Digital War: Campaign II

Part III: Chapter XXI

[Critical Malfunction]

"It's foolhardy and reckless!" The shout that came up was not so much a criticism, but an "ah-ha!" type of realization. The Emperor had sat patiently while Isaac went on at length. "But it has just the right ring of unpredictability to it," Boreamon commented. "So the attack becomes a diversionary tactic for the real objective…"

"I hit on the idea from an old game my dad and I used to play," Isaac said, grinning. "The problem is that we need accurate intelligence to make a more detailed plan. And every communication with Millenniumon risks him being exposed."

Ebonwumon grunted once, turning the focus from the human to him. "That won't be a problem," he stated, touching a massive claw to one of the screens in the chamber. "Our surveillance systems inside the Enemy's camp are—surprisingly—still working." He turned one of his great heads to Isaac. "We managed to hack the programs of several of his drones during the Liberation War. One of them is still functioning, and he seems to be in Yggdrassil."

"Isaac is right, though," Kai interjected. "We cannot risk exposing our plans by sending a reply." The image of his mentor was still frozen upon the main screen in the chamber. It had replayed twice so that the triad and he could examine it for themselves. Millenniumon had been nervous, though he hid it well. The Chimeramon saw his mentor shift in the recording, almost imperceptibly. But it was there.

"He took a chance on us," the ultimate said, eyes fixed upon the image. "He will not know if we intend to help him or not. But when the opportunity comes, he will undoubtedly seize it. He is smart, and has a small contingent of guards that are programed to follow his orders."

Kai shook his head at a question from one of the Sovereignty. "None of them are above champion level," he answered. "He uses them primarily as laboratory assistants. Some are laborers in his castle. None of them are designed for fighting. But he will use them effectively, rest assured."

Michael grimaced at the thought. "I don't like using them," he murmured to Cotramon. "It feels wrong."

"I know," the Digimon whispered back. He had seen so many of them deleted during the war. At one point, he would have gladly wiped them all out. Even now they revolted him. They were shells, empty husks of Digimon. "There's nothing we can do for them," he told his partner. "Except put them out of their misery."

"Anshar will have to be fortified in case of a counter attack," one of the megas said from above. "Perhaps Azulongmon can see to that?" he suggested, then chuckled at his own witticism. No one else found it as amusing, and he quickly moved on. "Baihumon, then, would be the best to handle those preparations." A chorus of agreement rose from among them.

"Far be it from me to suggest this," Kai said, rousing himself from his contemplations, "but I believe the hybrid and his partners should be stationed here. I will stay as well, and help mount a defense in case of the Enemy launches a counter attack."

"Agreed," Baihumon said quickly, followed by the others.

Cotramon nodded slowly, taking stock. "We aren't ready for a full-scale war," he said. "Isaac would be nearly defenseless, and I cannot digivolve past ultimate." He looked at Michael, who shook his head. "And for all Michael's power, the Enemy would destroy him easily."

"I do notice," Baihumon observed, "that we seem to be speaking in terms of what-if." He looked directly at Michael now, his eyes cutting into the hybrid's soul. "You seem to be forgetting that, whether it is tomorrow or the next day, the Enemy will attack Anshar. This is not a what-if scenario. It is a certainty. The hybrid will inevitably have to fight in this war."

Yes, if only to survive… he thought distractedly. Baihumon was right about that. "I know," he replied. "But for right now, let me help in other ways. Isaac and I can help bring stores into the palace. Cotramon is a medic. We can still do our part." He sighed. "Just one question though: which one of you is planning on leading this little adventure?"

The fastest, obviously, was the consensus. For this, VictoryGreymon volunteered. Aside from Rosemon, he was the smallest—and fastest—of the Sovereign Council. The goal was to be in and out within an hour of the initial attack. A small contingent of the Imperial Guard would be dispatched with him to divert attention away from the real objective. A single, shadowy Digimon, would infiltrate the encampment and retrieve Millenniumon. Then the whole troupe would hightail it out of there.

Meanwhile, since Anshar Proper was almost entirely evacuated, the remaining refugees would continue their exodus at a redoubled pace. Stores would be secured inside the main palace, behind the wall, and triage would be set up in the complex itself for any wounded. The remaining Sovereignty, and Boreamon (who had refused to evacuate under any circumstances), would organize the garrison stationed there into alert status.

As a joke, Isaac suggested the thing be called "Operation Acme Rocket," which the Sovereignty had taken seriously. "I just wanted to lighten the mood a little," he told Michael, after the meeting had concluded. "I should have known none of them would get it…"

"Still," Michael offered, "it has a ring of truth to it. The whole idea is crazy." Just like the famed cartoon explosives. What truly amazed him, however, was the speed at which everything had proceeded since then. The contingent of guards was selected within an hour, they were briefed, and then Michael and Isaac watched as the palace gate shut behind them. "This whole thing could explode in our collective face," he said.

He had sent the message more than twenty-four hours ago. If the Sovereignty were going to help him, the time would be now. Preparations for the next phase of their advance had been underway since their arrival in Yggdrassil. When Millenniumon had entered the city proper, he had found it strange that there was no one left at all to defend it.

The Sovereignty was not known to be so liberal in what they considered a lost cause. Then again, a defensive war was an entirely different beast than the war of liberation they had fought the last time. Perhaps they were wise in utilizing a different strategy. They should have left devices to sabotage the Enemy's efforts, though. He would have.

As it stood, an enormous army had amassed outside the city. The Enemy had deemed the city proper off limits to anyone but himself and Apocalymon. This was not necessarily out of ego, either. They did not want a private estate. But to move an army that size in and out of the city's perimeter would take too much time. So they had ordered the construction of temporary buildings to house communications equipment, required food stores for the non-drone officers, and shelters for the drones to prevent death by exposure.

It had been raining, and the roads, trampled into oblivion by their army, had turned into a sludge-caked mess of potholes and quick-mud. But, and Millenniumon reflected as he toured the encampment, it was a definite improvement over Neflhiem. The rain fell in torrents, quenching his parched skin, and relieving him of the excess heat his body produced. He had missed this.

Presently, two of his personal assistants returned to him. One moaned in a dumb voice its report. To anyone else, it would have sounded like a gibber of zeros and ones. But he had programmed his drones to use a binary code, easily decipherable to man who had become part machine. He rattled off a series of binary in reply, eliciting a single affirmative. Good, he decided. Everything was in place now. All he needed was the opportunity.

It was early evening with a Phantomon approached him. The Digimon was no drone of his, nor was it an officer that he recognized. It looked at him dumbly for a moment, then parted it's cloak to reveal a gold starburst. "Two minutes," it said simply, then vanished into forest shadows.

He pressed a button on one of his artificial limbs and the same drone that had appeared earlier returned to him. He spit out a series of ones and zeroes to it and the mindless husk darted off as fast as its legs would carry it in the muck.

One minute, thirty seconds.

Millenniumon strode purposefully toward the city gate. By the time he had reached it, his internal countdown was to five seconds. Four. He thought he heard the rumble of thunder. Three. No, it was the roar of a Digimon. Two. The echo resounded into words: Trident Gaia! One. The resultant explosion set off alarms throughout the city and the encampment. He began shouting orders.

A half second later, a second series of explosions resounded from the great tree and the roots that made up the wall. Then the lights went out, leaving only scattered fires to break the monochromatic evening murk. Apocalymon was an adept military leader, but even he had his limitations. He would be hard pressed to restore order, even among drones.

Then the Phantomon appeared again.

"The time has come?" Millenniumon questioned him.

"Yes," he said. "VictoryGreymon has led the attack, but it will not last long. Your window of opportunity grows smaller by the second." He turned, and gestured with one hand to follow him. "Follow me," he said, before darting off.

Millenniumon did not have time to question the Digimon further, nor would he have had if given a chance. He had no doubt that Apocalymon and his Master already knew what was going on, and were seconds away from intervening. That would be the cue for raiding party to take leave. He moved quickly as he could, and silently relative to his size.

A few seconds later, the brilliant rising from the city wall confirmed his suspicion. The echoed explosion left a gaping hole in the tightly knotted roots of the city-tree, and had dazzled even Millenniumon's cyber-enhanced vision. He stumbled once, but managed to regain his footing and continue following his ghost-like guide.

"Total Annihilation!" The attack reverberated again, lighting up the surrounding forest, and Millenniumon could see his colossal form silhouetted in the fires. They had spotted him! But he had nearly reached the raiding party. VictoryGreymon reflected the firelight with his armor like a beacon, and he swung his sword, decapitating an officer.

"Fall back!" he shouted. "To the Gate!" A small band of fighters disengaged from combat, fleeing from the approaching terror. "You!" he shouted to a golden colored insect Digimon. "Guard Miillenniumon's flank!"

"Aye, sir!" it shouted, falling back toward the fleeing cyborg. Millenniumon hurried himself forward as fast as he could, but Apocalymon was gaining on him. The mutant Digimon had an immense reach with his claws, and the escaping defector could feel them bearing down on him.

"Darkness Zone!" Millenniumon heard the steel claw clamp shut just behind him, and a a gurgled cry of pain was suddenly cut off mid syllable. Another claw shut violently just behind him, tearing trees from their roots and tossing them aside. "I will have your head, traitor!" came the ravenous cry. "Darkness Zone!"

A sudden streak of yellow-gold dashed by him, and he heard the scrape of metal against metal. Then a shout, "Dramon Breaker!" and a rush of hot air whooshed past his face. A cloudless, dusky sky greeted him, star speckled and warm. VictoryGreymon appeared beside him, breathing heavily, his sword torn into a twisted heap of slag.

"He's not pursuing… yet," the mega said. "I hope your information is worth the price we paid to get it. Three of my best Digimon were killed in that raid." Millenniumon nodded, taken aback by the tone of his rescuer. It had been ages since anyone had spoken to him like that. "Come, then. We must get you to the Emperor."

"Make yourself ready," he ordered. The Black Diamond inspected the damage by firelight. The whole thing had lasted less than five minutes. But the damage, he admitted, was extensive. He had known Millenniumon would betray him, just not when. And now he had his answer. The chaos had caught him off guard, leaving the traitor with the perfect opportunity.

He clenched his fists and growled under his breath. It was a breach of security, and moreover it was a personal embarrassment. The Sovereignty had known! The traitor had smuggled out a message somehow—probably embedded in the signal they had used to monitor their communications network. And worse, he had destroyed their ability to do even that.

"We will initiate phase three now," he told Apocalymon. "But first, let the traitor deliver his message. I want them to know that I'm coming. Then launch your attack." He turned his black eyes toward the enormous general. "My loyal servant…" A thin smile spread across his face. "You will have the honor of punishing the traitor."

A single claw snapped open and shut. "All of their leadership is gathered in one place, Master. Shall I dispose of them as well?" No one was a match for him, save his Master. During the rebellion, he had fended off attacks by numerous mega-level Digimon on multiple occasions. Only EmeraldGreymon had ever come close to defeating him.

His thin face contorted into an eager grin. This would give him the opportunity to take his revenge on that particular enemy. He had not only maintained his skills in the intervening years, but had honed them even further. At first he had fought the other generals. Tank had challenged him at the start of their exile. Then later, the three that had invaded Earth had tested their prowess against him. Of those, Darkdramon had been his most skillful opponent.

However, after a while they failed to even make him break a sweat. In the end, only one person could satisfy his tastes: an opponent he could never defeat. His sparring partner was no less than the Black Diamond himself. And, in spite of his great ability, Apocalymon knew without doubt that his Master only toyed with him during their matches.

The Black Diamond was the perfect teacher: brutal, practical, and patient. He exercised perfect control on every occasion. In time, Apocalymon had mastered such control. Only on rare occasions, like now, did he allow his bloodlust to show. He clapped his claw shut again, waiting for his Master's reply.

"Yes, Master."

Michael was not present when Millenniumon entered the palace complex. He and Isaac were still helping stockpile supplies in the courtyard opposite the main entrance. Nearby, some of the Sovereignty lent their hands, paws, or claws to the effort. Baihumon was especially busy, dragging heavy pallets to and fro.

The others present kept themselves busy as well. No one but Azulongmon stood idle. The dragon mega hovered above them, watching, running scenarios through his mind, it looked like. Michael tried to avert his gaze and focus on the task at hand. But every once in a while, he could feel the antagonistic presence watching him. Chills ran down his spine.

A shove from Isaac rocked him back to reality, and he saw a guard standing there waiting patiently for him. Azulongmon had disappeared from above them. He apologized and the guard asked them to follow him. They were requested in the war room.

"I don't know how I feel about this," he told Isaac on the way. The look Azulongmon had given him was clearly hostile. It was as if the Digimon blamed him for all of this. "He hasn't liked us from the beginning, and I'm wondering just how deep it goes."

Isaac gave him a resigned shrug. "I saw him too," the human replied. "I don't know how he can still blame you after all the good you've done." Michael was right, though. Azulongmon hated them almost as much as the Enemy. "Right now, at least, he's our ally. We have a common goal, and the Emperor's support."

"I know." But that look…

"Hey!" Cotramon called, jogging up to them. "Did you see him yet? Is he here?" He need not have asked. He recognized the insecurity of his partner. "Don't worry. Even if he does try something, he won't get far. There are eight megas in that room with him—not including you."

"That isn't what I'm worried about…" Michael answered.

"Then what?"

"I'm more worried about him," he said, looking. Azulongmon had just rounded the corner ahead of them. His serpentine form seemed more rigid than normal. The Digimon typically floated from place to place in, graceful, fluid motions, in spite of his temperament. Now, any observer could see he was plainly agitated.

The immense room seemed even more crowded than before when they entered. If Michael had thought the auras coming off the Sovereignty were strong, he was absolutely blown away by the power he sensed in Millenniumon. He was not much larger than Kai, and stood out from the rest of the group.

He was quiet, and moved very little. He kept all four of his arms folded, and only his mouth moved when he spoke. But his acid-yellow eyes sparked wildly, giving him a sort of animation that haunted people. Michael thought he reminded him of a painting, following him with eyes that did not necessarily move.

His most striking feature, after the eyes, was the enormous pair of cannons mounted on his back. Wires snaked in and out of his flesh, and the whole cybernetic system filled the room with the low hum of a great machine.

Isaac pulled out his digivice, and within a moment had the holographic image pulled up for their inspection. The image was different though. It lacked the cannons and the implants, and his eyes were a deeper amber than what stood in front of them. "That's him, though," Isaac murmured, still hanging in the doorway with Michael. "Mega, virus. His attacks are Destiny Destroyer and Time Unlimited."

It was at that very moment that Millenniumon's gaze settled on them. Michael's heart skipped a beat, and he felt the floor drop out from under him. It was a grave look, full of unspoken fears and concerns. But it was also filled with great hope. And that was what unsettled Michael the most. Here, a creature as powerful as all the Sovereignty combined, looked to him for that hope.

A second later, though, the look passed and he brought his stare upward. The monster's jaw fell agape, and his arms fell limp at his side. "Chimera…mon… You're here?" Sure enough, the mutant ultimate stood behind them. And as Michael took stock of the giant, he found that his friend's normally well-hidden emotions now bubbled over.

Kai beamed with delight and wonderment at the sight of his long lost friend. "You made it…" he said, then taking care not to step on the trio still in front of him, moved forward. The two became a mess of limbs as they embraced. "I told you that I would find a way!"

"I didn't expect to see you…" Millenniumon confessed as they disentangled themselves. "I thought they might have executed you…" The dark mega took a moment to inspect his protégé and, for the first time in ages, smiled. "How did you end up with the Sovereignty?" he asked in amazement.

Kai turned pointed with one arm toward Michael and his partners. "I fell in with the hybrid outside Yggdrassil. I've been tutoring them in the art of dueling." The ultimate waved them over, grinning like Michael had never seen him before. "Let me introduce you…"

"There's no need," said the cyborg. He knelt down to Michael's level, much like Kai had at their first meeting, and his face was a welcome change from Azulongmon's seething visage. "I have followed your progress with great interest. If it were not for you, I could never have escaped. Thank you."

Michael gulped. "You're—uh—welcome," he stammered. The monster was not at all what he had expected. He glanced to his left and found Cotramon hanging back, unwilling to approach the mega. Isaac, however, was right there beside him. As always, the human was eager to satisfy his curiosity. So Michael introduced him.

"I suppose you're his Tamer, then?" the beastly Digimon asked.

Isaac cocked an eyebrow. "Tamer?" he asked, unsure. In all their dealings with the Digimon, no one had ever called him that. "Why do you call me a Tamer?" Behind him, Cotramon growled under his breath.

"Forgive me," Millenniumon grunted at once. "I believe the correct word is Partner." He glanced once at the little green reptile. "Tamer is a—derogatory—term for human partners. As though they had tamed a wild beast. It was a poor choice of words…" He stood back to his full height, and Isaac gasped as the Digimon's shadow fell over him.

"Enough of this," Azulongmon boomed suddenly. A dozen conversations stopped all at once, and everyone's eyes were on him. "We're expecting a counterattack any minute, and you're explaining philology to the human?" he sneered. "We don't have the time to listen to you babble on and exchange pleasantries with the mutant. Whatever you have to say, say it."

The dragon's eyes flashed with anger and a small arc of electricity jumped between two of his clawed fingers. Boreamon was quick to jump in and take control of the conversation before his subordinate became anymore irritated. "Unfortunately, he's right," the Emperor said. "We must have the information you promised."

Millenniumon nodded solemnly, and took a position by the screens monitoring the Enemy's encampment. The fires had died away, and they had restored power to the city, though Yggdrassil's wall was in ruins. Drones worked to clean up the debris left behind.

"You cannot win this war," he announced. A collective shout rose up from the assembly and then died away as Millenniumon held up two of his limbs to quiet them. "The Black Diamond has near limitless power. Only a Digimon of his bloodline, and at the same level, could possibly hope to beat him." He made a point to look directly at Michael, who gulped again, and stepped back. "But since such a Digimon does not exist," he continued, "you have no chance of winning. You're only hope is to evacuate entirely, and seal the Gates behind you."

The assembly immediately began to shout over each other, each of them struggling to be heard. Eventually it was a great roar from Baihumon that silenced them, and he continued in a more reasonable fashion. "You mean to tell us that we should sacrifice half of the Digital World and hope he doesn't break through?"

The others chorused an agreement, and the Emperor spoke after the noise died down. "I can't believe that we have no alternative to that. What about our combined powers? With you," and he gestured to Millenniumon, "we may stand a chance of defeating him once and for all. We could at least subdue him. Imprison him again."

"Even if that were possible," the cyborg replied, "it would only delay the inevitable. And I don't believe we have power enough to even subdue him." He sighed, and folded his arms. "That is beside the point, however. You misunderstand my meaning. The only way to win is to survive. To do that, you must sacrifice the entire Digital World."

"You mean they should come to Earth!" Isaac gasped, drawing a startled grunt from group, who had forgotten he was there.

"Yes. Seal the gates behind you." Millenniumon pulled up a diagram of the Gates on one of the screens. "Destroy them entirely. The remaining generals on Earth draw their power from the Black Diamond. If you cut off their connection, they will not have the power to fight, and neither will their armies."

"Ridiculous," Azulongmon scoffed. "We should have known you were to us. We should have left you to rot and die with the Enemy! We can't give in to his advance. We would be sentencing millions of our citizens to death for no reason at all!"

"Sacrificing millions to save billions!" Millenniumon shouted back. "You have the chance to save the lives of everyone on Earth. The humans, and the Digimon!" He shut off the screens entirely, leaving everyone's attention on him. "I know!" he roared. "I developed these systems. I watched them become stronger and stronger.

"The only reason he has not attacked yet is to give you time gather. He wants you to think you have a chance. Then he will wipe you all out, and nothing will stand between him and domination of both worlds."

The conclave sat in silence. Millenniumon stood there, his yellow eyes narrowed at them. Finally he sighed. "We don't have time enough to accomplish even that," he said at length. He tapped at his neck, pointing to the collar there. "You see? He tries to summon me." Then he winced as the machine tried to electrocute him. "He's coming now."

Fin