began hacking and coughing, clutching wildly at his chest. "It hurts, Puppetmon," he murmured, struggling for air. "It hurts, deep inside." His hand went from his chest to his stomach. "I'm so hungry... starving... famished! I can't get enough..."
"Okay, I'll go get you some berries. Wait here."
"No," Cherubimon ordered. Puppetmon froze in his tracks. "I need something bigger, something stronger," Cherubimon growled, clawing at the ground. "But I can't eat you, can I? No... Not you... not you..."
Puppetmon stiffened. Cherubimon considered devouring him, too? Just as he'd devoured Floramon and Palmon and the Woodmon?
"You're too precious," Cherubimon whispered, his voice cracking. "What am I doing? No... No, they deserve this. They all deserve this!" He turned to Puppetmon, grabbing him by the face and shaking him. "You believe me, don't you! You believe they deserved it!"
"I... I... Cherubimon..."
"Will you follow me, no matter where I go or what I do?" Cherubimon asked, quivering, his knees finally breaking beneath him as he sunk to the ground, weeping. "Will you stay by my side?"
"I..." Puppetmon hesitated. What was wrong with his friend? He knew things had gotten so terrible lately, but could they really have been this bad? Or maybe Cherubimon was simply hiding his pain inside. He paused again, thinking it through. In his roughest moments, Cherubimon had been there for him every single time. So how could Puppetmon not be there for him during his? "Of course," he finally said, smiling. "Of course I will be, Cherubimon! I'm your friend. You're my best friend. I love you."
"Love..." Cherubimon snickered, leaning his forehead against Puppetmon's shoulder. His fur felt cool. Like velvet icy. "What fools we are for love, Puppetmon," he said. "Our love will always lead only to trouble."
"What are you...?" Puppetmon was unable to finish his question. At that moment, the snow-cold fur of Cherubimon's face trickled into heat. Then it got hotter, and hotter, until it burned Puppetmon. Puppetmon screamed and pulled away, just in time to witness as Cherubimon's garb burst into blinding white flame.
There he was, laughing, his hands rising to the skies. "If only I could go to the other world..." Cherubimon said, fingers caressing the outline of the Sun in the sky. "Maybe I could live a peaceful life there, someday... No... I have no chance, no choice." His hand lowered. His fur melted into his skin, reforming, taking a new, sharper shape. His claws turned into firearms clutched tightly in his bandaged fingers. His melted pink fur dulled into a candyfloss blond, while what was once the blue lens of his eyes melted away to reveal the red hue of his eyes. A third eye opened at the center of his forehead.
What stepped out of the dying flame was not Cherubimon, but another horror even greater. "This is the only way," he said, smiling. "The only way to kill them all."
Ken's transformation broke Puppetmon out of his trance.
The way friends change always reminded him of that moment. Maybe that was why Puppetmon did it, why he was so fascinated with turning friends against each other. Breaking up Matt and Tai, forcing them to fight... It was a fun, fun, fun game, just like that day in the woods, the day all his friends died. The day his best friend killed them all, friends that had one time been his, as well.
"Kill me," Ken told Stingmon and Yolei, holding out his hands. "I can't hurt you two. You'll have to kill me! Now!"
"No!" Yolei screamed.
"Never!" Stingmon agreed.
Puppetmon chuckled. He flicked his wrist.
Ken surged toward Yolei, hands arched to wrap around her throat. With a SNAP, they found their target, pressing hard against it. Yolei seized up, crying, trying to hold back the tears so unsuccessfully.
"Ken... you can fight this..." she whispered, trying to reach up to touch him, but Puppetmon cracked her arms back down to her sides. "Ken..."
"YOU CAN'T CHANGE WHO YOU ARE, KENNY-BOY," Puppetmon belted.
"I'm so sorry," he was muttering, bowing his head, shaking.
"You're quiet and silly," she choked out. "Even though you have the IQ of a genius, you're ignorant of social interactions and cues. You never speak your mind so no one knows what your true feelings are. You're always sacrificing your needs for others, because you're a doormat sometimes."
"Okay," Ken frowned. "I want to say you're making this easier, but you're not."
She grinned and gave a rough, strangled laugh that made both Ken and Stingmon wince. "But you're beautiful, too, you know. Not just physically. You're gentle. You're patient, because you've learned from your own experience that patience is valued. People were patient and understanding of you when you needed them to be and that meant so much to you. You appreciate everything. You're thankful for the tiniest, silliest things— you 'stop to smell the flowers', cliché as it sounds. You have a great heart that is accepting of even the most gruesome people, because you know from experience that people can change, that certain events and circumstances can cause a person to not act the best they can be. You're never petty or condescending – at least nowadays, hahah! – and you're thoughtful. You still worry about not being good enough, or think that you deserve being mistreated, because of your wrongdoings. You're always sorry for the bad things, just like you're always thankful for the good.
"And you never believe in your best qualities. You said one of my good qualities is honesty, so believe in me." Her fingers twitched. Puppetmon frowned. She reached up, linking her fingers in his, able to edge them away from her neck. Smiling, tears spilling, she continued, "You never believe you can combat the things you can. This won't beat you. That's impossible, because you're Ken Ichijouji. My Ken Ichijouji."
"Yolei..."
And suddenly, Ken wasn't shaking anymore.
Puppetmon's fingers moved furiously, but instead of being pulled from Ken, Yolei leaned forward, unwrapped her fingers from his hands, and cupped his cheeks between her palms. Closing her eyes, Yolei kissed him.
"No," Puppetmon growled, yanking back his elbow, but still nothing happened. "Listen to me!"
But Yolei hadn't budged an inch.
"You're right," she said to Ken after she pulled away. "This is the perfect time."
Ken's hands began to glow a bright green light. Heat permeated from them. A light breeze whirled around them from Yolei, her purple hair weaving through the wind and grazing his cheek. Within seconds, vines burst from Ken's palms, entwining the two of them, blue and gray and purple flowers blossoming as petals were swept up in the billowing winds.
He was as red as a cherry, but smiling. Stingmon sniffled. Puppetmon groused.
"You're right, too," Ken told Yolei. The strings connected to his veins went slack. Puppetmon howled in outrage, trying to pull him away, but Ken turned in his direction and pointed his palm at the wooden digimon.
"All my life," Ken said, the glowing green light filtering his face, his arms, his legs. Vines sprouted from the cracked concrete, unfurling like whips around him. Puppetmon found himself surrounded by a pulsing, thriving forest, thrumming from this simple, human boy. "All of it," he went on, "I've been a slave to darkness, allowing it to control me, to make a puppet out of me. This time will be different. This time, I won't be a pawn in its game!"
And the green light burst from him. The flora erupted all around Puppetmon, poring into him, ripping open his limbs, his chest, his back, his legs, beckoning him on his knees. Blossoms sprouted along his cheeks, sand unfurling from the concrete beneath his knees. A butterfly fluttered across his sight, smelling of honeysuckle.
"No..." Puppetmon muttered, quivering. "No, not like this!" he screamed as the vines rushed through him, filling him. "I can't die again! Not before seeing him! Not before Beelzemon is back!"
I swore I would see him again... Puppetmon whispered to himself, watching as the gloved hands risen toward the sky burst into white bytes of data. I promised I'd watch him descend from the heavens... I promised... I'd meet that child...
That child of his who meant so much to him...
I...
...wish I'd had friends...
("We are such fools for love," Cherubimon says)
And then he, like the teeming forest around him, burst into data.
(-'10201100'-)
Preview for Next Chapter:
-"Get away from me. Something... inside of me... is trying to get out..." "What?" "You never listen! I said GO."
-If only I'd been stronger... Then maybe I could have stopped this from happening, stopped it by killing him six months ago instead of giving him mercy. I thought that was what my grandfather would have wanted, until he killed my grandfather.
-"Ah, there you are, squirt. Was wondering if I'd have another opportunity to kill someone else you love."
Tune in next time to Lighthouse Session VII: The Cataclysm of the Lost Child!
