THE DEMON CHRONICLES

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: "No One Knows" by Queens of the Stone Age
Description: Takeru. Ken. Demon. They each have their fair share of brother issues.
Author's Note: It's only Demon's and Barbamon's sessions that are super long. The rest of the Demon Lords have average-sized session lengths, I promise! Sorry for the length of these, for those who grimace at the sight of long sessions. :)

The Demon Chronicles
Session 9
.
Wrath.

Brothers...

They have the power to improve you, to fuel you, to make you into something you never thought you could be. For a boy, an older brother makes them into a man. For a girl, an older brother is her protector, her keeper, the one who will never let her go astray.

For Demon, his brother was an impenetrable rock, whose size grew every year until it became an immense boulder, with a shadow that extended over all others, even Demon. For him, his brother was a man to defy, because Seraphimon was the only father Demon had ever truly known. Their real father—Alphamon—had business to attend to in whole other dimensions. As a royal knight, their home dimension was only a dimension for him to travel to, and it wasn't even his home dimension at that. Because their father was so absent all the time, Seraphimon had taken it upon his shoulders to be Demon's father, brother, and sometimes, even mother, who they had no recognition of. Demon took his brother's life.

For Ken, his brother was taken from him by a bustling semi-truck shambling down a dark road midday. Ken's brother was someone he aspired to be like; someone Ken wanted to not only be like, but wanted to be better than, because Osamu was everyone's favorite. Everyone knew Osamu. Everyone liked Osamu. Everyone admired Osamu. And no one knew Ken. No one liked Ken. No one admired Ken. Just like everyone knew Osamu, everyone knew Seraphimon; just like everyone admired Osamu, everyone admired Seraphimon; just like no one knew Ken, no one knew Demon; no one admired Ken, no one admired Demon.

For Takeru, his brother was a beacon of his hope. There were many reasons why Takeru was the bearer of Hope, but if it weren't for his older brother, then he would not be the pristine miracle he is today. His brother taught him the meaning of friendship (Taichi, Hikari), the meaning of hope (Daisuke, Miyako, Iori), and the meaning of the fighting spirit (Sora, Koushiro, Mimi, Jou). Unlike Demon and unlike Ken, Takeru never lost his brother. He still had his, and his older brother would always be that beacon of hope, to guide him when he was lost, to bring him to his knees, to pick up when he fell. Takeru was never jealous of Yamato, never aspired to be better than Yamato, never disliked Yamato. In a lot of ways, their relationship was how a brotherhood should be. Ken wished Osamu would have disappeared because he couldn't understand why no one liked him like they liked Osamu; Demon made his brother disappear because he was in the way of Demon's ascending benignity; when Yamato disappeared back when they were facing Puppetmon, Takeru became stronger, and fought to gain Yamato back.

In truth, each of the three parallels had never truly understood each other, yet there was still that innate connection that flowed throughout their destinies, interlocking them, tightening them, binding them together. It wasn't only older brothers that tied them together, it was everything those brothers meant, and the destiny that chose at just that precise moment to be an ironic bastard.

Demon, of course, was the extreme. He was an Angemon who sought to be ruler of the kingdom. His brother, who was a Seraphimon and the prodigy of Alphamon's children, was heir of that kingdom. However, because Seraphimon sought a different type of rulership than Alphamon had in mind, he was regarded a tyrant and, despite his double agenda, Demon put Seraphimon to an end with the help of a mysterious voice. Demon, as an Angemon at that time, would then rise up to become a Seraphimon as well, and of course, the mysterious voice would continue to haunt him and twist him and bend him until he became the very definition of demon, thus named Demon itself. And as for Seraphimon, his older brother, he would be reborn centuries later as the partner of golden boy Takeru Takaishi.

Ken was the middleground. He had a moderately kind and considerate brother who loved him and looked out for him, who taught him and befriended him, but despite the good times, there were also a lot of hard times and a lot of fighting. Ken, just as Demon, was jealous of his brother's success, and as such, he made a bad wish, and his wish was granted. It was a wish he would later regret, a wish that set him off the deep end and into madness, only to be reeled back in by the soothing love and kindness of his partner and someday-friends. It was both his love and hatred for Osamu that drove him to madness, with the help of the dark spore, and it was also that love and hatred that drove him from madness, to atone for his sins as the Kaiser.

And Takeru, lovely boy, was the prodigy of the trio. Despite a few disagreements as most siblings sometimes had, Takeru and Matt had a relationship that defined all the good points of brotherhood, what it should be, and what it should not be.

Of course it was these three that destiny chose to entwine, because they were three who could understand each other more than anyone else. Demon, whose once-corrupt brother was reborn as Takeru's partner. Takeru's partner, the Digimon Of Hope, the opposing crest of Wrath, Demon's greatest sin. Ken, who was knocked aside easily by Takeru, whose greatest wrath was with darkness itself, a darkness the Kaiser sought to harness. Ken, who held a Dark Spore that could gain access to millions of corrupt digimon who Demon could rule, a Dark Spore he wished to obtain from the boy. And finally, Demon, who was tied to the two boys, who were tied to him, who were tied to each other.

As said before, as the four creatures stared at each other alone in the empty Dark Ocean depths, Demon couldn't help but recite one final time, Destiny... is one ironic bitch.

"Thought you couldn't come back, Demon," Takeru hissed between clenched teeth.

"We sealed you in the Dark Area!" Ken yelled, rushing through the silver sands and pointing a scraggly finger at Demon's face. Teeth clenched, he growled, "And don't think because I don't have my partner that I won't take you on anyway. I will if need be, I'm sick of seeing you."

"Demon..." It was the only thing Patamon managed to utter. It was odd, Demon thought, seeing Patamon up so close. He'd stayed far away from the digimon during his little detour to Earth, in order to not bring up any repressed memories the reborn digimon might have had. After all, Patamon had already died once before. It was rare when digimon remembered things from one past life, much less two past lives ago.

Even so, Patamon's eyes glazed over as he stared into the red glow of Demon's bulging eyes. And Demon, whose gaze rested on the two humans, merely gave a low, dark chuckle.

"I am sealed in the Dark Area," he said. "The Dark Ocean is a part of that Dark Area, and seeing as I cannot reach your Earth, instead I have brought you to me. It's unfortunate that my efforts included your blond friend, though. It's a pity I'll have to kill his partner again."

Ken's brow furrowed, as did Takeru's. However, Demon lurched forward before either could comprehend his words, much less his movements. Raising a single hand with claws extending in yanked-sharpness from his cuticles, his arm plunged from the air and hurdled toward Patamon's wide-eyed face.

"Patamon!" Takeru screamed.

Demon didn't know why, or how, but just as his claws were two inches from Patamon's face, his arm stopped. His fingers twitched. His elbow shook. Nothing was holding him back, not even some invisible force, yet, swirling and pooling inside his chest, Demon knew that not even the mysterious voice could convince him to plunge those claws into the surprised face of his unknowing brother.

Seeing Demon hesitate, Ken dropped to his knees, panting, gobs of sweat dripping down his temples. Takeru didn't hesitate to lunge forward and rip Patamon from his place, moving just in time as Demon let go of himself and instead hit the sand where Patamon once was. Holding the rookie to his chest, Takeru glared at Demon, teeth clenched in a hiss.

Demon, though the three couldn't see it, smirked.

How amusing... he innerly thought, suppressing a wince. I can't kill him. It's almost touching.

"Except when you tried to kidnap Ken, I'm sure I've never seen you my whole entire life and I'm damn sure Patamon hasn't, either," Takeru snarled. "The reason I'm here is because YOU assisted GranDracmon in Hikari's abduction. Now you will tell me where she is, or I will obliterate you."

Demon's eyes fell half-lidded.

"Handsome," he muttered, sitting up-straight as he deadpanned and tossed a careless glance toward Ken. "You think you can harm me. Really, the Demon Lord of Wrath. I know it's been a few years since we faced each other, but you couldn't have grown this halfwitted in my absence. Now listen closely, Hikari was released by Leviamon. If she's not back on Earth yet, then I'd imagine someone else is playing with her now, probably someone not as nice as Leviamon, either."

Takeru's eyes widened.

Demon again smirked, this time deeper, fangs glinting against the gray light – allowing them to glance at the superior energy that radiated from his skin, an invisible force that pushed against them, that heightened the gravity and weighted against their shoulders, made them feel like they were carrying the world on their chests. It was only a metaphorical power he held, a certain charm, that he was sure the two could feel.

After all, they'd just gotten wind that now their friend was in the hands of someone else, someone worse. It was heavy news.

Perhaps they're wondering why I told them? He thought amusedly. Shall I tell them?

Takeru quickly regained his composure.

"Certainly didn't have to twist your arm for that," Takeru growled. "Tell me the truth."

"That is the truth," Demon replied nonchalantly. "Actually, I'm quite in need of your assistance."

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in.

"...What?" Both Ken and Takeru spoke at the same time, Patamon's jaw dropping to an almost unhinged state.

"You see... I have these friends. Six of them, in fact," he said.

"Yeah, we heard," Takeru growled. "One of your 'friends' kidnapped Hikari. Why the hell would we help you? Lilithmon is the one who started this!"

Demon laughed, darkly, malevolently. He reached through the darkness and grabbed Takeru by the wrist. The blond boy shouted out in surprise, Patamon calling his name, but Demon only lifted him from his feet into the air, examining the boy's size. Patamon – who'd toppled from Takeru's grasp – floundered in front of them and howled with rage, throwing attack after attack at Demon. However, the attacks didn't hinder him in the least. In fact, each attack reminded him of a bug smashed against a windshield.

"Lilithmon was not the one who took Hikari from you," Demon replied. Takeru's eyes widened, as did Patamon's and Ken's, but before he could continue, Takeru gave a ravenous scream of frustration as he pounded his foot into Demon's gut. Even so, his grip only tightened on the boy's wrist.

"Liar!" Takeru growled. "I SAW her take Hikari! She took my best friend! Give her back! GIVE MY FRIEND BACK TO ME. Gatomon... Gatomon's daughter... they've all disappeared, looking for Hikari! Give ALL of them back, it's your fault they're gone!"

All signs of amusement faded from Demon's eyes. Before, he didn't mind playing with the pathetic human. This was, after all, the human who managed to snag his older brother, and it was always amusing to examine such specimens. Ken he'd already examined to the point of knowing him better than the back of his own hand, studying the old Kaiser was dull now, nothing compared to seeing everything Takeru had become in the past years. That was only because, Demon realized, Takeru was his brother's partner, and Takeru had his own relationship with his older brother. They were on opposite ends of the spectrum; black and white; orange and blue; purple and yellow; red and green.

"It's not my fault Gatomon gave her soul to GranDracmon to find Hikari," Demon said. Immediately, Takeru stopped struggling. He was limp for a few seconds, pale, paling. "Why a female like Gatomon would give up something so precious for a pathetic, scumbitch human is beyond me, though."

"You're lying." He shook his head. "Stop lying."

He didn't struggle this time. He didn't even put up a fight.

"Gatomon wouldn't do something like that," Patamon said a few feet away. He shook his head, defiantly stepping forward and snarling. "She'd find another way to find Hikari!"

"You'll believe whatever you want to," Demon said with a shrug. "Creatures like you always do, believing your friends are infallible. You'll never understand Gatomon's position until you, yourself, must choose between the person you love most and your own soul, let's see how strong you are when you decide between the two. It wasn't Lilithmon who abducted Hikari, it was GranDracmon, so he could lure Leviamon into his web of deception by granting Leviamon's greatest desire. Lilithmon didn't steal Hikari, because Lilithmon is Gatomon, you fools. I can't blame you for thinking that, though. After all, GranDracmon is quite the mastermind. Ken."

As Takeru and Patamon stared agape at the figure, he turned his attention to the dark-haired boy. Ken hardly registered his words before he was torn toward Demon, who smiled toothily, his clawed hand reaching out to the human.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, I need your Dark Spore," he said bluntly. "It's the only way I can defeat GranDracmon. Give it up, or you all die and I'll get it anyway. Keeping you alive is just a favor for Lilithmon, but I don't mind angering her if it means a swifter coup de grace deliverance to GranDracmon."

"Why should I believe you?" Takeru growled. "Why should any of us?"

"Silence, boy, I am no longer speaking to you and you have thoroughly worn out my patience," Demon snapped, focusing his attention now on Ken. Yes, he'd enjoyed observing Takeru for some time, especially after he realized Patamon was his reincarnated brother. However, now his patience and his time was thin, and the other Demon Lords would be expecting him back any moment. "The Dark Spore has several purposes. One, it can turn whoever it infects into a super-genius super-strong super-human if given the right amount of nurturing. Two, it can develop more seeds and implant itself into other digimon, giving them the same abilities while also allowing them to become more easily influenced by superior forces of darkness such as myself. Three, if implanted within that superior force of darkness, such as myself, it can allow me to tenfold – possibly even hundredfold – my own power."

"Right," Ken spat, suddenly his brow furrowed. The Ex-Kaiser was no longer silent, while Takeru and Patamon had resigned themselves to silently, blankly staring ahead, no longer a thinking entity but a white slate of vacant epiphany. Ken didn't waste any time trying to snatch them from their reverie, he knew what it was like to be in that place, he'd visited it many a-time himself. Now he just needed to speak to Demon, because he was the only one there strong enough to think clearly, to remember who he was, who he'd become, and who the Dark Spore made him into. "Yeah, like I'm going to give you the Dark Spore. And what about when GranDracmon is done for? What'll happen then? I'll tell you what'll happen then, you'll try to conquer Earth and the Digital World."

Demon let out a roaring hiss. He tossed Takeru and Patamon into the ocean absentmindedly in his vapid hurdle toward Ken. His claws pressing against the boy's throat, he pinned him to the nearby cliffside, face so close he could feel the human's ragged breath on the tip of his nose. He'd expected Ken to flinch. The human hadn't even glared or hissed or winced. No, he only stared ahead, frowning, determined... unafraid.

Somehow, that only angered Demon more. It was as if the human hadn't recognized his sparse predicament, that all Demon had to do was press a little deeper and he'd lose an artery. He'd bleed to death and die within moments, possibly seconds depending on the deepness of the puncture (and knowing how impatient Demon was, he wouldn't be surprised if he plunged deep).

He let out a beastly snarl toward the human.

However, Ken only grinned in response, an old fire lighting his eyes.

Demon was shaking furiously, frustratedly.

"I've never desired to conquer this Earth or Digital World," Demon growled. "I've already conquered countless Earths and countless Digital Worlds, this is the only dimension whose Earth I cannot venture on. Do you understand that? I don't care about your world. Most of the time, I do not even bother conquering dimensions, I just destroy them. Ken, do you know my sin?"

Ken's jaw tightened. In the background, Demon saw from the corner of his eye Takeru and Patamon rising from the water, the human's hair sopping wet and clothes soaked to the bone, the digimon's ears struggling to flap beside his head. Both their heads perked up in false curiosity, while Ken merely tensed.

Yes, the boy was probing.

But he would never admit it. At least, out loud.

Demon knew this temperament. He'd put up with it nearly every single day since Barbamon joined their group of seven, the genius was always curious but never admitting to it, at least until he'd already gotten his answers, to which he'd act as if he'd always known. Smartass bastard.

Ken was very much like Barbamon.

But he was more similar to Demon, in ways he did not even know of, but now he would. He'd know all of it.

"My brother was a prodigy," he told the human boy. Instantly, Ken's eyes brightened. He knew immediately where this story was going. Yes, there was dread painting his gaze, his skin placid and draped in sweat. Demon grinned, and he was just close enough that Ken could see his bloodstained chompers glinting from the darkness of his hood as he pinned the boy. "He'd gained glory and fame long before me, and the adoration and favoritism of our father. He'd heard GranDracmon's voice from the beginning, and he soon wrought havoc upon the world, saying he would fulfill GranDracmon's wrath. But he was only a delivery boy, one that I, an Angemon, killed, when he was a Seraphimon. Though I'd originally blamed my desire on jealousy, I realized it wasn't something so petty. I wasn't envious. I wasn't greedy. I was just bloodthirsty. He'd garnered Father's love and power, and he used that love and power to ravage the Digital World. In truth, when I realized wrath was his intention, I realized it was also my own. I wanted to ravage the Digital World, too, because it didn't love me as it'd loved him, because I wasn't the prodigy, because I wasn't good enough.

"Again, I didn't envy him. I pitied him, because he was weak. I just wanted to hurt everything and everyone who had seen him do everything he did and hadn't done what I did before me. I realized both digimon and humans are a disgusting plague, one that lets weaklings reign over the privileged. So, as I stood above my brother, I told him, Ken, I said, 'You'll deliver his wrath, huh? Wrath, I like that, it sounds powerful'. In the end, I killed my brother, and he was reborn into that digimon right there."

He nodded backwards toward Patamon, who doubled-over and screamed something unintelligible that Demon didn't even try to decipher. He instead released Ken's neck, instead jolting him into Takeru and knocking both boys into the ocean floor. His voice a low rumble like thunder, he turned to raise his clawed hand toward the sky, eyes wide and red and blaring into the gray nothingness that surrounded them.

He chuckled.

A deep, cracking chuckle.

"Wrath," he said. "Wrath is my sin. I do not conquer, I just destroy. And GranDracmon was the digimon who gave my brother such power and fame in my world, and so, I will kill him, just as I killed my brother, just as I may someday kill him again. Now give me the Dark Spore before you know wrath, as well."

"You... killed your brother...?" Ken whispered, fists clenching into white-knuckled balls. Takeru was speechless, still mulling over all the other information he'd gained in less than five minutes. Just the knowledge that Lilithmon was, in fact, Gatomon, and that Hikari was now with GranDracmon was enough knowledge to keep him depressed for weeks, much less that his adorable partner was the brother of none other than Demon.

Patamon didn't seem all that surprised. Certainly a bit shocked, of course, but not completely astounded, and definitely not angry or frightened by the thought. In fact, he stepped forward, staring into the red eyes of the creature standing before him.

"You killed me, because I was trying to conquer the world," Patamon said. Somehow, it was both a question and a statement.

"I killed you during your attempt, not because," Demon hissed. "Don't slap a friendship label on me, I'm no longer your brother and my sense of justice is much different than your own. I killed you because people let you walk over them and I saw you as undeserving of that, because I was stronger than you as a champion, and I was tired of living beings. It doesn't matter anymore."

"It does, and we're still blood – our hearts are still connected," Patamon said. "Yes, we've both done bad things, Demon, but it doesn't have to end there. If I was able to start over... you can, too."

"I don't want to start over," Demon replied, turning toward Ken, who paled. "I like wrath. I like hurting people. I like my Nightmare Soldiers and I like being on a tight schedule. I also like meeting deadlines. Now, this is the last time I'll say it. Give me the Dark Spore and you can go free. Deny me again and I will kill you, then take it anyway. For good measure, I'll also make sure you die slowly, so you can watch me torture both Takeru and my, heh-heh, 'ex'-brother."

"Don't, Ken—" Takeru softly whispered, voice breaking mid-word, his fingertips combing through the sand. Patamon curled against his thigh, hooves seeped in the sand, as he tried to block out the voices. He didn't want to hear it anymore, he didn't want to hear anything anymore, at least not from Demon.

Demon knew they believed him and everything he said, they were eating it up. It was odd, because he wasn't what they considered a "good" guy, they considered him this hugely evil, creepy force sent to kill them. That just begged the question, why would they trust him?

He had the feeling that they knew he was telling the truth, but they'd deny it, because the truth was not only not what they wanted, but not even what they expected. And because of it, they knew, deep down, it was true. Sadly, agonizingly, painfully true.

"I... I can't..." Ken said, reaching up to brush his chest. "I don't even know how to get it out, and even if I did, you'd still use it to destroy our dimension. I can't let you do it. You can take my life, but I won't let you use it. I'll destroy it along with my body!"

They might have believed it.

But they also knew the deceptive forces of darkness, because they had seen it many times in the past.

And Demon was no different.

"Ah, that's too bad," Demon said, eyes falling half-lidded. "I'll have to buy Lilithmon some lilacs, now. Maybe a bouquet of red roses, with an apology attached. I'll give her some wine, or hard liquor. Whatever it'll take for her to forgive me."

"Demon..." Patamon whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

Demon's shadow fell on the three Chosen, his arm raised and ready to strike, aiming for Ken's abdomen. He wouldn't let his past stop him now. Now that they knew everything, he imagined it would be particularly easy to destroy them, because he wouldn't have to worry about that foolish thing mortals called "closure". Now he'd tied up the loose ends, and it was time to gain his vengeance.

He marched toward Ken. Patamon jumped in front of the human boy, eyes fierce, determined not to let Demon harm Ken, as if it was his responsibility to protect not only his partner, but any human from his own brother. Demon wanted to believe that such a sacrifice wouldn't stop him.

He kept moving, closer and closer.

"Don't come any closer, brother," Patamon said, readily accepting his possible fate. "Or you'll be right, you'll kill me a second time. But I'm not afraid. Not anymore. I've already died once for a human I love, I'm not afraid to do it again!"

"Fine by me," Demon growled.

However, just as his arm was about to plunge, there was already a spray of blood.

Loud, archaic sounds of gasping.

Demon's arm stopped midair, paused, claws tinkering in the gray sunlight.

His eyes narrowed, as Takeru and Patamon gasped.

"Well, speak of the devil," Demon amusedly grunted, tilting his head to the side as his lips curled into a nefarious grin.

Standing behind Ken was none other than Lilithmon herself, her decayed, acidic arm launched into the back of Ken's neck. Ken was arched backwards, his eyes wide open, red veins webbing across his whites and extending even inwards of his irises. Her face was white as snow, expressionless, as red flecked her once-angelic figure.

"KEN!" Takeru screamed, rushing forward to tear him from Lilithmon's gasp. However, Patamon was completely immobilized by her actions, unable to move, to think, to realize. It was if he'd seen everything but hadn't yet processed that this was once his friend, his comrade, his precious one.

Demon pulled back his arm and folded only one arm across his chest, choosing to lean his elbow against it so that he could tilt his chin against his knuckles. Interest flickering in the depths of his Snow-White-Apple red eyes, he watched Lilithmon turn to Takeru and Patamon, her eyes briefly widening, recognition filtering across them like static across a television, before that same recognition dulled and muted back into the soullessness that was there before it.

"I warned them," Demon said, tapping his claw against the side of his own face. "But you know Destined, they just feel compelled to do the 'right' thing, whatever the hell 'right' is in a world of gray. I find it ironic, don't you? They try to separate things into black and white when everything here in neither, not the colors and definitely not the situations. They know who you are, by the way. I told them. Don't worry, though, I'll make it up to you."

"You told them?" Lilithmon snarled, her fingernails digging deeper into Ken's neck. Ken hissed in pain, but neither of the Demon Lords seemed to notice. Takeru was frozen between lunging forward to save his friend or staying back to assure she didn't rip his neck off. "What is your problem, Demon? You are such a—"

"It's not my problem, that's your problem, remember?" he tittered. "Of course I wouldn't worry about telling them. All you asked me to do was spare their lives! Oh, Lilithmon, don't you trust me anymore?"

"I never trusted you, you swotty little asspod," she hissed, strands of silky black hair winding in front of her face. Demon answered her with another throaty chuckle, but she merely sighed irritably and turned to Ken, who was quite visibly unable to move. Still breathing, but shallowly. She watched him for a while, examining his face, his clothes, his hair. She took in his scent as if to remember home, then closed her eyes and wrenched her hand from his neck. From it, she pulled a black sphere, which illuminated a black aura from between her fingerpricks. Without looking twice at the sphere, she turned to watch Ken as the boy fell face-first into the water, body motionless and unconscious, before she nodded at Takeru. "He'll live for now. Just get him the hell out of here."

Takeru watched her for a few seconds without a reply, without a single movement. Frustration flashing across her eyes, she then pointed nearby toward a portal summoned by Demon himself and roared, "HURRY UP!"

Takeru jumped and nodded, gripping Ken by the shoulders and pulling the human to his feet. However, before he could walk through the portal, he threw one last glance toward Lilithmon, who watched him go very cautiously.

"Gatomon..." he whispered. She didn't respond. Instead, she nodded, and, looking deep into the fierceness of her gaze, he knowingly nodded back. It took him two seconds to look from her to Patamon, still lying on the ocean floor watching Lilithmon, before he leapt into the vortex back to Earth. She followed his faded gaze to the rookie digimon and strode toward him, gracefully crouching beside the stiff digimon as he watched her.

"Gatomon—" he began, but she brought a hand to his lips to shush him.

"Angewomon and I are safe," she told him. "I promise I'll bring back Hikari. Just tell the others that they have nothing to fear. Now get going, before the vortex closes."

Patamon, wide-eyed, nodded, gaping at her figure. They watched, neither moving, neither speaking. They glanced from each eye to each eye before he stood and stepped toward the portal. She watched his back turn from her and the way the pink glow of the DigiPort reflected against his orange and off-white coat. Demon could tell she was thinking about their many times together, and the many digimon they must've faced together. Myotismon... Piedmon... BlackWarGreymon and all the foes of times past. Easier times.

In fact, Demon theorized, he could imagine Lilithmon thinking back to the many, well, demons both had to face – not only apart, but together. Patamon died facing Devimon, and Gatomon lost her most precious person beside Hikari – Wizardmon. Both lost something neither could ever get back, and it was through that loss that they'd bonded and grown so close.

He remembered when Lilithmon first found out Demon's connection to Patamon. She'd been shocked and even angered by the news, and though at times she'd tried to bond with him as a way of maybe feeling close to Patamon in some odd way, they'd never really grown close. Oddly enough, the only ones Lilithmon ever really talked to out of the Demon Lords were Lucemon, Barbamon, and Beelzemon. The rest she either ignored or talked to sparingly, or they preferred not to speak to her. She especially avoided Leviamon, for fear of ripping him apart just for thinking about kidnapping Hikari.

Demon sighed, closing his eyes.

He only opened them to watch his brother fade into the vortex. While he admitted he could kill Patamon, there was a part of him – a part not unlike Barbamon or Ken – that was glad he didn't have to, and it was that part of him he couldn't admit. Not to Lilithmon, not to Patamon, not GranDracmon, and definitely not to himself. He could've killed Takeru and Ken easily, but it was Patamon...

Patamon whose face he hesitated to mar.

"Lilithmon," Patamon said, just as he was less than an inch from entering the vortex. She looked up, tensing, before she noticed the warm smile creasing his lips. Dimples formed, crow's feet signifying the sincerity already evident in his voice. He again nodded. "I miss you. Come home soon, okay?"

It wasn't what he said that caught her attention, Demon noticed. It was that he'd called her "Lilithmon" – recognized her as Lilithmon, and, in his own way, accepted her as Lilithmon, that Lilithmon was now a part – a deep, inseparable – connection that was a single conundrum piece in Gatomon's neverending jigsaw puzzle. And, hearing those words spill from his lips, she reached up to grab her lips, but only after he'd disappeared behind the portal.

Demon didn't move toward her. Instead, he only watched, waiting as she regained her composure and shook her head willfully, wiping at her eyes before she turned back to him. He stared at her silently, but she only sneered back.

"Shut-up," she hissed, walking past him while holding the Dark Seed. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove this Dark Seed up your ass and hand it to Lucemon through the other end. Understand?"

Demon only gave her a swaggering grin.

"Yes, ma'am."

Together, the two Demon Lords walked, forming their own vortex to the home of the other Great Demon Lords, who awaited their arrival with the key to their victory. It was many years in the making, and now it was finally possible with the help of none other than Lilithmon.

.+.

It was many years ago that Demon murdered his brothers in the flaming cinders of his burning-down palace. It was the grandest palace in all of the Digital World, built by grandest digimon of all kinds, a Wisemon who sat upon the cryptic Necronomicon, each of his servants scurrying to gain the approval of the greatest of the Royal Knights, Alphamon. Alphamon also had many sons, though only two of who were of the Patamon-type, each holding potential beyond even their father's greatest imagination.

That night, when an Angemon managed to obliterate a Seraphimon, he watched the Seraphimon dissolve into fluttering butterfly data that rose to the skies in rippling splotches. He grinned, fingertips dancing with the blues and greens of Seraphimon's afterlife, his heart beating with the satisfaction that it'd been by his hand that now his brother was dead.

Angemon – who would later become Demon – was distracted by the grand vibrations that throttled beneath his feet. Tremors echoed and toppled pillars from their place, flame chinking and splintering wood and marble and stone. However, as Angemon stared deeper into the flame, he realized the splitting was only forming a door, one fiery and magnetic to the vision.

He wandered toward the flaming door, caught, almost enthralled.

He wasn't surprised when it opened to reveal a blond-haired creature quite overachieving in height and greatly muscled. Though he had never seen the figure before, Angemon knew instantly who it was.

The new figure's presence was drawing. It reminded Angemon of a moth being pulled to the light, and sometimes that light meant rest, and other times that light meant death. Angemon didn't know exactly which one GranDracmon was, but he did know that he, the angelic now-heir to Alphamon's throne, was the moth.

"Tell me, Master..." Angemon began, staring into the dark gaze of the new figure. "What is true death?"

Seraphimon's data danced around him, some entangled in his blond tassels of hair, others caught in his palm as he held it and stared into the glowing blues and teals. GranDracmon didn't respond at first, caught only watching with a wistful stare.

A second later and the dark digimon tilted his head to the side. "Death is a delivery boy. He eventually delivers to every house, or at least the ones that need mail. Sometimes his deliveries get returned, and sometimes they get accepted, and sometimes he forces acceptance. The important part is that mail, most of the time, is recycled, so it can be mailed again, but to a different residence with a different note and a different intent. Though, many times, the mail can't be recycled and re-delivered, and it decays."

"So my brother," Angemon began, "what kind of mail is he?"

GranDracmon remained silent for a while. Angemon watched the fire flicker in his black eyes, his arms firmly folded across his chest. He had a stiff disposition, like a bold father, and it was only when he turned to look up at the fading data that GranDracmon finally responded. His voice was a dark endless drawl that droned throughout the hall, as the world burned around the two of them.

Turning back to the demonic creature that thrived behind the shell of an angel, GranDracmon grinned hazily at Angemon and held up something that was taller than Angemon himself, yet it was only an arm. Its claws scraped the air, red and black, with a hard termite-like surface that shined. It didn't take long for Angemon to realize GranDracmon was holding the arm of Millenniumon.

Who knew how many times they could venture in – how many times they could turn the clock back – how many dimensions they could travel in and out of—

"Your brother..." GranDracmon dug the arm's claws into the ground at Angemon's feet.

"He's the kind that rots."