Flamon=Flamemon
Pinocchimon=Puppetmon
Chapter 34: Digital World: Dark Evolution V
Agnimon yelped in surprise, trying to jump back only to find that he was bound tightly by –as a glance around revealed- poison threads of –one, two, five- seven Dokugumon and spider webs from one of the two present Archnemon.
He jerked his head the side, the only part of his body he could move, dodging the female spider's sharp teeth by the breath of a hair. A peculiar smell tickled in his nose. They were poisons. And his face was the only part not covered in armor.
As if that'd work!
Fire sparked from the joints in his second skin and burned through his bindings in no time at all. Agnimon jumped backwards, flipping once, twice, before landing on his feet, sneering.
In the back of his mind he noticed that he was in a different place form where he had started his evolution. They were trying to kidnap him again. Fools. He'd rather die first.
No. The relevant question rather was if Agnimon's presence had been reported to the higher ups.
"If I may, my Lord." One of the few shadows bowed, taking a small step forward, once a red eyes gave permission with its impassiveness. "May I request to head the retrieval?"
The silence was as always heavy and thick, but at this request it turned as solid as air could with appraising, dismissing, angry, blank, envious, and emotionless stares directed at its back. The shadow was not intimidated, and elaborated on its request, encouraged by the Lord's lack of reaction and judgment.
"The Spirit of Fire is violent and unpredictable one. Myself already has experience with it and I wish to clean my sullied honor by delivering it to your feet where it belongs."
There was not one scoff or sneer of superiority from those capable of thought. The shadow which had voiced this assessment was not the only one to return in failure with regards to that element.
Eventually, the Lord spoke, voice carrying through the darkness that was not a bother to anyone. "I do not see why I should bother sending you, knowing you will fail."
The Lord's pause seemed particular aggressive. The shadow felt apprehension, dirty fear and cold shock seep into its bones. What was the Lord saying?
"If you need personal encounter to determine Fire acts as it is defined to, free in its decision and unforgiving to those slated as an enemy, I do not see how you could manage to find it even if you have searched the exact area in the last days it."
"My Lord! I-" the shadow cut itself off as the tension in the air spiked and tension was thick enough to suffocate.
"-be that as it may," his Majesty continued, red eyes leaving the cowering figure and piercing the darkness with a glance. "You are not the only one to have failed your duty lately."A second shadow shifts. "I shall be gracious today. Take troops and some of the special matter we have just for them. I want Fire and the rats dead, Phelesmon. Do not disappoint me."
Phelesmon bowed deeply, swallowing. "I shall return victorious." Once again rats have appeared within the Fire's reach, but this time it shall not be enough. Phelesmon was going to make sure to fulfill his Majesty's wish and get his revenge in the same move. Hopefully it was that MetalGarurumon and its human again. Paying that fire host back of the petty insults it had voiced in Phelesmon's presence the first time and the last time they met was to be a gift. That powerless human.
As Phelesmon left, ordering his troops, it a red tongue darted over pink lips. Murmuxmon had failed to capture it twice. Being the one to bring it before His Majesty now would surely raise Phelesmon finally above that filthy copy cat.
In any case, he better hurry this fight up. Careful with the fire control, he thought. He was going to turn this into a slaughter. The digimon here, controlled or not, all had a tendency towards evil anyway and he could not afford to be as kind to the Dokugumon if it was the fate of the digital world he was gambling.
May their souls rest in peace.
Kicking off the ground, he sprinted forward, sliding underneath the wave of threats shot at him. They hissed, poisoning the grass, but Agnimon only had a mind for the offensive. Shooting to his feet, he went straight at the closest Archnemon. In a head charge, he closely avoided her threads and grasped them in his hands. Picking up his speed he slid underneath her. Agnimon forcefully flipped her onto her back when he pulled on her strings and she struggled, her eight legs punching in the air helplessly, her torso too weak turn around.
Agnimon wasn't done yet. Swirling around, he threw the spider into Dokugumon and they both crashed into the ground. Still connected with Archnemon through her web, he ignited his end and watched the flames lick along the cord for a split second, before he threw himself flat to the ground.
Rolling, he narrowly avoided more poison as a Dokugumon scurried near, jaw twitching and front legs raised to pierce his body. In mid roll he lashed out with an arm in the spider's direction, throwing flames in its direction, before he scrambled to his feet.
The Dokugumon closest to him was set aflame. Another Dokugumon and one Archnemon were a still living and but in helpless heap of flaming limps.
Leaving the one behind him burning, Agnimon zeroed in on the other two burning digimon.
Flipping backwards he disappeared between the trees and used them as cover as he ran around what had turned into the battle field. Jumping up on a low branch vicious spit flew under him as he kicked against the tree hard.
His foot cut through into the bark and a Dokugumon left the tree on a thin threat. It passed right by him and he jumped after. He landed on it, digging his sparking feet into its skull-marked back as he used the momentum form his fall to launch a heavy fist at its head. Flames sparked on impact and Agnimon felt something give.
The Dokugumon turned black, a data ring appeared, which Agnimno briefly palmed, before somersaulting off, right in the direction of the heap of two burning and panicking spider digimon. Spinning, he coated himself thinly in flames, burning poison and webs well before they touched him and extended a leg. "Salamander Break!"
The hit translated through Archnemon's body, turning all two of them into data rings and eggs. Agnimon palmed them as well before quickly scrambling behind trees again. Three balls of data were gathering in his hands and Agnimon resolved to deal with them later.
For now he still had fighting to do. One Archnemon and three Dokugumon down, one still burning which he had to deal with next lest it accidentally set the forest aflame. That left as far as he could see one Archnemon and about eighteen Dokugumon.
He was going to be here for some while still, but against these odds he was really lucky he could kill them so easily with his fire.
He pressed the button, his finger shaking, but…
But he had already decided it was too late to go back.
Done and gone.
He had made a decision and now he would have to stick with it.
And if he had to go out, then he wanted to make them regret ever taking him along. Breaking their deal.
No matter how scared he was, no matter how much he regretted as well.
A red light appeared on his monitor and he startled, fearfully taking a look around and confirming he was still alone. He was and for a moment he stared at the display, indecision pulling at him, before he shook his head.
He had made his resolution.
One anchor had been found, uprooted and was now carried around. He couldn't see any use with it, but meddling with the anchors was sure to enrage His Majesty. It would serve him right.
He only hoped His Majesty had no particular interest in that one for a long time, because otherwise his end was going to come sooner than the one week he thought it to be.
Mimi sighed heavily.
In peace times the digital world was a heaven to hang out in. Everything free and natural and beautiful. The last peaceful few years had made her forget what a chore being a Digidestined was. No food, no water, the clothes on her back, no help, no advise, and this time not even anyone -except Palmon, but she didn't count because digital world without Palmon was not going to happen ever; anyway just impossible- of her friends. Or any particular direction or goal that had to work towards, walk miles for nothing than some vague overriding determination of 'get-rid-of-the-evil'.
It was horrible.
Her bag was heavy too, filled with that stupid cube, heavy thing that it was. Why had she decided to take it along again? She couldn't even say. Especially since she was so suspicious of the thing she hadn't even dared to touch it.
But well, there had to be a reason her digivice had pointed it out to her.
Didn't stop her from complaining her mouth dry to Palmon, though.
Agnimon was breathing heavily, hands on his knees.
It was over, finally.
Blood rushing in his ears, he glanced around.
For all that he had not wanted to burn the forest down, he hand not managed to avoid damage entirely. Even now there were still flames licking at the remains of once blooming trees that Agnimon had to will to disappear and even that small bit of control cost him more effort than he cared to admit and with a defeated grunt he let his legs fold away from under him. The ground was soft, covered with sheens of ash and at his abrupt moment the light particles were disturbed, taking flight into the air, only adding and mixing into those that had never set to the earth in the first place. And weren't going to any time soon. Everything was still too hot; the ground, Agnimon, the air itself to allow peaceful settling.
A comparably cold breeze skittered through the forest, bring fresh and clean air into the blackened, still heated clearing that was the result of Agnimon's battle.
Between the gray and black earth, the only bright spots of color were the remains of the Dokugumon. About a dozen digi-eggs, just rolling around.
Agnimon only felt a spark of guilt.
Not regretting killing them all didn't mean he didn't regret he had needed to so in the first place.
There might even have been partner digimon among those. They wouldn't have been able to say anything or resist control or even show Agnimon they had a partner worrying for them.
Still, it couldn't be helped and that was that. Nothing more to say about it.
Licking his own blood from his lips, Agnimon took the reminder and heaved himself back to his feet. He hadn't come out of the fight without a scratch and a scratch against poison digimon usually translated directly towards being poisoned. He didn't feel any effects yet beyond it eating away at his skin and he was literally burning the wound, which might do something about the venom. In case it didn't, he had his body temperature raised in hoped of burning anything that wasn't supposed to be in his blood stream. If that didn't work...well. Then there was nothing Agnimon could do about it.
His arms were still heavy and his knuckles ached quite a bit as he stretched his arms over his head, but on the same note, he was still in evolution. There was no clear line, no difference anymore between Takuya and Agnimon. Nothing that went beyond physical appearance. Any mental differences were just a cause that happened with evolution. In his core, Agnimon was now one being.
And that had one giant flaw. Being tired did no longer mean devolving, a finishing hit no longer meant devolving. Loss of Spirits meant loss of life, no second chances attached.
Well, he thought, it wasn't like fighting for my life is anything new. It wasn't like he had fought with the expectation of second chances anyway. Especially in the beginning.
Devolving on the other hand probably would save him energy, though, and do some healing. Just like with every other digimon. Better do-
Sharp whistling of the air reached Agnimon and he threw himself forward, rolling.
Something cut through the air just behind him and he sensed wind bristle through his hair. Agnimon came up on his knees, arms crossed defensively in front of him. What he saw was among the last things he wanted to see.
"There you are, little pet," Phelsemon said, leering, from the shadows of the trees.
It wasn't alone either. Like a boomerang, a wooden cross turned in the air, disappearing in the trees for a short moment before it emerged again, this time in the hands of its wielder. A child with wooden features, a very pointed nose; Pinocchimon.
Leaves rustled in the wind, but it was not enough to hide the clicking of sharp yaws. A noise that Agnimon had just finally managed to get rid of.
Damn it.
Still..."Phelesmon," sneered Agnimon back. "So desperate to report back with failure again?" Pre-battle banter could be seen as standard. It had a practical use in testing out the opponent's temperament, purpose, attitude and then some. Agnimon right now bought time with it. "How often will you be allowed to return empty handed before death comes to knock?" Killing incompetent subordinates was standard for evil digimon as well, though Agnimon had only taken a stab in the dark since he really didn't know anything about the enemy's upper hierarchy.
The darkening of Phelesmon's expression though confirmed that he wasn't that far off the mark. Good to know, the idiot.
"You will bring me more prestige than you can imagine, human," the digimon hissed, threatening. "Soon you are going to be little more than a stepping stone. His Majesty- "also good to know-"will use you and there will be nothing left of you; nothing that will not serve the Lord."
Agnimon, deceptively slowly raising to his full height, tossed the digimon a coldly arrogant look. "I do not serve anyone I do not approve off. Some bastard who voluntary endures the presence of a clown like you will not gain my respect in a thousand years." His mind was racing with strategies even as he spoke. Pinocchimon, being a wood-type had the battleground advantage, but with a body of that material, just one hit from Agnimon's fire would be enough. A setting the ground flame would also keep the digimon out of any conflict. Phelesmon as a dark type was more neutral- "It is not in my nature. Fool."
Apparently Phelesmon wasn't ignorant about their respective element's characteristics. It smiled coldly. "Fire is so very arrogant. How very hypocritical for a wanna be savior," it mocked,"like you."
Arrogance. Well yes, Agnimon could not deny that. Or rather he couldn't have denied that had this been said at their last meeting. Now it was a different thing, at least some, because Takuya was not arrogant. Takuya did not look down on beings that did not share their, fire's, straight determination. Thus, Agnimon no longer did either; he reserved judgment till after first impressions now. Which was still arrogance, but not the kind Phelesmon expected. But Phelesmon did not need to know that. "It is not arrogance if it is true," he said instead. "Because so many of your little servants are still alive, right?"
Agnimon swung a hand at the burned clearing, indicating the dozen or so eggs. "I dare say," he grinned, "this does not speak well for your chances either." Pinocchimon was of a higher evolution that Phelesmon, technically of a higher evolution than Agnimon as well, but that counted little for both of them. Phelesmon clearly had the power between the two of them, while levels were not of much importance to Agnimon. To Agimon much more than levels, strategies, advantages, experience, intelligence and will counted.
Being controlled, Agnimon rather suspected all of the above were not present in Pinocchimon. How very luck. And how very stupid of Phelesmon.
So stupid inf act, that Agnimon did not see a reason for some more spider and wood digimon to come along...If Agnimon decided to be less careful with the surrounding, they were little more than dead-weight. Phelsemon should have brought water types...Something that was not above Phelesmon's intelligence level...
Phelsemon's lips curled in a smirk and Agnimon got a sinking feeling in his stomach. "We shall see about that, won't we, pet. After all, you don't look so good." Tired, poisoned, wounded.
Agnimon swallowed, but he forced a grin on his face. Intimidation was always good."Yes we will."
The muscles in his fists twitched and Agnimon shot forward. He had fire sparking from his armor, from his fist, coating his entire body in a sheen. Phelesmon dodged, skipping to the side and taking cover in the shadows of the trees easily. Pinocchimon was more careful, but it too was far out of Agnimon's reach.
But he hadn't aimed at them in the first place. Shooting past both of them, he didn't stop his momentum even as he pushed down on the fire. Phelesmon and Pinocchimon hadn't been his goal.
They were behind him now and Agnimon used the precious few moments before they realized his feint to search the trees, the shadows, behind green leaves. His eyes darted around, quickly the scenery blurring for any traces of red and purple.
Not there.
The seed of apprehension grow a bit more, Agnimon came to a stop. His opponents were Phelesmon and Pinocchimon alone? Then had he imagined, his memory playing tricks on him, the cold click-click-click of fangs?
Maybe, maybe not. It rather looked like it and Agnimon put everything else from his mind as he cartwheeled to the side, avoiding the red blur of a whip he was far too familiar with. But this time it was not going to be Agnimon's blood straining it, nor was he going to be helpless against it. Just the recollection made him grit his teeth however and fire burned with new strength through him.
Suddenly this fight was no longer unwelcome. Had he not wanted to reencounter Phelemon again? Had he not wanted to make it pay? Now he had a chance for it. And it was an enemy he would not have to regret slaying.
He snapped his right arm back, pushing heat out of his body before his anger devoured his insides and bent his knees.
Jumping, Agnimon felt the wooden cross of Pinocchimon fly under him, but he paid it no mind, instead focusing on the red snake-like weapon rushing towards him. Unable to move out of the way in mid air, Agnimon blocked the strike with his left arm. It slung and twisted around the limp, squeezing painfully around the armguard and making it dig into the flesh underneath. Agnimon snarled, grasping the cord even as it pulled and threw him into a tree. There was blood dripping form his lips, but Agnimon hardly noticed as he crashed into the hard ground, disoriented. He wasn't letting go.
Something hit him in the head, but again, he ignored it, his anger, blind fury, bloodlust, his emotion pushing it all from his mind in his effort not to let go. He got up, struggling to stay even on all fours, but he had the red thing in his sight and, with all his focus directed at it, he fisted the line, not caring how energy was oozing of it and eating into his hands. Oh no, Agnimon did not care about that. He cared about this being a line connecting two beings and the one weak point that always came with it.
It was Agnimon's turn, and he hauled, jerking at the thing and feeling the weight and resistance behind it before it finally surrendered to Agnimon's force.
A snarl wanted to rip from his throat, but didn't make it past his lips, his body not capable of the sound even as he threw himself with reckless abandon at the black enemy he had thrown, just like it had thrown him, into a now broken tree.
The emotions curling through him were vicious and powerful and leaked from him in solid burning form. It was the most dangerous thing about Fire; flames would not stop, never stop once they had been set. This was no different.
Phelesmon saw him coming and was moving, its arm jerked sharply and something red flashed in Agnimon's sight, but the only thing that mattered to Agnimon was his fire-bleeding fist hit the target and dug into a blackish shoulder. It dug in deep, crushing bones and ripping flesh and a wailing screech of pain ripped from his adversity.
Not a second later Agnimon's stomach convulsed and liquid bubbled up his throat, breaking past his lips and flying through the air. Stray drops landed all over Phelesmon, painting its black skin slick with blood. With Agnimon's blood.
Only then did Agnimon notice the pain ripping into his body.
Blood and acid on his lips, Agnimon spat it out even as he quickly moved for distance.
That proved to be a mistake, when the agony multiplied tenfold and pushed past his anger into overwhelming him. With a slick sound, Phelesmon's trident dislodge from his body. Blood splattered on green grass. Agnimon staggered, breath coming in flat puffs. Whip to trident. Trident to Whip. Stupid. To forget that.
Agnimon had a hole in his side, but Phelesmon had a hole in his shoulder; a hole that was still burning.
A wry smirk tugged at his lips despite the black dots invading his vision. "Don't look so good," Agnimon taunted breathlessly. "Who is going...to turn into a stepping...stone for who...?"
Phelesmon pain and rage twisted expression twisted further into a barely recognizable grimace. "Scum!" It spat, voice pitched too high to convey all the loathing it felt. It seemed to be in a lot of pain. Agnimon had heard that burn wounds were among the most painful there were.
Trident to whip. Agnimon leaned to the side, avoiding the lash, but his body gave out and the tumbled, pushing with his hands against the ground to get back up right. More blood splattered on the ground. Agnimon's.
Agnimon's blood. Victory.
Sensing another attack incoming, he let himself fall. Gravity's pull was rough but enough and lying flat on his stomach, unable move more and with Phelesmon still standing and attacking Agnimon felt time slow. Almost sluggishly he saw Phelsemon raise its right arm even as its left counterpart was immobile and burning to ash, only just still staying attached to the body. Agnimon brought up his own hands in front of him, struggling to even twitch a finger, but looking up in the black face fire's managed to spark through his gauntlets and Agnimon's fire of emotions burned with hate. "Fire Darts," he breathed viciously and with a flicks of his wrists sparks, small and weak, flew at Phelesmon.
The fool did not dodge. Or maybe couldn't dodge.
Agnimon had heard that burning alive was one of the most painful deaths there were.
He saw his little flames make contact, saw how some died in midair, being too weak, saw how some didn't have the energy to to burn the skin they touched, saw how some came in contact with the blood Agnimon had spit all over Phelesmon. Saw how the liquid caught fire, exploding almost. Saw how fueled by his blood the flames got stronger, more aggressive, eating into the flesh. He saw how Phelesmon's dark face paled first in realization then in more and more panic until the digimon struggled with all its might. Saw how it was all in vain.
Then the screaming started.
High pitched, panicky, riddled with bits of words and pleas of help, until even that all faded away into sounds of agony.
Agnimon would not know how painful it was to burn to death.
So he had no pity, no sympathy, would not even aid in a fast death if he could.
It went beyond Agnimon's imagination, the pain of heat and flames. He could not see how even the littlest of orange flames could hurt. To die from contact with it was, in the depth of his mind , absurd. He would not even believe it possible would he not so frequently kill with it.
Agnimon could not understand the pain involved in burning to death. He viewed it with detached understanding even now, even as his own body underwent an unpleasant change from Agnimon to a weaker being.
By the time Phelesmon had stopped struggling and the air was stinking of burned flesh it was Flamon who lay wounded and unmoving on the ground. It was Flamon who raised a tired, brown hand to collect and clean the data streaming up from the body. It were Flamon's flames that purified it and set the data back to zero.
It was Flamon who whirled around when a cold voice spoke.
"That is nice. Incompetents need to be disposed of after all."
Pinocchimon stood between the trees, half hidden by shadows but visible enough to see the wicked smile of delight on his face.
Flamon had forgotten him. Or rather, he had assumed Pinocchimon had retreated or caught fire. He had dismissed Pinocchimon's presence in any case. Another mistake on his part.
Flamon eyed Pinocchimon wearily. There were very few things that Pinocchimon, high evolution it might be could do to Flamon, no matter how weakened he was. With an entire body made up of wood, Pinocchimon was in mortal danger just being near the Spirit of Fire.
He didn't let his guard down, having had enough wrong assumptions -like Pinocchimon being controlled- and mistakes today, and took a careful step back. The one little step was difficult; his body was too heavy, too weary and even his mind was feeling numb, exhausted.
Pinocchimon's eyes were unnervingly sharp and his gaze skewed, not missing a single move. He grinned. Then he grinned wider and finally he laughed, the cackles mixing with the rushing of leaves and resounding eerily.
And the black eyes never left Flamon -else he would have long since ran; who was stupid enough to fight if he didn't have to?
"I'm taking you with me," Pinnochimon stated finally, once he had stopped laughing and the confidence in that statement was only one more thing that was hair-rising about him. The wood digimon let a hand disappear inside his robes, smiling cheerily.
Flamon once more, pressing down on the -now only; devolving had its uses- deep and bleeding gash in his side, stomped down on the instinct to run. He was here as a decoy. Had to do that job well. Once, just once, his eyes flickered in the direction of the others; Piyomon and Sora. He doubted he had the energy to make it further than a few damn steps anyway.
Quickly his eyes settled on Pinocchimon again, watching with growing apprehension and heavy mind as he pulled out a small bottle. It was see-through and crystalline, glittering in with specks of light in a direct contrast to the darkness contained within it.
Flamon shuddered, Pinocchimon's grin widened.
"Remember this?" He asked, so incredibly happy as if Christmas had come early. "That stupid clown"-Phelesmon-"almost got you with it once."
Flamon remembered, or maybe he didn't but, he didn't need to either, because as Pinocchimon turned the bottle on head and let the liquid drift out, he knew all he needed to know about it. In rapid succession thoughts crossed his mind. The first was: That's dangerous. The second, much more intent was: I can't touch that. The third, the final though was: Or I'm definitely finished.
"And don't worry about your friends," the other digimon beamed, "I'm sure digimon I sent killed them already."
This is the chapter for November. Please tell me if you liked it.
The poll gave the result of monthly updates (much to my surprise), so I'll stay with my current schedule.
TBC.