Dorian scowled out at the idyllic scenery, suspicion written in every sharp edge of his form. They'd wandered away from the field where all three had first regained consciousness, had some encounters, learned some stuff, nothing any more groundbreaking than waking up in a parallel, digital universe in the first place. Still, the new information was as substantial as it was unfathomable, and Dorian did not enjoy feeling unsure or confused. That made him feel vulnerable. So when the group had stumbled across what could only be a Bed and Breakfast on the French Riviera, he'd instantly jumped onto the opportunity to pull over and suggest they spend at least a little time recouping in the most hospitable environment to date.

For Gomamon and Ysault, that meant playtime. She'd found a chest of bathing suits and the two were taking full advantage of the clear blue water. Bahar, Floramon, and Huckmon, though generally up for fun, lacked the affinity for being submerged necessary for swimming. So they settled for out-of-the-water play, busying themselves with sand castles and moats. Dorian preferred to be a stick in the mud if at all possible and thus remained fully clothed on the shore. He had settled on a blanket, arms propped on his splayed knees, the most subtle of slouches folding his back. He was busy trying to catalogue everything in his head, trying to form it into a single, cohesive narrative from which he could derive their next inevitable step. Which meant no swimming. Or fun. Ever.

Sighing, Dorian palmed his forehead and rubbed his eyes, regaining focus. Lists. What did they know?

1) This world and everything in it was composed of the internet/ computer storage data the same way an organic universe is made up of proteins, lipids, carbohydrates, and the like.

2) The entities in this world were sentient and intelligent, though, as is true in humans, there were varying levels.

3) There existed one entity which was malevolent, capable of stripping these Digimon of that sentience, making once peaceful creatures hostile, and trapping entire areas in perpetual night.

4) Precisely what this entity was, what it ultimately wanted, the extent of its abilities, and how it came to be were still unclear. But it had something to do with a group of humans that had come to this world millennia ago and a Legendary Warrior of Darkness.

Another sigh escaped Dorian's chest and he rolled his head around, stretching his neck in frustration. It wasn't much to go on. The whole thing was intimately tied to the process by which they themselves had arrived in the Digital World, why they'd been selected, and the cycle this universe had apparently engaged in since its conception. A process he had yet to fully grasp. Gomamon had tried her very best, on several occasions, to explain the Digital World's history, and yet he just couldn't get it… on a comprehension level. On the surface it was simple enough: Live, corrupt, save, repeat. Every time a force of evil manifested, a group of human children representing some set of virtues were called in and partnered with Digimon for the purpose of purging the corruption. Live, corrupt, save, repeat.

In their merry band he was supposed to embody Loyalty, Bahar Justice, and Ysault Charity. Though Ysault's unending kindness and compassion certainly befitted a paragon of charity, Dorian had yet to work out how Bahar's continuous judgment or his hard head qualified them for such positions. Which was probably why Floramon had been able to "Digivolve" into the more powerful Kiwimon in times of crisis while Gomamon and Huckmon remained bound in their current forms. Ysault, for all her softness, had already proven to be the strongest of the three.

His eyes and mind wandered for a moment, gliding to the water and out to where she was splashing Gomanon. Her pale skin glittered in the sunlight, her laughter like distant wind chimes as she tossed her braid over one shoulder. It sent diamonds into the air. Dorian allowed his yearning to resurface, just for a moment. She was so beautiful, both in flesh and soul, admirable in every way he could imagine. Maybe when they returned to the human world…

If they returned to the human world. The thought came into his mind like a storm cloud, souring his dreams and snapping his brain back into focus. In order to leave the Digital World they needed to fix it. That was their duty as Digidestined and as moral human beings given purpose. But at the rate they were going that was never going to happen. He had a list of four things he understood to pertain to their goal and he didn't know how they connected. How one of these previous Digidestined groups could've caused so much damage. Hell, he didn't even understand how this Warrior of Darkness fit in. Was it some entity they created or one they didn't quite destroy? The enemy of these previous Digidestined or their ally?

He doubted the latter, yet something Floramon had said made him wonder. They'd discovered what little they knew of the other Digidestined in a… historical area was probably the best descriptor. It was a circle of stone pillars, each primitively carved with a single scene. Some were disfigured beyond salvage and others lacked context, but generally they were legible. A group of five humans, each with an elemental symbol above their head like a ghost or spirit. Fire, Light, Wind, Thunder, and Ice. A monstrous bat-angel hybrid sleeping in the center of the world. An epic battle. A sixth human, apart from the others, with the symbol for Darkness above him like the rest, but also inverted beneath him. And finally, perhaps most tellingly for their current circumstance, the inverted symbol of Darkness, alone, encased as if inside an egg. Floramon had said the whole thing kind of reminded her of a story she'd once heard in the Village of Beginnings.

It was some terribly clichéd plot, yet it hung in Dorian's thoughts like something relevant. Light and Darkness were estranged brothers living apart without understanding their connected natures. In the absence of the other, Light grew cold and jaded, admired by all yet loved by none, and Darkness became jealous of the attention Light received. He was consumed by pain and forgot himself, attacking his brother and dragging the entire world into a perpetual night that Light could not overcome by force. The two battled bitterly without understanding the why of their own conflict, until finally Light remembered they had been brothers before they were enemies. He called out to Darkness, seeking peace once more, but Darkness was too far-gone to stop himself. Darkness begged Light to end it and bring back the day forever, but the battles had taught Light wisdom and he now understood that, without his brother, he himself was incomplete. So Light stripped the corruption from Darkness's heart and together they sealed it away where it would never taint anyone again.

"Hey." He started at the sudden voice, extracting himself from his own thoughts and squinting up into the sun. Bahar gave him a smirk, a little pleased with herself for surprising him.

"Oh god, not you," he teased as she sat down next to him on the blanket. "Now I'm going to have to burn this."

"I was gonna burn it anyway," she shot back, black gaze cast out at the waves. "It's been contaminated by your dumb ass."

He chuckled, reaching across his chest to rub his shoulder. She grinned, splaying her knees and mimicking his sprawl with a significantly more pronounced slouch and no concern for the fact that she was in a two-piece bathing suit. The dark skin around her stomach folded as the taught muscles in her back visibly stretched, a tribute to her well concealed but always present tension. Even now, relaxed as she appeared, Dorian knew Bahar well enough now to recognize her readiness for the unexpected. She was completely prepared for an evil Digimon to burst up from the ocean depths, and the thought made him smile.

"Maybe Ysault can salvage it," he offered with a sigh. "Really, we shouldn't be burning anything, especially not a blanket that could come in handy later."

"I disagree. Only pansy's like you need blankets in this climate. Seriously, you are the most sensitive guy I've ever met. Prince and the Pea."

"If I don't get my sleep, then my mind isn't at its peak performance, and then we would never have any idea what to do."

"Oh yeah, that's right. I forgot about you're all-powerful plans and how we'd be lost without them."

"Indeed."

They sat in silence for a minute, watching the waves out on the water, Huckmon and Floramon ineptly patting the wet sand into a castle, Ysault and Gomamon splashing each other. The laughter of their friends echoed around them like a memory, in the moment yet also somehow distant. Ysault couldn't understand why they were like that, always planning, always waiting for things to go wrong, just as they were both bewildered by and cherished her capacity for optimism. Her inexhaustible light in the oppressive darkness which hunted the three relentlessly. Thank god for Ysault and the unity she brought them. Because without it their merry band would've dissolved minutes after it formed. They both knew it. Absently, Bahar began picking at her chin, her nails working at a spot until it started to bleed a little.

"That's disgusting," Dorian groaned, shooting her a scolding, sideways look. Bahar snorted, rolling her eyes.

"You've mentioned."

"It's going to scar."

"And then my face will be ruined and I'll never be able to find a man and bear his children! You're absolutely right! I'll start reforming immediately."

"That's not what I-"

"That's exactly what you meant you sexist. But it's okay; I know I'm probably the first to call you out on it and it's novel to you that a person might not care about your opinion on her appearance."

"I was just commenting on a bad habit."

"You were criticizing."

"My mistake. It won't happen again."

"Damn straight." More silence where neither looked at the other. "And I'll try to be a little less defensive if it does."

"Much obliged."

"So… what were you thinking about? Before I distracted you with my disgusting habits."

"How badly I miss not having everything I say taken as an attack."

"I'm being serious." Bahar crossed her legs and leaned back, pressing her palms into the ground to support herself. Out of the corner of his eye, Dorian could see her staring at him, her eyes like piercing tunnels of night, shining in the sun. He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth, annoyed that she'd asked before he could concentrate his opinions into a flat statement. But that was Bahar: always keeping him on his toes.

"I was considering our enemy," he said cryptically.

"Mmm," she sighed with a knowing nod. "La tache."

"La tache? Is that what we're calling it now?"

"Gotta call it something, right?"

"True. And Tache is oddly appropriate, given what we know about it."

"I'll assume you're referring to its ability to body-hop and bring out the homicide in anything, in which case you meant to say "all" we know about it."

"Yes, given all we know about it. Regardless, I was considering a connection between it and that story Floramon told us."

"That adorable little anecdote about the Brothers of Light and Dark? It's a bed-time tale Digimon tell their babies to teach them about the importance of family or some shit."

"Perhaps, but have you noticed anything interesting about Digimon family dynamics? Namely that they don't seem to have brothers in the same sense that you or I would."

"What's your point?"

"I think the story may actually be an account of the previous Digidestined, or at least the ones depicted in that set of stone art."

"Suppose you're right," Bahar conjectured, biting her lip and furrowing her brow in thought. "We could guess that the "Brother of Light" was one of the original five Digidestined, and that sixth one was the "Brother of Dark." That would make the sixth Digidestined the enemy of the other five."

"Maybe initially," Dorian added, straightening and turning to face her as he became increasingly engaged. "But remember, the Brothers stripped away Darkness's pain and lived happily ever after. I think that angel-bat thing was probably their true enemy. This sibling rivalry thing must've happened on the side."

"Why would two brother's come to the Digital World to duke it out," she pressed, frustrated. "And why would history remember a side note better than the original story? Why memorialize the angel-bat thing on some forgotten rock but keep a legend about sibling rivalry fresh for generations?" Dorian raised his eyebrows and smiled at her, his blue eyes glittering like ice. "Unless… but that's ridiculous!"

"Think about it, Bahar. The story says they imprisoned Darkness's corruption; there's nothing about destroying it. If this corruption was somehow able to influence the Digital World or actually return, then some sort of warning or context would be necessary."

"That would help explain it's abnormal behavior," Bahar conceded with another nod. "And why the Digimon seem completely unable to handle or understand it; it's not another Digimon at all. We need to find out more about these other Digidestined, especially that Warrior of Darkness. If Tache is his inner demon, we need to know what circumstances led to its creation and how the two were separated. How it was imprisoned and how the hell it got out."

"My thoughts exactly." They grinned at each other for a moment, pleased with their brainstorm. It wasn't effortless, but really, all things considered, they made a good team. Good enough to give whatever evil force they'd been called upon to defeat pause, at any rate.

"Hey Ysault!" Gomamon's voice sliced the moment as her head broke the water's glassy surface. She brought with her a ball of seaweed and a mischievous grin. "Look what I found!"

She held the ball between her flipper-like hands, her entire being radiating self-satisfaction. Tossing it up into the air with some questionable physics, she hit it like a volleyball towards Ysault. Gomamon's aim was pretty good, Ysault's, less so. All Dorian saw was a spinning mob of green and black growing at an alarming rate before the cold, wet impact knocked him back. Pain exploded in his face, radiating out from his nose as his vision and hearing grew momentarily spotty. He felt more wet on his face, warm this time, dripping, then someone holding something soft but a little rough to the wet, pressing him into it and tilting his head forward. Then everything cleared up and he knew what had happened.

"Oh my Dorian I am so, so sorry! Are you alright?! No, of course you're not alright, you're bleeding. Are you concussed? Do you feel nauseous at all?"

"I'm fine Ysault," Dorian mumbled in a comforting tone, brushing Bahar off and taking command of his own limbs. "It's just a nose bleed, nothing serious. No need to fuss. Look, it's stopping already." He drew away whatever cloth had been shoved in his face to demonstrate the point, wiping at his nostrils with his free hand and giving her a smile. Ysault's brown eyes, already sizeable by nature, were wide and unnerved, her alabaster face all wrinkled up in concern. There was a softness around her middle that made itself obvious as she squatted before him, wringing her hands. Dorian couldn't keep the smile from his lips as he looked at her, forgetting his pain.

"At least there are some lessons to take away from this," Gomamon's high, nasal voice chimed in as she wiggled herself to Dorian's side, giving his hip a bump.

"And what, pray tell, is that," Dorian asked with an amused sigh, diverting his attention to his partner.

"Ysault should never be trusted with projectiles," she stated simply, blinking huge, sea green eyes. "And you need to hydrate more. You wouldn't have clotted so fast if you were well hydrated."

"Maybe I just have thick blood," Dorian started lightly. But then his gaze fell on the cloth Bahar had used to stem his bleeding and his expression darkened. "Damn."

"What," asked Ysault, fresh worry in her voice. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Dorian insisted, standing up and rubbing his fingers against his palm like it would clean them a little.

"Oh come on," Bahar shot as she and Ysault rose with him. "Spill it. I'd rather hear about it now than in three weeks during some stupid fight."

"Your confidence in me is inspiring," Dorian bit, tossing her a frosty look.

"Dorian please," implored Ysault. "Tell us what's bothering you?"

"Seriously, it's nothing," he insisted. "It's just… I liked this scarf…" By now Huckmon and Floramon had joined them and all six sets of eyes settled on the once creamy white scarf hanging around Doran's neck. Or, more specifically, on the bright red oblong now staining it.

"You're upset about the blood stain on your unnecessary article of clothing." It was impossible to tell if Huckmon was being condescending or genuinely trying to rephrase the source of Dorian's aggravation.

"That's a perfectly valid reason to be upset," Floramon interjected, sounding indignant on Dorian's behalf. "How would you feel if I got your armor all covered with pollen?"

"Really, it's not a big deal," insisted Dorian, raising his hands defensively and forcing a smile. "Huckmon's right; I don't absolutely need a scarf. And this one was bound to stain eventually."

"That's exactly why I will never understand the compulsion to ware white."

"This is ivory, Bahar."

"Same thing."

"Bahar," Ysault's voice rose above their bickering, bringing all attention to her. She was chewing her lower lip, her eyes scrunched up in thought. "Did you see any peroxides in the bathroom?"

"Maybe," Bahar said thoughtfully, looking bemused. Then realization dawned on her and she grinned, pointing at Ysault. "Yeah, I saw some in the changing room below the sink."

"Why were you looking under the sink?"

"It's good to know what's available. For times like this."

"Just what sort of a time is this?" Dorian was going to continue the skirmish, but then he felt Ysault's cool, wet, slender fingers slide across his palm and he found his heart was beating much too fast to care what Bahar meant. Ysault grabbed his hand gently, smiling her soft, quiet smile as she led him back to the bathrooms, the Digimon and Bahar trailing in a curious precession. The peroxides were easy to find in their characteristic brown bottle and, though he couldn't explain what human toiletries were doing in the Digital World, Dorian was relieved by their presence. He was just strategizing how best to take this and any other medically relevant materials they found along when Ysault pulled the scarf from his neck and poured peroxide over the satin.

"Hey," he protested, not really wanting to add mildew to his list of problems.

"It's alright," she insisted, still smiling. "Look." The peroxides were reacting violently, fizzing and bubbling into a red-white foam on his scarf. She washed the foam away with cold water and, to Dorian's pleasant surprise, the blood came away with it.

"How do you know about this," he asked incredulously, staring at the stain in fascination.

"Oh, women know these sorts of things," Ysault laughed cryptically.

"Women know how to remove blood stains?"

"Period blood, you idiot."

"Bahar," Ysault chastised, pouring more peroxide and flushing in embarrassment.

"What? If the natural processes of our bodies make Sir Dorian here uncomfortable, then that's just too damn bad. He's gonna have to deal with it eventually, might as well clue him in now."

"I know what a period is."

"Dorian!" The three shared looks of varying amusement, shaking their heads and laughing. Dorian's scarf hissed in Ysault's hands, a white field blotched with red.