A/N: Fic is now fully written so weekly updates are back now.
They are on wet sand, wet and grey and cold. He hadn't noticed the last time he was here but there he was. They're all there. Even Daisuke, who had been so far back, observing, only moments before, is now there, and not looking happy about it either.
The Digimon who had been so hostile, are now howling to the heavens, their pain ricocheting off of the sand. None of them are as loud as Lucemon, whose desperate wails are accompanied by bursts of red light. Takeru is close enough to see the Dark Spiral around his neck. He shrinks from a man to a little boy with tattered wings. What could have been a toga is streaked red. He raises his head and stares at Takeru with those too-same blue eyes. The plea was there, unmistakable, as visible as the reddish-black spiral on his throat.
Ken, very suddenly laughs. His Digivice emits a dark energy. It is most certainly nothing warm and bright. In fact, the skin-crawl sensation is very familiar. Millenniummon is jubilant.
"Lucemon," he whispers, as the angel writhes, the Evil Spiral so vivid on his pale skin. "I have found your purpose." He presses a button on Ken's black Digivice and the air wails with pain. "Evolve, evolve into the true mmonster I know you can become."
Lucemon screams and screams rage and laughter until it becomes an endless shriek of battle rage.
"Chimaeramon."