Ladies and Gents, tonight we present to you...

THE DEMON CHRONICLES

The mighty, the infamous, the sinister and chaotic pasts of the one and only Seven Great Demon Lords

Never again will any of them be the same

Never Again

"Pretending he's a teacher
Holding all my weight at ease
Yet the teacher seems to split in two
Destroying both his knees"

—Blue October

Disclaimer: I am absolutely not making profit off of this fanfic—any infringement is not intended and never will be.
Rating: PG-13 / T
Genre/s: Adventure, Action, Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Horror
Currently Listening To: "Drilled A Wire Through My Cheek" by Blue October.
Description: Everyone has secrets, even the Demon Lords. Told in eight sessions, we learn the Scourge of the Digi-Underworld's pasts, what brought them together, and the viciousness of their great founder.
Author's Note: Welcome to the last Demon Lord's chronicle. Please have a fun ride and remember to wear your seatbelts - and if you're interested, take a look at The Demon Chronicles soundtrack on my profile! It will guide you to all songs and lyrics on a digital magic carpet ride.

So, without further adieu, here it is: the last chronicle before we embark on the final four-part session.

The Demon Chronicles

"There is no clarity. Everything swirls. The old rules are no longer binding, the old truths no longer true. Right spills over into wrong. Order blends into chaos, love into hate, ugliness into beauty, law into anarchy, civility into savagery."

—Tim O'Brien

Session Seven
.Lilithmon.

Ker-thump, ker-thump, ker-thump

Gaaaah
Toooooh
muuuhn

Darkness.

A deep, listless darkness.

Swallowing her, consuming her, blurring all her senses – her sight, her hearing, her sense of smell, taste, feel...

All of it...

Vanished within a second.

Gaaaatooooomoooon

Pain.

Sharp.

A sting that traveled up her spine to her temples, like someone brought a knife to the top of her head and cracked it open like a watermelon. She winced, yet, when she winced, she couldn't feel it, couldn't feel anything at all – couldn't feel her muscles move, or stiffen, or pause. Couldn't feel her eyelids squeeze shut, or watch as light became dark (stretched so far, so far away, that darkness stretched like that abyss the abyss she'd stared into her whole entire life the abyss that stared back).

There was no light in that stretching darkness; darkness that rose above her like a wave and descended upon her, consuming her in one swoop like the jaws of a ravenous wolf.

Ga

At least until a hand reached out

To

The hand of her partner, the girl she loved most, loved above all

Mon

Yagami Hikari

Gatomon

Chosen of Light

Then, just like that, just as she reached out her hand to take the small human girl's, both of them were swallowed in the shadows of hatred and despair. All of it – the world, the fright, the worries of everyday life – faded, and she was left alone. Alone to weep, to wonder, to avenge.

Gatomon.

Gaaatooomoooon.

Lil
Ith
Mon

Demon of Lust

Lust for blood, and the lust that reached and grabbed and held, melded with blood, flesh, bone; melded and fused and waited, waited to create something else...

Someone else...

Ker-thump, ker-thump, ker-thump, her heart said. Ker-thump, ker-thump, ker—

"Gatomon."

A man's voice – or, rather, a digimon's voice.

"Gatomon, take my hand."

A hand. Pale, blue-tinted, yet reaching out through the darkness to take her – take her and hold her and tell her that never again would the darkness consume her. He would take care of her. Always take care of her.

(Yes, Gatomon...)

THUMP

(...Take his hand...)

She took his hand, and the pain...

KER-THUMP, KER-THUMP, KER-THUMP

...Oh baby, that pain STOPPED...

.+.

CRUNCH

Her hand lanced through the digimon's chest, blood spraying the air like dust particles. The digimon, blond hair beginning to taint red, winced and pulled away from her, attempting to lunge through a window. However, with a sneer, she grabbed him by the ruff of his shirt and shoved him against a wall.

He tilted his head to the side, eyes half-lidded – pulled his lip back in a toothy snarl, showing his bloodstained fangs, clenched as he let out a draconic hiss. At the sound, she merely grinned, leaned toward him, and watched the light dull within his eyes. The light within hers had faded long before then.

"Myotismon."

Her voice was firm, deep, sultry. It caught his full attention within seconds, his muscles tensing as she pinned his palms to the wall behind him with her claws. Nails bit into pale flesh, causing him to slightly grimace.

This was it.

This was him.

This was her revenge for so long ago.

Bit by bit, she watched the colors of the dawn blur and coincide. She watched as the colors then faded into navy blue and black, illuminated only by the silver glow of the moon and the stars. She watched for so long as those colors blurred and faded, never knowing when the silver glow would fall upon her as it did when she was younger.

She'd let those colors blur to save her. To save her, the one she'd searched for all her life, the one who let the pieces fall across the chessboard as they may. She'd not touched a single piece to play, yet all of them resided around her. Yagami Hikari was not the queen.

She was the king.

And her partner, oh yes darling yes, was the queen, always by Yagami Hikari's side, always, to protect her and defend her. All the pieces were lined up. Lined up and ready to be played. And so she wondered:

Had Myotismon any idea whose claws pierced him right at that second?

Did he know?

Then, as if reading her thoughts, those snarling lips curled. Curled, and he was left to lean forward, let his forehead gently rest against her shoulder as she pinned him to the wall. Through clenched fangs, he said, "I know... who you are... Who you were... You might have been a good little kitty then, but that's not who you are now, is it?"

Panting, she hissed and released him, allowing his feet to touch the ground before her arm made another sweeping motion and pinned him to a table. Voice still strong and unrelenting, she growled, "Then you know what I want."

Myotismon's eyes narrowed.

He hesitated.

Then, beads of sweat forming above his temples, he swallowed, staring deep into those dark eyes of hers. Such a dark beauty those eyes held, able to entrance even the most loyal of men. Myotismon, who wasn't loyal at all, was no different. He was swine now compared to her.

"I do," he replied. His voice was calmer than hers – his disposition one of peaceful thought and unity – graceful and refined. It made her sick to her stomach. But then again, Myotismon always made her sick to her stomach. Now he had no control over her, though, now he could never have control over her. That grin he held. That note of seduction he carried within his voice. Every single elegant and perfect nuance about him would no longer affect her ever again. She listened to him keenly as he continued, "But I want something, as well."

"Of course," she hissed.

CRUNCH

With a titter, she picked him up off the table and – WHAM – slammed him back down. He choked, limbs moving as if he were a frail rag doll in her grasp. In truth, comparing his strength to hers, that's exactly what he was – just a meek, worthless doll for her fingers to control. Her strings extended everywhere – even to the Lilymon waitress who gasped a few feet away from them. She quickly ran out of the room before more destruction ensued, fearing the worst of two demonic warlords meeting in Bernie's Bar.

"I think you fail at comprehension, Master," Lilithmon hissed. "I don't care what you want. What you want doesn't matter. You don't matter."

Her clench around his throat tightened.

"Oh?" Myotismon's lips curled higher. He reached forward to grip one of her hands around his throat, fangs glinting in the dim pub light. "...I don't matter, yet I am the only one who can give you his position."

She wanted to wipe that smirk off his face so badly. Heh, she wanted to wipe that face off his face so badly.

She could've.

Easily.

"Stop grinning," she said, eyes falling half-lidded. "You look even more like a freak."

"I'm just amused, Gatomon," Myotismon said. "If it weren't for me, you would've never even met her. Would've never met the Chosen of Light. Would've stayed a pathetic creature wandering the Digital World – always searching. Always looking. Isn't that how you found Wizardmon? You poor creature. I can see it—"

Lilithmon's muscles tensed.

She could feel her throat tighten.

"—'Wizardmon, oh, Wizardmon!'" he mocked. "How pathetically cute, you two bonding over such codependent things."

"...'Codependent'?"

She bowed her head, darkness obscuring her expression. Her grip tightened more on his neck, but as a vampire king, he obviously couldn't care less. Who needed air when you would just be reborn anyway? Over, and over, and over again. Life never stopped for a digimon. Sometimes you remembered your past life or lives, and sometimes...

You don't.

Myotismon did.

He did very well.

And Lilithmon knew that.

"Aw, what's wrong?" Myotismon said, gripping her wrist tautly. "Does it hurt to hear his name?"

Again, with a resounding crunch!, she slammed his back into the table. Another splatter. Another gsh, and he choked on his words as he tried to say them. She reached for his face with one of her hands – a hand that sizzled and popped with searing energy, that grappled and burned his flesh as she grabbed him by the chin. Myotismon hissed and tried to move his face away, but it was too late.

That smell.

Decay... and rotting meat.

Her arm—it belonged to the cadavers, deep within the soil.

"Trash..." she uttered.

Myotismon, face in a half-wince, said, "...What was that?"

CRUNCH

He threw his head back in a silent scream as her arm slid through his chest – putting a hole into the table beneath him – as if he were butter. Pain traveled up her arm to her elbow, and from her elbow to her head. Again, there was that sharp pain, like pins and needles to her temple. But that didn't matter now. All that mattered was getting her – getting them – back.

Feeling her arm pierce him felt so good she actually did scream.

(I hope you like fishing, Gatomon...)

"Trash..." she repeated through clenched teeth, gaze darkening as her throat tightened. Muscles tightened. The air around her tightened.

(You are going to be the perfect bait to lure out the eighth Digi Destined child.)

"You're trash, Myotismon," Lilithmon hissed, eyes narrowed into a solemn glare. "Pathetic creature. Compared to me now, you are less than cannon fodder. Tell me—why would you think I would give you ANYTHING?"

Hand still through his chest (and the table), she threw him across the room. With a sickening snap, his back crunched against the bar counter. She grinned and, flicking her wrist while one-handedly crk-crk-cracking her knuckles, she said, "Today's just not your day, Vampire King. I'll slice you up, bit by bit, and hang you to dry. Tell me..."

The Demon Lord of Lust tittered, tilting her head to the side, as Myotismon coughed and bent over, grasping the tiled floor as he began to vomit blood.

"What do you think of jerky?" she cooed, hands gripping into fists. He stared blankly at the floor with narrowed eyes – eyes that she smiled at as if he were nothing. Nothing at all. With a hum, she continued, "Silly question, I know, but it's a very important one because... I've been thinking..."

Fingernails digging into the flooring, he slowly brought his glare to the seductress, fangs clenched. Ooo, how intimidating, Mr. Myotismon! Anyone would be scared by that sharp glare, except Lilithmon wasn't intimidated in the least. No, not even the great and mighty and widely-feared Myotismon could make her shudder.

"I think jerky is very amusing... the way you cut the meat, smoke it, watch all that blood and all that oil just - dry up," she whispered, eyes lighting up, shimmering, brighter than they'd been in a long time. "...But I think I would enjoy making my own kind of jerky. I think... I'd like to test out my abilities. So, Myotismon, will you help me out a bit? Tell me... which one should it be?"

He couldn't intimidate her anymore. Never again.

"Which limb...?" Again, she tittered, body shifting so that she leaned above his nearly limp figure. Her laughing expression brought a surprised look to his eye, a surprised look that faded as soon as her laughing stopped – stopped and became nothing but a deep, dark silence. A glare. "Which limb will be the first to go, Myotismon?"

He didn't answer.

Instead, he looked her in the eye and gave nothing but a growl – a deep, malignant growl.

"So this is you now, Gatomon?" he whispered, eyes slanting as he began to stand, holding his wounds. She could tell he was holding back – normally by now, Myotismon would fight back, no matter the enemy. He'd call his army. Everyone. Granted, they'd all die by Lilithmon's hands before they could get within even a few yards of this place, but Myotismon would've tried regardless. But... she knew... Myotismon was a prideful digimon, and he wanted to settle this with her mon-to-mon. Either that or he'd gone completely nuts. After all, she used to be his wonderful and best servant – now she was going to kill him. And neither doubted that fact one bit. Regardless, he continued, "Killing, maiming, cruelty... I thought you abandoned me to get away from bloodshed. Yet you get some power and you've become just like me."

Lilithmon suddenly paused.

Clenched her fists.

"Are you doing this to find Hikari, dear?" Myotismon said, blood falling from the corner of his lips. "Or... could it be... because of Angewomon?"

Ange...

womon...

She snapped.

At the sound of that name – that four-syllable word – AN GE WO MON – her fist sailed through the air and plunged into the bar counter as Myotismon completely evaded her attack. Then, in a swift reverse of events, he grabbed her by the arm and snapped it against her own spine, bending her backwards as he leaned forward and—

Bit her.

He bit her neck.

She went numb.

Completely numb.

In all her days, even when she was a Gatomon serving under him, he'd never bitten her. He'd never needed to, because he liked human girls, or even sometimes LadyDevimon if she were up to it. Gatomon was his best warrior. He didn't want to weaken her.

But now he didn't care.

He just wanted the blood.

"Myotismon..." she hissed. "Disgusting."

He held her in place, wrapping his arms around her back, pushing her into him, his chest against her own, his blood mixing with hers. Something within her – the darkness within her soul, the darkness GranDracmon had given her three years ago – stirred. It stirred and laughed and tittered, and enjoyed feeling those fangs bite deep into her flesh.

She weakened, breathing in deep, breathing in the scent of copper and his own smell of cologne and alcohol. With delicate hands, Lilithmon reached forward one hand to rest against his back, the other against his head.

Stimulating.

That bite...

Absolutely...

Stimulating.

No.

There was another crack and his back hit the counter, his mouth filled with blood as he grinned up at her, her face two inches from his. The counter (SNAPPED) and his back hit the ground with a (CRUNCH). Plowing her fist into his stomach – but not quite through – he hissed and grabbed his gut, watching as her foot then glided upward – SL-SL-SLAMMING into his chest. Rotted hand

Dug into flesh

Twiiiiiisted

And eyes watched him

BLEED

Her chest stirred again.

She grinned.

Chuckled.

Felt blood run down her hands.

"So..." he choked, breathing in deep as she stood in front of him, her bloodied hand raised and clenched into a fist. He grabbed his chest and hissed, "How does your revenge feel, Lilithmon?"

Her foot crunched against his kneecap.

He hissed.

She smiled warmly.

"Splendid..." crunch. "So, Myotismon, tell me. Where is GranDrac—"

"Where is Wizardmon?" Myotismon cut her off. Grinned through bloodied teeth. Again, she tensed, body unable to move as the word slid across his lips. Wizardmon. Wizardmon. Her chest no longer stirred, but ached. The virus – it'd truly taken over her body, hadn't it? She'd meant to be Ophanimon. Meant to only be the light. That's all she wanted, was to find the light, Hikari! But she'd only remained in darkness, full of pain and loneliness. That word... Wizardmon... "I locked his data when I killed him, Lilithmon. Locked it tight behind the doors of time."

So.

He realized there was no trace of Gatomon left behind, had he?

Lilithmon.

The name made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Wizard... mon..." she couldn't even speak. The name got caught in her throat before she could even finish it.

He grinned.

She was paralyzed.

"The Heavenly Lady, Angewomon..." Myotismon said. "At first, I thought Gatomon was Angewomon – not you. Not you. Anyone but this other digimon who calls herself Lilithmon."

"Angewomon—" Her chest. It was... aaaaching. Then there was another presence in the room – one that snapped her to attention immediately. Not her. Not Myotismon. Not the Lilymon waitress from before.

No, this was someone else – someone... darker.

"So shocking, to learn of your descent – again," Myotismon said. "I guess the old saying is wrong – you can teach an old dog new tricks. Hm, Lilithmon?"

But she wasn't paying attention.

No, she was too busy watching the figure at the corner of her eye. The figure of a man about half her size, wearing a dark blue cloak with blond hair that swept across his shoulders. His eyes were a light, icy blue that stared at her – glowing – through the darkness. Around him... it was all... darkness.

Her eyes widened.

Beads of sweat dotted her temples.

Wizardmon... she thought, swallowing.

(Gaaah
toooh
muuuhn)

"So..." Myotismon's voice grew stronger. His lips curled wider. His pupils grew into slits. "Where is he, Lilithmon?"

She drew away from the Vampire King, taking a dazed step toward the figure in the corner. Every step wavered, her knees growing weaker beneath her as she shuddered. Again, there was that sharp pain – that sting – that ran from her spine to her temples. She shuddered, feeling her pulse racing as she stared that figure in the face.

(Why'd you do it, Gatomon?)

Myotismon sat up, tilting his head to the side as he

Smirked

Stood

And tittered

"What happened to him...?" he whispered. "What happened to Wizardmon?"

(Why'd you spit on my memory?)

"Wizardmon..."

That night... that Hikari was taken from her... It was then that darkness covered her because he'd come—

Whispering whispering Graaandraaacmooon whispering whispering

—he'd come and she'd tried to reach for Hikari, tried to get her back, but as things were, darkness only grabbed the both of them. Grabbed them and took hold, took hold and turned Hikari into TRUE LIGHT because Hikari DID NOT GIVE UP did not give up and was KING, but Lilithmon oh Lilithmon was Gatomon and Gatomon had been SWALLOWED by the darkness in her search for Hikari, just like so many years ago just so many years

and finally QUEEN GATOMON became the DARKNESS and the DARKNESS became a DEMON and the DEMON became a LORD and the DEMON LORD became LIL ITH MON

For three years, she hadn't seen Hikari.
Three years.

But in that darkness, so long ago...

Another hand reached out to her. Kind, bright, daring and loving. So gentle. So tender. A hand that held her tightly. A hand that reached forward to caress her cheek and let her feel passion. Passion and rage and love and lust.

A hand not illuminated in the bright, crackling light.

But his hand. His hand. His hand. HIS HAND.

THE HAND OF...

"Wizardmon..." Myotismon hissed, lips brushing her ear seductively. "He's still dead."

Her heart clenched.

"And GranDracmon sent me..." ker-thump, ker-thump, ker-thump "...He wants you to know."

Ker-THUMP

"To know..."

Wizardmon in the corner of the room—

(his shadow, no, only his shadow, only his image, his ghost, his

– darkness ebbing at him from all edges –

his beautiful looming image she hungered for so much)

faded
faded away into the light

"...Everything..."

and did not return.

The sting in her temple vanished. Everything within her – her anger, her woe, her wonder – it all vanished, like darkness in the way of a torch. She couldn't touch the light anymore. She wanted to, but she couldn't – because Yagami Hikari was not her partner anymore. Because Lilithmon, the Demon Lord of Lust (bloodlust, bloodlust, bloodlust and for the OTHER creature... that creature of white feathers and strong voice... that creature who was a mother of the half-angel half-demon in another realm... that creature who is now—), now Lilithmon didn't care. She'd give it all.

Give it all to save Yagami Hikari... who would do the same for her.

"Alright, Myotismon," she said. Lilithmon (GRINNED) and (STOOD), tilted her (HEAD) to the side and (SMILED), raising a hand to simply (CRACK) her (KNUCKLES). "Tell me everything."

Myotismon's own grin widened as he leaned forward, eyes flashing beneath his brow. Her muscles tensed. Heart raced. He only softly chuckled, tipping her face toward his. He had the upper-hand now, because she wanted to know something only he knew. Only he did. Only. "First... tell me..."

She looked up, catching his curious gaze. Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting.

Smiling, he said, "What is that weight on your chest? That weight on your heart? Tell me, what is the weight that turns a digimon like Gatomon into... you?"

She paused, listening to his questions. It'd make sense for a creature like him to ask something so odd – he would never understand the delicate structure of light, and love, and care, and kindness. He would never understand love, and the lengths one goes to in order to protect that love. Silly, Lilithmon knew, how long of lengths she went to – but it didn't matter now, oh no, not now, not anymore. Nothing mattered anymore until she saved Hikari. Not even the light burning brightly within her chest, and the Crest and DigiEgg of Light grabbing her by the spine – by the chest – by the mind – and searing her whole body as her hand turned to rot, and her mind ached.

Until Lilithmon found Hikari, she would endure those sharp pains.

Together, she and her desire to save the light would do this.

Together.

No matter how screwed up it was.

"It's like I have this big weight on my chest, you know..." Lilithmon whispered, her fingernail lightly sliding up his chin, causing his grin to widen, his grip to tighten. She looked into those eyes of his, knowing what was going to happen, seeing it all play out before her eyes. "A weight that comes from bearing GranDracmon's child."

.+.

Don't

FUCK

With a

FUCKING

Demon Lord

.+.

Walls dyed red

Chair spattered and broken and splintered

Tables overturned and some cracked

Windows broken

Covered in red

Covered in gore

Data ascended

Data which curled around her fingertips as she caught bits and pieces of it, watching that bright blue and pink light illuminate her smiling red face. Then, just like that, the data carried high in the sky.

She walked out of Bernie's Bar, eyes flashing as she smiled humbly to herself, bringing a hand flatly against her cheek as she watched the last of dusk die, darkness consuming that once so-brightly-burning sky. The colors of dawn were blurring together again - except it was no longer dawn. Dusk had its turn now. Her eyes were gleaming, hand smearing dark red on her cheeks, purple shawl falling to her feet as she heavily, happily sighed.

"The Zenith Gate..." she whispered, smearing that blood across her lips as if it were lipstick. "So that is where you are, my dear... my beautiful... my deceitful lover... GranDracmon."

Do not forget, Lilithmon...

It is always darkest

before dawn

Wizardmon's voice died in her head then.

She knew she'd probably never hear it again.

.+.

Her name was Lilithmon.

However, at that time, she couldn't even dream of being someone like Lilithmon.

All she knew was that one cold winter night, when fallen to the red earth came the white snow (snow as white as angel wings, snow as pure as the Crest of Light), Wizardmon came to her.

Said he'd been reborn.

Said so many things.

He held out his hand to her in the darkness when no other hand did (as if any hand could reach out to her in that leering shadow), and, seeking the help of an old friend, of a friend she trusted, she took that hand.

Then, when the snow had melted away into crisp spring, a digimon was born...

A digimon who evolved into Angewomon.

A digimon with enough power to stop Lilithmon.

Her own daughter.

Gatomon.

Wizardmon.

Angewomon.

Or, at least, Gatomon had thought it was Wizardmon...

But it was not Wizardmon.
No, he had taken Wizardmon.
Imprisoned his DigiSoul in a cage.
Used his body to deceive her.
Used her best friend
.Wizardmon.
Got her hopes up
And took them away
It was NOT
It was

NEVER

Wizardmon

His name was

.GranDracmon.

And he took

YAGAMI HIKARI

He took

HER

And he

GAVE HER AWAY

Gave her to

DAGOMON

The Darkest Demon of all, Demon of the

DARK OCEAN

So he said

BECOME LUST

And only then

MAY YOU SEE HER AGAIN

But when Gatomon became Lust, became Lilithmon, a Great Demon Lord, she did not see Yagami Hikari. She'd heard Leviamon gave the Chosen of Light away; said he'd released her from his power... but where did the Chosen go? Only GranDracmon knew.

She did not see Yagami Hikari for years to come.

Now, however... Now, she would see Yagami Hikari once more. See her, and

TAKE

HER

BACK

.+.

Lilithmon became acquainted with six other digimon that year; six other digimon who'd come in contact with a creature named GranDracmon. Some had traveled from whole other dimensions, some traveled across time; some had heard of her, and others had pasts just as strange as her. Lilithmon was not alone, and though she could have relied on the other Destined to help her

She did not

Could not

Would not

Because she was

twisted.

And the Destined, after all, thought it was Lilithmon who'd taken Yagami Hikari away in the first place, not realizing that Lilithmon, herself, was Gatomon, their friend's partner.

So she'd get Yagami Hikari back.

She, and the other six digimon:

...Prideful Lucemon, whose axe hungered for one more limb to chop.

(
CRACK, the axe hollered, CRAAACK, OH – FAH – NEE – MON
)

...Wrathful Demon, who killed his own brother to get this far.

(
"Wrath... you said you would carry out his wrath before..."
crk, crk, crk
"I like that. Wrath. It sounds..."
CRK CRK

"...Powerful..."
)

...Greedy Barbamon, who promised to give back what GranDracmon had taken.

(
I love you, Simone...
I want you, Simone...
Oh God, I want all of you, Simone...
)

...Envious Leviamon, whose heart had enough, enough, enough.

(
Leviathan, something in his head said. The sky is clear.
No snow, no snow, we've got no snow
The sky is

CLEAR
)

...Gluttonous Beelzemon, who swore not to kill GranDracmon, but to make him SCREAM.

(
Renamon, Ai, Mako, Juri... I promise...
Clk-clk says his hungry gun so horribly starved for revenge for blood for anger for power
So so hungry
I will remember you
)

...Slothful but Raging Belphemon, who would avenge his mother, his sister, his partner, and rectify his own mistakes with his past. He would not be slothful again.

(
Look deep, Kaikatsu, Look very deep
And all you shall see...
IS

BELPHEMON
)

...And now, Lustful Lilithmon, who would NEVER give up her search for Yagami Hikari, her partner, her friend, her everything. Lilithmon, who would return to her daughter (ANGEWOMON) one day, and give her daughter the life she never had because her mother was always on the run, always looking, her whole life – searching – for the Eighth DigiDestined Child.

(
A hand reaches out into the darkness
A hand using light only as a mask, using love and tenderness as a veil, using the darkness as an excuse.
A hand she thought was Wizardmon's, but no, oh no,
It was the hand of FATE
HER FATE
The FATE that GRANDRACMON had FORCED upon her
And for that,
NONE OF THEM WOULD GIVE UP EVER AGAIN
)

Together, as they ran through many Digital Worlds—Earths—eras—traveled across time and the very threads of fate—spurring terror and chaos all in their bloody search for GranDracmon, they'd gained a name. A name that struck fear within the hearts of many.

Together, they were known as

-( . THE SEVEN GREAT DEMON LORDS . )-