I'm so happy that I finally got another chapter done. I've had next to no time to type at all, and I can really tell that I've been holding it back lately because I got this thing done really quickly once I finally got the opportunity to work on it. Once again, sorry for the huge length of time between updates, I'm hoping that that won't happen as often when school is out and summer finally starts :D

Nevertheless, please enjoy reading this!


Chapter 26: Slept So Long

My muscles burned as I raced through the dense foliage, leaping over felled trees and fighting my way through thorn bushes, ignoring any pain that came to me because of them. None of that mattered. None of it had ever really mattered. The only thing that meant anything to me right now was saving Vigomon. Saving my brother.

Just mentioning Daijiro drove me to sprint even faster, force my Beast's body to strive ever harder to reach him. I had to get there fast. I had to find him before Raveamon did. She probably was being guided to him by Cherubimon's all-seeing eye while I only had Obstimon's 'directions' to go by. And a single point in the general idea of where I should search couldn't be considered directions at all, really.

But my unparalleled senses as Wereraiomon would have to do, and had already led me to discover Vigomon's trail. His scent wasn't the same as I'd remembered it; it seemed more…human. The very thought frightened me to the point of collapse. How could I possibly have been so deluded, so single-minded to have not seen this? How could I have missed it before?

You can beat yourself up about this later. There's no time to spare right now. Knowing my harsh inner voice was right, I threw my self-loathing thoughts away and surged onwards, focusing only on Vigomon's scent and how I would find the Digimon/human at the end of it. However, I knew that I wasn't the only one searching for said being. My once best friend had him on her mind as well, but for a very different reason.

No matter how hard I tried, Raveamon's memory wouldn't stay out of my mind. Her presence within me hadn't faded entirely when we'd been separated spiritually, and even now, being physically apart, she still held fast to my mind. But she always had. And she always would, as long as I was alive, that is. If I were to die, she might leave me alone. I might stop suffering at her hand.

On the other hand, knowing how she was, she would probably follow me all the way to hell.

At one point, she'd been my only friend. I'd thought my family was turning against me, the whole world on a mission to destroy me and make me the bad guy. Now, I knew that I had been the bad one all along. Raveamon's words of comfort and consolation had been faked; she'd been attempting to manipulate me the entire time. Had she ever truly cared for me? I wasn't sure, but I hoped to heaven that she had.

It was doubtful, I knew it, but it was possible. Maybe her heart hadn't always been this black, this filled with hate and malice and ice. The very possibility made my soul soar with hope; however, it was immediately brought back down to sorrow when reminded of what was going on currently in the thing most people like to call 'reality'.

The moment when I'd have to kill my friend was arriving. I could feel it in the air, sense it in the way the breeze ruffled my fur as if it was trying to tell me that everything was going to be okay in the end. 'And they lived happily ever after' would be the end to my story, the ground I treaded over tried to convince me. I knew better. I could never live 'happily ever after'. I just hadn't been made to be able to do that.

Apparently, Raveamon hadn't been made that way either.

My maddeningly depressing thoughts were interrupted when I noticed a small clearing up ahead. It was not your average empty space in the forest, though. There were little flickering lights dimly shining out, the sight making me both intoxicated and anxious to get away. They were such pretty little things…so delicate, like tiny violet flowers by a raging, foaming river.

Slowing to a low, crouching-crawl, I continued to approach the strange lights. My body ached at the position I had to take in order to remain mostly hidden, but I ignored the pain in favor of not being discovered. Right now, it was probably best that I avoid any fighting that wasn't completely necessary. I had to save my strength for anything Vigomon might try, and, eventually, for Raveamon herself.

I came to a clump of thorny bushes right on the outside ring of the clearing, and decided that this was going to be the best—if not, then the only—spot that I would be able to see but not be seen. Peering through the pointy thorns and sharp leaves, I stared hard into the treeless space, expecting the unexpected as I'd been trained to. But even the stoniest warrior would've been astonished at such a strange sight.

The dim, flickering lights were from seven candles arranged together in a medium-sized circle. But the oddest thing was that the candles were floating maybe two to three inches off the ground. Having been in the Digital World for as long as I had been and having seen all kinds of oddities, you'd think that nothing would surprise me anymore. But this…it was incredible.

Vigomon was sitting in the center of the circle of light, his eyes closed as if he were asleep. He did appear to be completely and utterly exhausted, his shoulders slouched and his head hanging limply. It was such a sad sight to me. I'd seen this evil Sentinel when he had been in his 'prime', when he was still lively in his malevolent ways and had never doubted anything that Cherubimon had said.

But something had eaten away at him over time. And that something now had Raveamon's undying attention.

Mustering up all my courage, I stepped over the foliage acting as my hideout and started towards Vigomon's circle of sanctity. Judging by the fact that he hadn't moved nor shown any sign that he knew I was there, I assumed that he was not yet aware of me. Or just didn't care enough to put up any kind of fight. Obstimon had said that he'd begun to lose his will to fight. Let alone his mind.

I was wrong. The darkly armored Digimon leapt to his feet, twirling around to face me with a kind of rage that I'd never seen before in anyone, human or non. "This is a sacred place, and you will not defile it!" He let out an almost animalistic growl as he swung his sword at me, the reverberations of the metal slicing through the air so strong that they traveled through the air at a supersonic speed. The seemingly simple attack tore up vegetation and decimated rocks; it was incredible.

And headed straight for me. It came so fast that I had no time to react at all, the blast striking me hard and fast like a runaway train headed for a black, lightless, sordid tunnel. The air-blade cut through me like a scissors to paper, ripping at my DNA/data and drawing a hoarse cry from my lungs. Despite the pain, I realized that I was wondering how strong Vigomon truly was to be able to do this kind of damage without even laying a single finger on me.

It's like he's as powerful as Raveamon is.

Before I knew what was happening to me, I was blinded by different shades of bright blue light all around me. When it faded away, exhaustion dragged me to the ground, falling upon it face-first. I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and sleep, curl up in on myself to keep warm since it was always so cold in the Dark Continent without Wereraiomon's body heat—

My mind shocked itself awake in an instant. Propelling myself upwards with my arms, I stood on my knees, eyes drawn immediately to stare with horror at my hands. Hands, not paws, not fur, not claws. Human hands. The Beast of the Moon's body had taken a lot of damage, I knew, but it had been easy enough to keep in its form. But that one offensive move on Vigomon's part had been enough to push the bestial flesh over the edge, and now…

I had no Spirit. No way to fight. No way to defend Vigomon, my Sentinel-brother.

Raveamon was on her way, and closing in fast; I could smell death and malice in the air as she approached, hear her laughter in the wind as it played absentmindedly in the trees, completely unaware of the danger coming ever closer. And Vigomon was in the same boat when it came to that, being utterly oblivious to the fact that his life was at stake, possibly being ended at any moment. What made it even worse was his lack of a want to fight, his uncaring nature when it came to living. He just didn't care anymore.

Panic tried tirelessly to wrap its cold, clammy hands around my heart, drive my mind into the frenzy that it so often fell captive to. But I refused to give it a foothold in my soul—not even a toehold was permissible. I'd sworn to Obstimon, Sentinel of Justice, of all that was right, that I would risk life, limb, and soul to keep his friend—his son—safe from the subeta known as one of my only childhood friends. But now…the battle about to take place felt…different from all the others.

It should, Toshiku. You know why? It's because you know that this is going to be your last fight. I knew my mental voice could be a kuso-atama, but that was going a bit far, even for it. However, the tiny voice continued, and I did nothing to stop it. Have you noticed how all the other Sentinels died horrifically, often at the hand of someone they knew and loved? Think about it for a minute, and tell me something: Why shouldn't this be your last stand?

Everything matches—defending your morally unstable little brother, trying to sort out your own chikushou morals, readying yourself to fight someone who hurt your only friends and threatens the only world that you can actually fit into. Tell me, with all honesty, how this is any different from how all of the other Sentinels died. My thoughts were unexpectedly cold and heartless, but they struck a chord buried deep within me, a string that almost nothing could reach. Nothing but fate's promises could stretch so far as to touch my soul in that way.

What if my ponderings were correct and the fight that was drawing ever nearer to the light of reality would be my final stand against the darkness that had plagued me so? Would I not be able to best my own Human Spirit—granted I even stood a chance without anything to evolve to, which was so far-fetched not even Lassie would be able to retrieve it. Or would I somehow defeat her, only to be consumed by darkness and sorrow and end up defeating myself?

"You can come over now. You are not disrespecting your Ancients anymore," Vigomon's baritone voice sounded in an almost gentle manner, bringing me back to the present and away from the horrid thoughts nesting and brooding within me. It didn't get rid of them, only pulled me away for the time being. His dark eyes refused to look at me, the soul-windows fixated on the levitating candles around him. "It's okay. They forgive you."

I stared silently at him, watching curiously to see if he was lying and planned to come and attack me again as soon as I started moving forward. But he showed no sign of violence; he had sat back down in the center of the circle of faint light, his back facing me. It was clear to me that he didn't feel threatened by me, especially when I didn't have anything to fight him with besides a small rock or maybe a stick. I wouldn't have been very afraid of me either with those circumstances.

Hoping that the once vicious demon would keep true to his word about everything being all right between us for the moment, I hesitantly neared the circle of floating candles. A groan of discomfort and hurt escaped my throat as I sat down, every muscle, every bone, every fiber in my body either bruised, cut, or sore from my constant roaming and fighting. The last time I could recall resting was at the river that I was now so far away from, the river where Sentimon had come to me.

From where I sat, I was about a yard away from one of the candles, and I watched it with heightening curiosity. It flickered brightly, wildly, lively, even though the wind blew and leaves sometimes fell upon the flame. It stood strong despite everything, never bending to the will of the elements around it, nor those who tried to huff and puff it out. The flame continued to breathe, continued to eat away at the wick.

But then, as I was staring at it, it went out as if someone had flipped a switch.

A gasp caught in my throat at the surprise; what had blown it out? No wind had rushed through with enough power to cut off its light that quickly, and nothing had come anywhere near it! And I hadn't even moved for the past couple of minutes I'd been so fixated on it. I was about to voice my excitement/frustration to Vigomon, but stopped when I glanced up and saw that he'd turned around and was now facing me, watching me with dark, soulless eyes. Sad eyes.

I was about to switch my question from being about the candle to how he'd switched positions without my noticing, but the dark Sentinel of Life cut me off and chastely spoke, as if he'd read my mind from beginning to end, "You're blind; you've always been—" Thanks, Vigomon. Thanks a bunch. That's exactly what I want to hear at a time like this. Especially since I've heard that a time or two before. "—nevertheless, these are…I suppose you could call them 'devices' that another Sentinel of Life made. He called them Candle Lives because their light resembles the progression of someone's life.

"The one that just went out? That was Obstimon's. And this one over here," He turned away from me, the change in position also changing the pictures that the shadows made on his armor. Drawing my eyes away from the dark images dancing before me, my gaze followed Vigomon's to a second candle that no longer glowed valiantly. "This one is Sentimon's. I was starting to wonder when Raveamon would get to them, but I never expected it to make me feel this way…"

Tears came to my eyes at his words; did this mean what I thought it did? Although I feared the answer to my next inquiry, I knew that I would have to bring it up sometime, and I didn't want it to haunt my mind any longer than what was necessary. "So…what you're saying by…'progression'…is that when the light goes out, they're…gone?" I couldn't bring myself to say the word that was coursing through my veins, bashing around in my brain like a wild boar that had been shot by an arrow and was slowly bleeding to death.

That was the word. Death. Not living. Not breathing. Not anything.

Dead.

I didn't want to see Vigomon nod his head, I didn't want to see him shake his head. I didn't want to see anything. I almost didn't want to know if what I was thinking—what I couldn't get out of my head—was correct. Almost. Vigomon looked away from me, hiding his face from me as he bobbed his head in a nearly unnoticeable fashion. But I saw it, and wished that I hadn't. He said nothing to me, not one word. He didn't have to.

Curling my hands into fists and gritting my teeth, I snarled out a cry of internal pain as I bowed my head. I closed my eyes tightly, so tightly that it stung and little spots of color formed in my vision, because I wanted this to be some kind of joke. A cruel joke that Vigomon was playing on me for no reason other than the fact that he could and thought that it would be funny to see me in such turmoil.

But he wasn't laughing. Vigomon was just as distraught over the loss of the two other Sentinels—my parents—as I was. He appeared to be facing it the same way, too: By trying to convince himself that this hadn't happened, that they only two people that he'd ever found himself able to trust in this Kamisama-forsaken world were gone. Out of his life forever. Out of both of our lives forever. Well, all of them except for what still existed in our memories.

I felt an electric shock ripple through me as I recalled Obstimon's urgent warning regarding Vigomon's safety. Pain racked my heart at the fact that I'd forgotten for even a moment; I was the only hope that my Sentinel-brother had left, I was the only one left in this world who was willing to protect him against those who misunderstood him. Those who thought he was losing his mind. I had to remember that with Obstimon and Sentimon gone, I was all that Vigomon had left.

That was why he refused to fight me. He needed me.

Such thoughts rushed around in my mind, drilling power, hope, and courage into every cell in my body until I thought I might explode. Was this how every other Sentinel felt before they were about to take part in something, a battle for the greater good, that might end up taking their life away? It made me feel like something that I'd never thought I'd be able to refer to myself again as: A good guy.

"Vigomon, we have to get out of here. Now. Raveamon has orders to come and kill you, and Obstimon's last wish was that I do whatever I can to keep her from getting to you. Without my Spirits, I can't do a lot, but I can still give you enough time to get away," Rising from the ground, I held my shoulders squarely, by back straight and warrior-like despite how much pain it caused me to stand in such a formal, righteous manner. "I'll do whatever I can to stall her, but I can't keep her at bay forever. You should hurry and get out of here before she comes." I expected the Sentinel in the circle to turn, stare at me for a moment, then get to his feet and do as I said. Maybe give a word of thanks regarding the warning.

But he did nothing. The mentally-scrambled Sentinel remained motionless in the candlelight, though he did turn his head halfway to face me, his eyes swiveling to bore into me like knives, screwdrivers. We stared at one another for a long time, time that he could've been using to get the hell out of here and save his skin instead of risking it out of utter stubbornness. Was he doing this because he didn't believe me? Did he not want me to sacrifice myself for him to flee in such a seemingly cowardly manner?

I didn't care about his pride, though. I cared about his life, and the life of the little boy that was harbored within him. "Go!" I shouted as loud as I dared, knowing that Raveamon might hear from the distance and learn of our exact location. Slashing my arm out in front of me, I jabbed it towards the wilderness, hoping that the gesture might convince him further of how serious I was. "I don't care what happens to me! I promised Obstimon that I would save you, and I'll—stop staring at that flame and look at me!"

As I was speaking, Vigomon's blank eyes had dropped from me and had returned to staring at one of the five still-shining candles. He looked at it with such a tender gaze, the little thing appearing poor and malnourished compared to the flames at its sides. It was an intoxicating sight. But I knew that the flickering, about-to-go-out show wasn't good. "…Is that one…your Candle Life?" I inquired tentatively, knowing that he could recognize whose candle was whose despite the fact that I saw no marking indicating any name or Digital symbol.

"…No…" A soft, hushed whisper that I could barely hear over the tiny breeze ruffling my matted and knotted hair over my ears dripped from his lips like tears. The tears that I now saw pooling at the corners of his eyes. I'd never seen a Digimon as strong as this one cry before, and it made me more nervous than I'd ever been in my entire life. Mukademon, the horrid Beast Spirit of my mother's, was nothing compared to the tears that this incredible Digimon was holding back.

I gulped hard, a large, dry lump forming in my throat; it was like I'd swallowed a cup of wet sand and just couldn't get it to go down. It wasn't choking me, but I prayed to anyone who would listen to have a bit of mercy and let it be the end of me. "…Whose is it, then?" I tightened my fists, my nails digging into my palms and my knuckles turning white despite the dirt that covered them. I didn't want to hear what he had to say, if he would answer at all. There was only one Sentinel left if you didn't count Vigomon: the Guardians of the Moon. There was but one question.

Which one was going to die?

His eyes closed, his frightening tears slipping down his face, the broken creature's voice broke as he shouted, pain tracing every letter with a bloody finger, "…Yours…!" The sand in my throat turned to acid, eating the color from my skin and stealing the strength away from the rest of my body. My hands remained in fists, though, and I held myself up in that warrior-way that I'd always seen Raveamon stand in.

If I was going to die today, I was going to go out feeling that way I should've from the start: Like a Guardian. Like a Sentinel. Like I was worth something. Like I meant something in this world, and had meant something to someone in the human world. I wasn't a waste of space, no matter what Raveamon wanted me to believe. And she, my beloved Human Spirit, was not evil. She was no devil, no demon, no mere creature. She was mine. My Spirit, my friend, my companion. And I was willing to do anything to save her and my brother.

I was ready to die.

"It seems like you've been saying that all your life, Toshiku," A sharp, cold chill dug its claws into my back at the icy voice that echoed through the darkness behind me. It was the kind of voice that you never got used to hearing, always being a surprise to your ears. The kind of surprise you felt when you realized that there was something standing behind you. In the dark. When you should be all alone. But you're not. "But we'll be finding out whether or not you're lying this time, won't we?"

A confident, maliciously sick chortle tore from Raveamon's throat, sounding as if she'd just severed someone's head and had been sprayed with his blood. Seeing as she was this lost to the light, I wouldn't be surprised if she had done something like that during her time apart from me. It was a terrifyingly real possibility, no matter how sad it made me. My Human Spirit enjoyed her own pain and the pain of others. Why wouldn't she go off and become a serial killer in her free time?

Glancing around me, the dark-hearted fiend grinned and waggled her fingers at Vigomon, who merely ignored her childish but harm-intending antics. "So, I see you've found your silly little brother before me," Her eyes turned from my Digital brother to me; she seemed taken aback that I neither had looked nor spoken to her once yet. She was trying not to let it get to her. "Not that I'm surprised. You always were a stubborn, hard-headed little subeta when it came to competitions—"

"This isn't a game, Raveamon. Not to me. Not anymore," Slowly, dreading what I might see, I turned around and faced my Spirit. She was the same way that she'd always been on the outside aside from her bloodshot eyes and demonic grin, but she was broken and twisted and knotted on the inside like necklaces all mangled together in a jewelry box left unattended for ages. I hoped I could be the one able to sort out that mess.

"I know now that I don't have to be the strongest physically to be a great warrior—a great Sentinel. It's all in my head; it's what I think of myself. It's the decisions I make and how I go about acting on them. It's about what I stand for, what's in my soul, my heart, and what I believe is right and wrong. And right now, Raveamon, you're doing an awful lot of wrong. And as a Sentinel, it's my duty to atone for the wrong you've done.

"I am willing to do anything and everything it takes to save the soul of the being behind me that you are threatening, and any other person that fears for his safety. I will give life, love, and liberty to protect those who need it, and without a second glance at what it will cost me. You see, Raveamon, I stopped caring about that. I've felt the worst pains the world has to offer; what can fate throw at me that I haven't already seen? What can you do to me that could possibly make me fear you?

"So, yes, Raveamon. We are going to find something out tonight, but not about me. Tonight, I'm not fighting for myself, and I never will again. Tonight, I will fight for those who need me. I will defend Vigomon, and I will do anything I can to bring you back to where you belong: standing right here by my side. So," I breathed in deeply through my nose, feeling the sweet, clean air of the Digital World filling my lungs and giving my beaten body strength. "Any more questions?"

It was clear to see that Raveamon hadn't been expecting such a change in me. She knew the girl who would fight to the death if someone merely dishonored her, but here…this was. This sick, sick, sick child who thought that it would make a difference in the long run if she kept on going even though there was nothing more that she could do. This little…thing standing between her and her prize. This…

This beam of light breaking through the dark void of her world.

Raveamon snarled menacingly at me, her upper lip curled back and twitching in a bestial fashion. "You've no Spirit to evolve to, do you?" Raising her nose to the air slightly, she breathed in an exaggerated way, scenting the air like a dog would if in search of a rabbit. The black-suited Digimon looked more vicious than any fighting mutt that I'd ever seen before, though. Much more.

Lowering her head and staring at me heavily from under her long, dark lashes, her scowl remained fierce as she answered her own question. "I don't smell Wereraiomon's essence anywhere near you," A sudden rage filled her body as she suddenly took offence at something she assumed I was hinting at with my actions. Something I hadn't meant at all. "You…you think you don't need a Spirit to fight me with, don't you, you foolish, insignificant, worthless idiot!" Her voice rose to a roar by the end of her sentence, my ears ringing at the deafening decibel she could reach.

Rivers of curses dripped from her mouth as she stormed forward, her pulsating sword now clenched tightly in her fist, its intention set clear in her mind. But I felt no fear of her. I knew that when the time came, I could defeat her. Spirit or no Spirit, she would see the light once more. Time, yes, it would take some time. This would not be a short fight. However, in the end, I knew that she would be returned to her former glory.

She would be mine once more. If only for a moment.

I was taken off-guard when something grabbed my shoulder from behind, yanking me backwards and into the circle of candles forcefully. Looking up hurriedly, I saw that Vigomon had his hand on my shoulder, keeping me beside him there in the haven of the light. His pained eyes were trained on Raveamon, reduced to slits as he watched her come closer and closer, all her hate and malevolence painted on her face.

I opened my mouth to tell him to get out of there while Raveamon was so fixated on me, but no sound came out. My throat was dry and refused to cooperate with my eager lips and tongue; I doubted Vigomon would've listened to me anyway. My brother had been like me in that way, having that touch of stubbornness. I was, by far, much worse, but apparently his Digimon-DNA was amplifying some of his attributes.

Neither of us moved as Raveamon reached the edge of the candles, coming to a stop a foot away from the border. I could hear her ragged breathing, see the pulsing, aggravated veins popping out of her neck and face, and taste the satanic black seeping from her pores. Her grip on the white weapon tensed as she raised it high above her head, but still Vigomon made no sign of moving. He didn't even seem afraid of her. Not at all.

With an ear-splitting yell that would've made one think she was in pain, Raveamon brought her sword down hard, aiming to split me in two from the head down. I found it impossible to move; I couldn't even close my eyes and await the impact moment. I just stood there paralyzed, and stared at the face of my soon-to-be killer. My Human Spirit. My friend. And now, even when she was about to kill me, I could find no hate for her in my soul. There was nothing of the sort.

But the strike never came. A loud crack sounded above me, shocking me out of my paralysis and making me flinch. When I looked up, I saw that Raveamon was staring at where her sword had become lodged in what appeared to be a Plexiglas bubble that had enveloped the circle of candles. The curved point of the Moon Beam's blade had cracked the top part where it had first made contact, but other than that it had done nothing but stun my attacker.

"I knew she was coming for me," Vigomon's voice startled me, having not heard him speak since he'd said that I was going to die some time very soon. I'd been waiting for that moment to come, counting the seconds until it would, but…it never would if he kept rescuing me like that. Not that I wasn't grateful, just…confused. "And I knew that you were coming as well, to warn me. I may not use them often, but I share many of the same powers that your Spirits have. All of us Sentinels have them.

"I've read your mind since the day I learned you were in the Digital World, I've hunted you for just as long. Cherubimon never allowed me to attack you, told me to wait until the time was right, but I'd never truly felt the want to. You were too…familiar. Too interesting and fascinating a human to kill. However, orders were orders, and Sentimon and Obstimon both were keen on going after you as that monster had wanted. So, I went along with things.

"It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I started to realize something was very, very wrong. I began to have dreams that I couldn't seem to wake up from; Cherubimon woke me from one, I'm sure you remember it. It was the day that I saved you from Mercurymon and Ranamon, when they stole you away from the Warriors in Seraphimon's castle. I…I'd thought that it was all a dream, so I…I helped you without a second thought. It felt right to be…that way with you, that friendly…that…close…

"Cherubimon tried to get me to understand why it was crucial that you die, and why it was so important that it be done quickly. But I didn't want you to. I wasn't done figuring out who you were, and what you meant to me—no, why you affected me the way you did. Every night I would lie awake, plagued by your face, your memory. And I just couldn't understand why.

"Then he told Duskmon the news I'd dreaded. It was time for Raveamon to wake up. I knew that if she took over your mind, you would surely die. Maybe in a matter of hours, days if you were truly unlucky enough to suffer for that long. I tried to get Cherubimon to reconsider, but he could sense that my mind was damaged by you, and he refused to listen to me, sending me away from him to collect myself. But I couldn't. I didn't know how to give you up after so long.

"Everything goes blurry right about there. Obstimon thought that I was losing my mind, and Sentimon was beginning to follow in my footsteps. Try as hard as I might, I couldn't bring myself to admit that I was wrong and Cherubimon was right, that it was for the best that you die. Your voice kept running through my mind, what you called me that day I fought Mercurymon and Ranamon for you. You called me 'Daijiro', 'brother'. I couldn't stop thinking about that.

"I heard a little voice in my mind, talking to me, whispering in the most sincere little voice that I'd ever heard before in my life. He kept telling me, 'You're right. He's wrong. Don't give up' saying that same thing over and over again until I was almost sick of hearing it. I didn't understand what he was talking about until a few days ago, and even then I didn't want him to be right because…well, it was impossible! But, then again, nothing seems to be impossible when it comes to this place.

"There are three souls residing in this body: Your brother's, the original Vigomon's, and the evil soul that Cherubimon planted. They can be separated, but there's only one way for it to be done, and you're not going to like it," His face had become grave, solemn but certain as he continued to stare at Raveamon, still beating at the barrier between her and her victims. "But it must be done. I need you to promise me that no matter what you see, no matter what I do, you will not help me. You must do this for me. For your brother."

Stunned and speechless, I looked away from Raveamon to stare into Vigomon's stony face. He refused to even glance at me, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready to fight. I didn't know what he was going to do, but I could sense that he knew. He'd spent more than enough time thinking and planning and learning to be able to come up with a hypothesis that was plausible. A theory that could explain all of this. But even if he wasn't as calculated and intelligent as he was…

As Sentinels, I was required to trust him.

Nodding my head slightly, I gulped and forced my voice to a decibel a bit louder than a whisper, "…I promise…not to do anything…" The words of resignation stung as they passed my lips, feeling as if I'd taken an ember still burning a bright, angry red and tried to swallow it. There was nothing worse in my mind than not being able to come to someone's defense if they were in need, especially now that I'd specifically been told not to help. It was like being commanded not to breathe.

Not even three seconds after I'd given my oath, Vigomon acted. He unsheathed his sword, and slashed it against the shiny, clear surface of the bubble that Raveamon had been beating mercilessly on for the past couple of minutes. The one little strike was enough to make the entire thing disintegrate before my eyes, the material turning into a dust that blew away in the wind, sparkling like glitter as it flew away. But they little specks only held my attention for a few moments, Vigomon having captured it again when he leapt high up into the air, catapulting himself over Raveamon's head and onto the ground behind her.

She turned quickly, stunned by his actions as much as I was. Grinning at him darkly, a deep chuckle erupted from within her pale throat. "So, you are willing to fight. You'll never know how happy that makes me." The demon threw her head back and a witch-like cackle echoed throughout the whole clearing, making me shudder involuntarily. Vigomon, however, stood like a stone, poised with his sword before him, ready for battle.

The promise I'd made to stay out of the fight was far from my mind as it finally ensued, but I couldn't move from the circle even if I had wanted to. My legs were frozen in place, numb to the point of having to look to make sure they were still there. Both heart and soul now stood still, feeling empty and dusty like a house that had had one too many scary stories told about it.

Vigomon was a valiant soldier, every movement, either offensive or defensive, was perfectly placed and purposeful. He was in complete control of himself, unlike Raveamon. She pounded on his armor with her sword and body like a madman, growls and cries pouring from her lips like blood from a wound. Each of her blows sounded like two trucks in a head-on collision, but neither of them seemed to be in any pain. Sometimes I noticed a grimace, but nothing else.

Nevertheless, one of them had to fall eventually. It was only a matter of time.

Metal clanged and scraped against fellow metal as their swords locked, but Vigomon shoved the shadow-shrouded saint away with a grunt, reclaiming his original battle stance immediately. Raveamon allowed him to throw her back a yard or two, relaxing her body and letting it move however it pleased as she came to a stop. I would've expected her to be outraged; this other Digimon was holding his own against her! But she wasn't. She was still smiling as if she thought this was funny.

After a short moment of silence, a sweetly villainous voice flooded the air in a way I hadn't for a very long time, the reverberations directed to Vigomon. " Somewhere beyond happiness and sadness, I need to calculate what creates my own madness. And I'm addicted to your punishment. Yeah, you're the master, and I am waiting for disaster.

" I feel irrational, so confrontational. To tell the truth, I am getting away with murder! It is impossible to never tell the truth. But to tell the truth I am— " Without so much as a flinch or a mere warning, Raveamon hurled her sword like a knife, the blade slicing through Vigomon's armor and sinking deep into his chest with a sickening sound. The crack of the armor was like bones breaking, and, without a doubt, a few of his ribs probably had been shattered.

With a grin twisting her face, Raveamon finished her little song as a tear fell from my eye. " Getting away with murder! " There was not one single clue that hinted towards any kind of remorse in Raveamon's gaze, not even a pinch of sadness for the fatal blow having been dealt to an adversary who'd been capable of holding himself firm in her presence while others had crumbled. It made me angry. Angry enough to act.

A cloud of fine, white, and smoke-like vapors began to veil Vigomon as he began to collapse, Raveamon's sword still wedged in his chest. He dropped to his knees, sticking his own sword into the ground to try and keep himself upright for a tad bit longer; it wasn't helping much. I could see that this was bad; hell, I could sense it. That smoke wasn't normal. It wasn't how regular Digimon died. At first, I wasn't quite sure what it was, but now, as I stared, I knew.

Vigomon had said before how there were multiple souls existing within that one body: the Spirits of the Sentinel of Life, the evil entity Cherubimon had injected, and Daijiro. With Vigomon's element, he could control certain aspects regarding life and death, like I could with water and the moon, so he would be able to choose what would die. Body or spirit. And with three spirits to choose from, all he'd have to do would be single out the evil one, and then all of our problems would be solved.

Unless he wasn't strong enough to beat the entity. The darkness.

My mind whirred with confusion and fear; not knowing what was going to happen but knowing that there was absolutely nothing that I could do frightened me. But my fear subsided slightly and bubbled into rage when I saw that Raveamon was moving steadily back over to him. Going back in for the kill. She was ready for this to be over and done, ready to slit his throat and race back away into the night and leave me with my pain and sorrow.

Not on my watch. Clenching my teeth against my body's unwillingness, I forced myself forward and out of the circle of Sentinel candles. I scanned the ground hurriedly for any kind of weapon, finding only a semi-thick tree limb that had been knocked down back when I'd first came to the clearing, far before Raveamon had appeared. Snatching it up without breaking stride, I forced all fear from my mind as I jumped up and smashed the branch into the side of Raveamon's head.

The branch shattered on impact, but the black-tinted warrior hadn't even seemed surprised by what I had thought had been a sneak-attack. If anything, the assault had qualified as being a bit irritating. She turned back to face me slowly, menacingly, her crimson eyes burning as if she were stunned that I had acted in such a vainly courageous manner to help someone that had once been my enemy. She knew the person who would rather die than help an opponent.

But she'd only ever seen the dark side of me.

Without a single word of recognition or even denouncement, Raveamon snarled viciously and swatted me away from her with her arm. She hit me hard, obviously not caring that I was merely human now, and much more vulnerable and feeble in such a form. The air was forced from my lungs as her arm collided with my torso, sending me flying through the air and bringing me to drop the remainders of the tree limb.

I came to an abrupt stop when my back hit a rough tree trunk, my head smacking back against the hard wood. Black began to dot at my vision almost playfully as I dropped to the ground face-first, tasting iron and dirt in my mouth as I tried to remain conscious. But, as time went on, it became more and more difficult to tell what was real and what was a dream.


Blinded by bright white light, I raised my hands to try and shield my eyes so that they could have a moment or two to adjust. I'd never been anywhere this white and clear before; it was unnatural, unreal. It felt as if I were trapped inside a cloud, or a mental institute. Based on my previous actions, words, and thoughts, I was starting to think that the psycho ward was much more likely.

After a couple of moments, my eyes became a bit more used to the extremely white lights that seemed to come from nowhere, and I took a look around me. However, I couldn't make out where I was. I saw nothing that resembled walls, or a ceiling, or even a floor. No trees, no bushes, no dirt, no nothing. I was in a huge, empty, endless, white space. No color anywhere around me, except for me. But even then, looking at my skin and clothes, I was surprised.

I was in absolutely no pain; all my scratches, gashes, and bruises were gone, along with any scars that they would've left. Even all my original scars were gone, leaving me with completely clean, spotless skin. Even my clothes were clean—cleaner than they'd probably been when I'd first bought them. It made me feel as if I'd been perfected by something powerful, but such a thought felt a little silly to me. Why would something put so much effort into making me a little bit less horrible?

"I don't think you've ever been horrible, Toshiku. Misguided and often oblivious, but not horrible."

I spun hurriedly to face the direction that the oddly serene and beautiful voice had come from, but it was beyond difficult to guess where to look in a place such as this. It was like being upside down in black waters, not knowing which way was up, but knowing that if you didn't find it soon, it wasn't going to matter anymore. Oxygen would no longer be a requirement.

Though I was searching as hard as I could, I saw nothing, no one. And the echo that the voice had created was long gone now in the air around me, though it was fresh and quite new within my mind. It was one of those noises that you heard, but you could never forget, like a loved one's final words before passing, a lover's last good-bye, a good friend's gentle laugh. But this…this had been like the voice of a queen, each and every syllable having been pronounced with utmost clarity and tranquility. There was nothing that could compare.

But who had it been? I'd tried to call out, but my voice refused to come to me. I felt the air rushing in and out of my mouth and nose in an attempt to breathe in and out, trying multiple times to break the barrier around my throat by screaming, but even then, nothing came out. It was as if I didn't really exist, like I wasn't physical enough to make any noise. Of course, that didn't explain how that woman had been able to speak…

"You're quick when you want to be," A feminine chuckle sounded from behind me, and I spun around madly to face whoever had appeared behind me so suddenly. I was completely unprepared for who stood there behind me. A very, very tall woman wearing long, flowing purple robes with long blond hair, her bangs kept out of her face by a white metallic band that looked incredibly familiar, and bold, wise eyes that were of the most radiant blue I'd ever seen. It was unbelievable, the perfection of her face.

Except for one thing.

There was a kind of mask over most of her face, hiding her nose and her mouth, along with both cheeks. It was intricately marked, the lines and swirls and symbols all seeming so precise that I figured that they must mean something. However, what that something was, I had next to no idea. I did notice that a couple of the strange squiggles on her robes and mask seemed to resemble the symbol for Moon though…

Before I had a chance to try and speak again, the mystery Digimon-woman beat me to it. "I know that your life hasn't been going so well for you recently, having found out so much of the truth so quickly with none of it really being explained to you. Not to mention losing many of the people that you loved very dearly, be it to death or the line of duty. And believe me, I know the feeling well.

"You've been getting better slowly, and I'm proud of you. It's an honor to be one of you, one of the Moon Dwellers. But I'm also aware of the pickle that you're in: You don't have a Spirit to evolve to. And, with your potential in this world, I believe that that's a true pity. Enough so, that I'm willing to help you," The currently nameless Digimon extended one of her hands to me; her fingers were long and metallic, looking more like a part of a machine than a hand. "Take my hand, and we'll save this world together."

I stared up at her face, my gaze locking with hers as I ignored her offer for the moment. I didn't understand. Where was I? Why was it impossible for me to make even the smallest of sounds when she could do all of this and not even wonder about my strange silence? Who was this, anyway? She seemed so familiar, her face…I knew that I'd seen it before. But her robes were not as easy to recall, nor was the gentleness in her voice.

But, if one was to add anger and pain to it, then I knew for certain whom it was. Adding the face to the new voice I could actually remember, I was completely sure who it was I was speaking with, and it made me want to fall to my knees in reverence. Dreams had crossed my mind that she'd been in, visions of the past had been centered around her, but never once had I ever thought that I would be face to face with her.

Shitsurenmon

Without another moment's hesitation, I placed my hand in hers, ready for anything that might be thrown my way. I had the Digimon who fought with Lucemon and survived, being able to leave him with a single scar to show for her efforts. I had nothing to fear. Daijiro had nothing to fear. The Digital World was going to be all right after all.


I was blinded again, but this time by the dark of the night that shrouded me like thick smog. The earthy scent of wet dirt was strong around me, and I could taste it faintly in my mouth after I got past the sticky-iron taste of old blood. For a moment, I wasn't certain why I'd fallen asleep. There was something I had to do, something important that I had to find…

It hit me like a grenade, exploding in a matter of seconds.

Despite the pain that wracked my whole body, I shot to my feet, spinning around and around, searching for the two Digimon that had been fighting the last time I'd been conscious. But they weren't there. Both were gone. The only trace that was left behind was some splattered blood and the remnants of their forest-battleground. Trees were split in unnatural angles and huge branches were scattered all over the ground. But I cared very little about the trees right now.

I'd failed again; the knowledge of this weighed so heavily upon me that I found it impossible to remain upright. I dropped back down onto my seat, leaning against the battered tree behind me. My breath caught in my throat as my mind and heart began to process exactly what that meant. Biting my bottom lip to keep it from trembling, my hand flew to my neck, attempting to seek peace and comfort from the verres that were always with me. They reminded me of the friends that I'd had to leave, made me feel a little bit more real and not quite so…empty.

But they were also gone. The whole collar, gone.

I gasped in shock, eyes and hands immediately beginning to search the ground for any of the variously colored gems. There was a chance that it had just dropped from my neck due to the force of Raveamon's punch, but it had never fallen off before. Nothing could explain its disappearance other than that which I feared the most: Raveamon had taken it.

Pain and betrayal drilled deeply into my chest; there was no way to describe the absolute despair that wracked my soul. I was lost in a sea of black without any kind of light, without any way of knowing which way was the right way to swim to be able to get away from the storm, the hurricane, that was barreling down at me. I had nothing. And I couldn't save my brother with nothing. If he was even still alive to be able to be saved.

I wasn't sure if I'd felt more defeated in my life compared to what I did right now. I couldn't find a reason to get my feet to want to carry me, my legs to want to run as far from this place as they could go. There was no purpose for anything. I'd lost my brother, the last of my family, the one that I'd harmed the most. He hadn't deserved to be killed, especially not by someone as cruel and cold as whom Raveamon had turned out to be. He shouldn't have had to face any of this pain.

But he did face it. He fought against it as hard as he could, tried his best to win the battle. But even the greatest strike he could dish out wasn't enough to win his right to live back. That was where I should've stepped in. I should've taken the penalty for losing for him. I should've been there, I should've been more responsible. Maybe then I would be able to make up for what I'd done.

It was too late now.

I wanted to dig a hole in the ground and bury myself, suffocate myself with dirt and hope that I woke up in a place where I could pay for all the wicked things that I'd done, but I knew that I couldn't give up. Raveamon was still out there, and I couldn't let her destroy someone else's brother. She had to be stopped even if I had absolutely no idea how to do it without a Spirit. But what about what Shitsurenmon said? She said she'd fix that.

My thoughts dissected the dream I'd just woken from, trying to recall everything that Shitsurenmon had mentioned. I even noted how her eyes had gazed upon me—like I would wake up confused beyond belief. She'd stared at me as if she knew something I should know but couldn't remember. She was right; I couldn't remember anything important, anything that would help me out right now.

I had no idea what to do now except stand up and just start walking until I thought up some stupid, reckless plot that would probably get me killed. It was my turn, anyways, seeing how both my parents and my brother were dead. I had nothing more to live for, to fight for. You have the Digital World, you have your friends, and you have Raveamon. You have to protect this world, guide your friends, and save your Human Spirit. Don't you dare give up.

Knowing my thoughts were right, I sighed and began to rise to my feet, unnerved by the sudden pain that I felt. The dream had taken away the pain long enough that I'd forgotten how badly I'd really been hurting, inside and out. I'd been used to it before, the soreness, exhaustion, tenderness, everything, but now I wasn't sure if I would be able to do much of anything and be successful.

However, my mind did not linger on my chances of survival with such a beaten body for very long. It was dragged from said thoughts when I felt something thump against my leg in a very, very familiar way. It couldn't be… My eyes widened in shock as my hands hurried to grasp at this miracle hanging from one of my belt loops. Everything stopped—my heart, the wind, the Digital World's spinning—when I saw what it was.

Another D-Tector.

Unclipping the shiny new device from my belt, I held it before me in two shaking hands, staring at it like a child would a new pet that they'd been praying for years for. It was nothing like my previous D-Tector, having been black and white. This one was a brilliant gold, the buttons a purple more royal than what any of the nobles in the ancient worlds could've wished to have worn. I'd never seen anything like it before, none of the Warrior's D-Tectors looked quite like this one.

But how had it come into my possession? There was no one around me that could've been able to give it to me—or would've at all—and if they had (like, if it had been Vigomon), they would've said something. But, no. Nothing had been told to me, nothing at all. Vigomon hadn't even hinted at anything concerning a new D-Tector; he hadn't seemed to notice it, and neither had Raveamon.

'You don't have a Spirit to evolve to…I'm willing to help you. Take my hand, and we'll save this world together' My head buzzed with understanding when the realization finally hit me, striking me across the face as if having been slapped back to my senses. Shitsurenmon had done this—that was no dream that I'd had, it was all real! I'd really met Shitsurenmon, the Digimon who fought Lucemon and lived, in the flesh!

"'We'll save this world together'," I muttered her words to myself as I continued to gaze at the D-Tector, turning it over and over in my hands. I had to make sure it was real; there was no way that I was having this kind of good fortune. This had to be some kind of trick, right? But it felt real. It felt true. It felt alive. I could swear that I felt a pounding coming from within the device, a heart trapped inside striving to break through and bond with my own.

My hands shook violently as I pressed my fingers together, focusing on the center of my palm just like old times. Within moments, a diamond of data surrounded my hand, a shape that it had never taken before. I gazed at the two things before me: the new D-Tector and my own data-shrouded hand. A peace had passed over me, a sensation that was unlike anything that I'd ever felt before—like being stranded in a winter forest without ever feeling the utter coldness, drowning in an ocean but being able to breathe under water. But still…I was terrified to find out what I would become when that data was slashed.

Taking a deep breath and fighting back my fears with Shitsurenmon's words, I slowly dragged the data across the slot necessary to make the transformation; data enveloped my whole body almost instantly. Power and strength and healing coursed through every part of my body as my form was changed, all my pain fading away like dirt on the skin of a child standing out in a warm, tender rain. It was the most incredible thing I'd felt in a long time.

When the data finally left me, disappearing into the night and leaving me in darkness once more, I opened my new eyes to see what I'd become, fearing slightly what it might be. But all doubt left me almost instantly—I was stunned by what I saw since this body was so different from the queen-like Digimon I'd seen before, but I could tell that despite all the huge differences, it was still the same Digimon beneath the new exterior.

My whole body was metallic except for my head and neck, all places were skin showed was, instead of being the normal skin tone, was a silvery chrome. My hands and feet were basically the same as what the vision had shown me of Shitsurenmon: completely metallic, with sharp, pointed fingers that looked more like scissor blades than fingers. The metal frame of my body was covered with thick black leather, though there were some square holes showing the chrome beneath for reasons I was unsure of. Chains and belts were tied around various parts of my body, along with two thin swords strapped to my back. My hair was short and blonde, held out of bold, threatening blue eyes by that same familiar band (I knew why I'd recognized it now—it was the same thing that Kazemon wore over her eyes). The same odd mask covered my mouth, though I knew not why.

However, before I could make any conscious effort to figure anything out about it, my mind went blank like it had in that white empty space. It was filled, not by my own thoughts, but by the words of someone else, someone I now knew well. "This is my battle form, if you haven't already guessed. What do you think? Test it out, make sure you know you can handle this body. I have next to no control over it." Shitsurenmon's voice within me was confident but concerned, as if she knew something I didn't yet again.

I didn't worry about it even as I began to obey her request for me to practice before leaving the place I was currently at. "All right…" I clenched my fists a time or two just to see what it felt like to have hands made out of metal, and was completely unprepared for what became of my little test. Two grenades appeared in each of my palms.

"Holy—" Reacting much faster than humanly possible, I tossed both unpinned grenades up into the air and dashed away from them. They exploded only moments later, destroying everything around them that was within four or five meters from the detonation point. …A bit of warning would've been nice…but holy crap that was freaking awesome!

My pleasure with how powerful those blasts had been cancelled out my annoyance of having had no idea such a thing was possible—that grenades could pop out of my hands. But if that could happen, what else could this amazingly unstable body do? For all I knew, there were no limits as to what I could do while in this form!

"Oh, please," Shitsurenmon sounded mildly amused at my enthusiasm over her battle form. I wasn't surprised; technically, I was gushing over how incredible she was. And most people liked it when that happened. "The real thing you need to know about it is the Apocalypse Spin." She said it so calmly, as if it really didn't matter much at all, as if it were utterly normal and there was nothing special about the attack that she'd mentioned.

I felt that it was the exact opposite. "What do I do? I don't know what that is." I glanced down at my hands, wondering if I would figure it out if I tried to make them into fists again. However, my foolish mental wanderings were interrupted by Shitsurenmon's answer, though it was not a verbal one. A sense of knowing swept over me, bringing me to understand everything and anything I might need to know about this form and what it could do. Including the Apocalypse Spin.

Holding my hands out to each side, I breathed in and out deeply, trying to both mentally and physically prepare myself for such an intricately choreographed attack. However, I was interrupted by Shitsurenmon's voice sounding in my head again, "You don't have time for this, Toshiku. Your brother doesn't have much time—he needs your help right now!"

Everything stopped around me.

My heart slowed its beating until I was almost positive that it had completely stopped. How could this be? Daijiro was…still alive? Raveamon hadn't killed him? Was this true? There was no way, it couldn't be true. Why would Raveamon leave him alive…unless she was trying to use him as bait to get to me now that she knew for sure who he really was? And knowing that I wouldn't be able to just leave him to die…she knew I'd be coming.

But that didn't matter to me. Closing my hands into fists so tightly the metal creaked, I realized something: I'd promised myself that I wouldn't let my worry over Raveamon get in the way of my duty as a Sentinel. I'd left the warm embrace of my friends and lover in order to true to the Digital World—I had to do the same to Raveamon. And that meant fighting her. It meant saving my brother from her wrath.

I broke into a run then, tracing Raveamon's scent—it was like a thick black cloud of smoke, so easy to follow. But even without such a simple trail to follow, there would be no way in the world that she would be able to find a place where she could hide from me. I wasn't after her this time—I only wanted my brother, and I would do everything I could to just grab him and get away from Raveamon as fast as possible. I couldn't risk a fight that also endangered Daijiro.

But…if I had to, I was more than prepared.

Don't worry, Dai. I'm going to make up for everything I've done. You'll see.


I hope you guys liked that chapter! And sorry about the bit of a cliffhanger there, gotta have something to go off of for the next one lol.

The song that Raveamon quoted in there was Getting Away With Murder by Papa Roach.

Like I said before, I hope to have the next couple chapters out relatively soon, and thanks so much to everybody who's stuck with this story despite how sometimes it seems to take close to forever for me to update. You guys deserve cookies! :D