[Copy / paste disclaimer here. And I corrected Silphymon's attack name from the American one to Japanese.]
Backstep 07
The Realizing of Memories - Holy Point Revisited
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Location - Takaishi residence, Odaiba, Tokyo, Japan
Time - seven hours before Digital Conundrum
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"Haha, tada ima!" Takeru called out in Japanese as he entered the dark apartment, slipping off his shoes. "I'm home, Mother!" He placed his shoes by his mother's, soon noticing two other pairs on the opposite side of the entryway. They looked familiar. Taking in the long-forgotten scent of home, Takeru walked towards the living room, gingerly holding a sleeping Patamon against his chest.
"Takeru? Is that you?" a voice called.
Takeru's ears perked up. Quickly he ran into the room. The sight before him brought a tear to his eyes.
Ms. Takaishi, Yamato, and Mr. Ishida were seated upon the couch, staring off into infinity. They didn't look up to see the boy enter on tiptoe into the room. Their heads were cradled in their hands, their faces expressionless.
"Yamato? Mother? Dad?" Takeru ventured, staying by the living room entrance. "Sorry I got back late." He bowed slightly, abruptly going upright as he noticed Patamon moaning.
Takeru's mother raised her head and rose from the couch. "Thank God you came home, Takeru," she smiled, running to her son's side. She brought her arms about Takeru and pulled him close.
"Please, Mom, not so hard," Takeru protested, trying not to call attention to Patamon. Momentarily he felt his mother's arms release their hold.
"Where were you?" Takeru's father asked in an unusually relieved voice.
"Oh ... I was in Chiba with Hikari," Takeru said solemnly, looking over at Yamato. The knowing glint in his older brother's eyes told Takeru that he wanted to speak to him. "We were getting research for the class project we were doing with Daisuke."
"You should've told us," Takeru's mother sighed. "Now come on and get to bed."
Takeru nodded. "Okay."
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Location - Parker's quarters, NNL
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Buck returned to Parker's cramped quarters in the NNL complex with a gauze bandage taped to his forehead. He plopped himself on Parker's bed, not noticing the two digimon that lay exhausted by his feet.
"Frank's taking a shower," Tentomon buzzed, obviously bored. "And we can't get to the Digital World until it's a decent time in Japan."
"Which is about six hours from now," Elecmon groaned. "Stupid time difference."
"At least I have the time to take a shower, get dressed, and hope that Olga gets these dumb stitches out," Buck sighed. "Wake me when Frank's out."
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Location - Takeru's bedroom, Takaishi residence, Odaiba, Tokyo, Japan
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It was that dream again.
The same dream that plagued Takeru for three years....
He was at the base of Infinity Mountain, staring upwards into the crimson maw of Devimon's eyes. Patamon was hovering by Takeru's head, his ears disturbing the air to keep himself aloft. Long ago Takeru had heard the moans of digimon and Chosen Children in the area about him - this time there was only silence.
"Legend said that the one with the digimon that was the last to evolve will be the one to destroy me," Devimon growled, his gargantuan, clawed hand reaching towards Takeru. "Death Claw!"
In the past Takeru had ducked in the presence of the massive hand. Even though it had been three years, he still followed standard earthquake preparedness drill procedure - hands tucked over his head, crouching close to the ground. He could feel the wind against his neck as Patamon fired his special attack.
"Air Shot! Air Shot!"
It was futile, Takeru knew from experience. He could feel the dullness of darkness as Devimon's hand swept over him, snatching Patamon in the air. Then that horrible squeezing sound, like squeaking rubber, filled Takeru's ears. What was Devimon trying to prove - that he could destroy an innocent digimon with his bare hands? It wouldn't be the first time.
Takeru's vision was blanked in white moments later. He stood up, finding Devimon's hands empty ... and a brilliant angel hovering overhead.
Angemon.
"What is this?" Devimon growled in dismay, using rather impolite Japanese terms. "Who are you?"
"I am the one destined to defeat you," Angemon lowed in the Guardian's voice.
Takeru shook his head in disbelief. He didn't remember this exchange occurring in the dream, or even when it actually happened! He recalled words of hope, the lights from the digivices, a blast of golden light ... and then Angemon's reconfiguration.... But not the Guardian - he may have heard his voice before, but not those words!
"Damn it, tell me who you are!" Devimon roared, his voice breaking loose some boulders from the summit of Infinity Mountain. "What is your name?"
A white aura formed around Angemon's body, shielding him from view. "I am the Guardian of the Trumpet of Hope," the digimon whispered. "The one destined to defeat you."
"If you were the one to defeat me," Devimon laughed, "you should have arrived sooner. The island is already shrouded with darkness, and there's nothing you can do about it in your puny digimon form!" He extended one of his monstrous hands and swept it out towards the angel. "Death Claw!"
Angemon did not move to dodge the assault. The dark hand slammed into the angel's side with a sickening crack, followed by a crunch as Angemon's body crashed limply into the mountainside, dissipating the aura about him. The digimon fell to the ground by Takeru's side, convulsing sporadically.
"Not here," Angemon gasped in the Guardian's voice, bringing himself to a kneeling position with his staff. "The battle can not be fought here."
"What do you mean?" Takeru asked blankly, turning to face his partner. "There's nobody here."
Angemon's body again glowed with brightness, as did the landscape of Infinity Mountain. Takeru raised his arms and shielded his eyes, the light was so blinding. Only when he felt the brightness fade away from him did he lower his hands.
Shock ran through the boy's body. This was not where he was last, the base of Infinity Mountain. The terrain was too ... flat. The only mountains were seemingly miles away all around him, tinted crimson by a blood red sun. There was no vegetation, save for a single skeleton of a tree devoid of foliage. Rust-colored dust blew across the plain, stinging Takeru's eyes.
Momentarily the dust settled, and a form in white took shape. It was another angel, dressed in robes of white. Golden hair seemed to poke from behind an ivory miter that shielded his face from view. A naked sword, gleaming silver in the red light, was held in his gloved hands. He stopped before Takeru and held the sword to his side.
"I am the Guardian," the angel stated, not seeming to take a glance at Takeru.
"Where are we?" Takeru stammered. "And where's Devimon?"
"This is the plain of Har-megiddon," the Guardian stated plainly; "and the beast you speak of is behind you. Behold."
Takeru spun on his heels, surprise in his eyes. Devimon was standing there, a sinister smile playing on his lips. He looked smaller than he did at Infinity Mountain.
"What are you going to do?" Takeru asked, turning to look into the Guardian's shielded face.
"Stand back, Takeru," the Guardian warned. "I'll make him come."
Warily Takeru backed away from the angel - there was no choice but to obey. The Guardian took the sword in his hands and brought it in a circle before him. A golden light was emitted from the sword's path, sucking in the crimson dust of the plain. Devimon, as well, was being drawn to the light, vanishing as the dust that had come before.
"You will pay for what you have done!" Devimon cursed as he was sucked into the golden maw. He futilely extended his hands towards the Guardian. "Death Claw!"
One of Devimon's claws sank into the Guardian's neck, expelling a gush of ivory blood. With a laugh only the insane would perform the dark digimon sank into the hole.
And then the wind stopped.
The Guardian, with a cry that would be a nine on the Richter scale, fell to the ground, a hand against his wound. Takeru, hesitant, inched towards the Guardian, yet the angel's sharp words brought him still.
"You will be the only one who remembers what has occurred here on the plain of Har-megiddon," the Guardian gasped. "This memory will be shielded until the due time. But remember this, Takeru - greater blood has been shed on this battlefield before, and even greater toll will befall the next who battle on the plain during the seven-year darkness...."
And in a flash of white light, the Guardian vanished, leaving nothing but a lone feather in his wake.
Takeru sat up, panting as the first rays of daylight crept through his window. He looked down at his side - Patamon was sleeping, a telltale snot bubble expanding and contracting with every snore. The digimon seemed more relaxed than he was just hours before.
Quietly Takeru took the alarm clock from his nightstand and glanced at it. Six o'clock already. Almost an hour before the computer room would be opened for summer school classes.
Well, at least Patamon's okay now, Takeru thought with a sigh.
Yet for some strange reason his nightmare did not easily vanish.
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Location - Parker's quarters, NNL
Time - two hours before Digital Conundrum
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Parker was sitting before his computer checking his e-mail when Buck emerged from the shower. The reporter hastily pulled on a fresh shirt and pants before taking a seat by his friend. The digimon, as they were hours before, were sleeping on Parker's bed.
"Anything new, Frank?" Buck asked, catching a glimpse of the e-mail screen. There weren't many messages indicated upon it - must be something that comes with being a government agent, Buck mused. Journalists - especially Pulitzer Prize-winning ones like he - were swamped with e-mail day in and out.
"Well, Talmadge went to the Middle East with the President earlier today to prevent the crash that was to happen later this evening," Parker stated, knowing that Buck wouldn't understand. "He's on his way back right now. And Owsley forwarded a message to all senior staff that he downloaded the latest version of QuickTime."
"Anything good about that?"
"Well, it does mean that Owsley can watch and contact us while we try to save the world tonight - along with a whole lot of other nerds like him."
"Great," Buck moaned. "Just what we needed - the rest of the world learning about the Digital World."
"Hey, nobody believed that it was real in the previous timeline," Parker laughed. He clicked on a few e-mails that he already read and deleted them. Only one was left on the screen.
"Hmm," Parker mused. "Wonder who the heck Tsion Ben-Judah is," he muttered as he clicked on the remaining icon. A rather brief message flashed onto the screen.
"Greetings, Frank and Cameron!" Buck read off the screen. He turned towards Parker, a quizzical expression furrowed in his forehead. "How did this guy know our given names?"
Parker only shrugged indifferently.
"Okay," Buck scoffed. "Let's see ... 'Things here in Jerusalem are going fine, ever since that treaty was signed last year. I know it's been sixteen years since I last saw you two - I'm sure that things are different in America now. Currently I'm studying the Messiah prophesies with other rabbis, hoping to find at least something in common with any living man. Yet something has bugged me for the past few days, like you two were in trouble with an old foe of ours. Well, here's a little verse I decided to send for inspiration - you two might remember it.'" He turned to look at Parker. "You wouldn't mind if I kept on reading, Frank?"
"No," Parker muttered. "Go on."
Buck exhaled quickly before he turned back to the screen. "'Saint Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle'-"
"Hey, I remember this!" Parker interrupted, scooting closer to the computer screen. Momentarily he nodded and leaned back in his chair. "The nuns back at the orphanage used to say this verse."
"That's strange," Buck mused blankly. "The only time I've heard anything that started like that was sixteen years ago. How long were you in that orphanage, Frank?"
"Oh, maybe until I was old enough to join the military." Parker stood up. "Why?"
"Don't you find it somewhat coincidental," Buck said, "that some man that claims that he knew us sixteen years ago would send us something we haven't heard since then?"
"It's not just coincidence," Parker sighed. "It's suspicious. According to the header, this e-mail was sent not but an hour ago."
"So?"
"I think this Tsion has some connection in the Digital Conundrum," Parker whispered. He deleted the e-mail and closed down a few more windows. "Just great - less than two hours before the world's screwed. Should we go to the Digital World now?"
Buck nodded. "Sounds like a good time. Hey, Elecmon, Tentomon," he called out to the digimon, "wake up! We're going!"
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Location - Holy Point, Digital World
Time - one hour before Digital Conundrum
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Daisuke, Ken, Miyako, Hikari, and their digimon were keeping watch at the Holy Stone late in the Digital World evening. The spire that was the fourth Holy Stone shone with an aquamarine aura, the only light in the area other than the stars, the moon, and the glow of the D3s.
"I wonder where Takeru and Iori are," Hikari muttered, glancing warily at the cliff-side road that led away from the spire. "They said they'd be here."
"I'm just hoping that those two American overgrown Chosen Children get here," Daisuke groaned, plopping to the ground exhausted. "Where are Frank and Buck, anyway?"
"You know Frank and Buck?" Hikari asked skeptically.
"Yeah, of course," Daisuke boasted. "They stopped an argument over-"
"Let's not get into that," Miyako laughed, slapping Daisuke squarely on the cheek. She turned to Hikari. "But how did you meet them? You said that you were in the World of Darkness for months with Takeru."
"Well, they just ... came to our rescue," Hikari managed at last - and in more ways than one, she added mentally.
"At least something's consistent," Daisuke scoffed. "Hikari, did you ever notice something strange about Buck?"
This time the girl could only burst into giggles. "What do you mean? Buck's just a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist! There's nothing strange about that."
Daisuke blushed, the deep red even visible in the darkness. "Well, that's strange enough for me!" he blurted suddenly.
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Location - somewhere else near the Holy Point, Digital World
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Takeru and Iori were padding away from the television that would send them back home when they heard the clacking of claws on brittle rock. Slowly the boys and their digimon turned back, finding only a yellowish reptile with a fur pelt draped over his body.
"Gabumon?" Takeru said quizzically, tilting his head at an odd angle. "What're you doing here?"
"Oh, I'm just came here to tell you something," the reptile breathed. "Agumon had a chat with Black War Greymon - and he says that he has a soul!"
"A soul?" Takeru scoffed. "You've got to be kidding."
"But Agumon insists that it's true," Gabumon continued. "No object would ask the soul-searching questions he did."
"Gabumon, characters in computer games ask the same sort of questions because they're programmed to," Takeru sighed at last. "Why don't you go back and tell us if Black War Greymon's coming."
Gabumon sighed reluctantly. "All right, Takeru."
The digimon vanished into the shadows, right when a burst of white light was emitted from the television screen. Four shadows appeared: Frank, Buck, and their digimon.
Frank muttered something in English, which the boys didn't catch.
"I think they're speaking English," Iori said blankly. "Who are they, anyway?"
"They're Frank Parker and Buck Williams," Takeru sighed. "They're Americans - though the last time I spoke to them, they were speaking in Japanese." He looked down at Patamon, who was still sleeping in his arms. "It must be like Frank said - the gift of tongues," he muttered.
"What was that?"
Takeru shook his head. "Oh, nothing." He motioned for Frank and Buck to follow. "Now come on - we have to meet Daisuke and the others at the Holy Point."
Parker and Buck saw the slight gesture of Takeru's hand, an invitation to follow. They carefully traversed a ramshackle wood-plank bridge to catch up with the Japanese boys. Takeru and Iori were heatedly arguing over something, or so the men assumed.
"I wish I actually knew Japanese," Buck sighed under Elecmon's weight on his shoulders.
"And I thought journalists were supposed to know at least one foreign language," Parker laughed.
"I do, Frank. It's called Latin."
"As if anybody speaks Latin these days," Parker chuckled. "I had to learn it because the nuns spoke their prayers in that language - not that they do that anymore."
"I learned it for the same reason," Buck laughed. He looked forward at the children that led the way through the winding canyon. "Don't you find it kind of strange?"
"What?"
"We have so much in common. We both have digimon, supposedly we knew each other sixteen years ago, and we also know Latin." He brought a finger to his chin. "Oh, yeah - the Guardian and that Ben guy from Israel claimed that they knew the two of us sixteen years ago-"
"And Ben e-mailed us that verse that we both haven't seen in sixteen years," Parker finished. "You're right - it does sound kind of strange. You sure it isn't coincidental?"
"I'd doubt it," Tentomon buzzed. "If you and Buck were Chosen sixteen years ago, there must've been a reason."
"But what would that be?" Buck and Frank asked in unison.
"Well, usually it has something to do with saving the Digital World," Elecmon grumbled. "These younger children have never encountered the Guardian before - maybe somebody needed some Chosen Children that had known him."
"But weren't there others?" Buck queried. "Frank and I can't be the only ones."
"Come to think of it," Tentomon started, "I think there were three others...."
"Who?"
"Oh, I forget."
Parker and Buck groaned in defeat. "So it's just the two of us?" Parker asked rebelliously.
"Yeah," Tentomon muttered.
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Location - Holy Point, Digital World
Time - two minutes before Digital Conundrum
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Daisuke looked down at the digivice in Ken's hands. Eight red dots were coming down the path along the cliff towards them. "Those must be Frank, Buck, Iori, and Takeru," he stated. "Can't they move any faster?"
"They must be trying to communicate with each other if they're walking this slowly," Ken mused, still looking down at the digivice screen. A dark wave was inching its way towards the spire that was the Holy Stone. "And Black War Greymon's coming closer."
"We should evolve - now," Miyako cried out cheerfully. "Lets try out this jogress evolution thing, Hikari."
For the first time in months, Hikari nodded her head with a smile. "Okay."
The canyon was briefly aglow in the lights of evolution as the digimon metamorphosed and two hearts became one.
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Location - an abandoned apartment building, Los Angeles, California, USA
Time - one minute before Digital Conundrum
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Delores and Nicolae sat glumly before their array of computers, bowls of steaming ramen in their laps. It was sometime late in the Californian afternoon, the rare honking of a car breaking into their apartment.
"Why must people return from work so early?" Nicolae groaned, dipping chopsticks into his ramen. "The sound of the horns hurts my ears."
"Quit your whining," Delores snapped, slapping the Romanian president in the face. "The end of the Chosen Children is drawing near."
"But how?" Nicolae rubbed his head, concealing a flushed handprint on his cheek. "We have tried to destroy the Center, and those oversized Chosen Children saved the Guardian from Dagomon. And we have been unable to hack into NNL, what with all those firewalls and such. What other alternative do we have?"
Delores smiled wickedly behind her purple-tinted sunglasses. "We still have Black War Greymon. As long as he destroys the Holy Stones, the Guardian will grow weaker. And when the last Stone is destroyed-" here she imitated an explosion "- the Guardian will have blown the Trumpet, and all the Chosen Children will be gone." She laughed with fiendish glee in Nicolae's face. "And then the world will be ours!"
In her hysteria Delores stood from her chair, forgetting about the ramen bowl in her lap. It spilled noodles, soup, and chopsticks across the floor and down her dress.
"Blast!" she cursed. "Why does this always happen when I eat ramen?"
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Location - Holy Point, Digital World
Time - start of Digital Conundrum
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Paildramon and Silphymon stood at the base of the Holy Stone, the two digimon at a battle ready. Their eyes stared off at an advancing patch of darkness visible against the tapestry of the stars.
Black War Greymon.
"You two go and get him this time!" Daisuke yelled from the top of the canyon. "You can do it!"
"Yeah!" Miyako cheered. "Defend that Holy Stone!"
The advancing shadow undauntedly continued to march forward. Moonlight glinted off the silver armor that accented his shielded body. A sinister rumble could be felt with each footfall - or was that just laughter?
"What makes you think that you can protect that ancient piece of junk, anyway?" the rumble chuckled. "There's no more reason for them to stand anymore."
"You destroy this Stone," Paildramon yelled, grasping the guns at his sides, "and you'll set this part of the Digital World into flux!" A blue light formed at the muzzle of the guns. "Desperado Blaster!"
Shots of sky-blue light fired out towards the dark dragon; only the ping of metal meeting metal responded. Black War Greymon continued to advance.
"And you think that will stop me?" he replied jokingly. "Try again."
Silphymon brought her clawed hands before her body, gathering a crimson radiance into them. "It's my turn! Dual Sonic!"
A ball of bright red rammed into Black War Greymon's side, briefly illuminating the canyon. Only the glare of the dragon's eyes in the temporary day told the horrifying truth - he was unharmed.
"Nothing's working!" Ken gasped.
"How can this be?" Miyako cried, framing head in her hands. "None of our attacks can harm him!"
"Where are Frank and Buck?" Hikari queried to no-one in particular.
A buzzing of enormous wings came to her response.
"Mega Blaster!"
"Hunting Cannon!"
Two balls of blue, cackling electricity shot out from the other side of the canyon, both striking at Black War Greymon's back. The dragon groaned in slight agony, supporting himself on the ground.
"Where did that come from?" he breathed, his breath short.
Kabuterimon, with Parker and Buck alighted on his head, circled around the canyon to face the dark digimon. "It came from us, you big sissy!" Buck yelled out in English. "It's what you call reinforcements!"
"The Americans," Black War Greymon gasped in Japanese, attempting to stand again. "Darn cocky Yankees."
"Hey, don't diss the men there!" a gruff voice called from the cliff. "Say that again and you'll answer to more than just a wisecrack!"
The children on the cliff, shocked, turned at the path that led to the Stone, where the voice had originated. Standing in the middle of the road was a tall centaur, Takeru and Iori upon its back, flanked by Armadimon and Patamon. The boys leaped off the centaur's back and flashed brief smiles.
"Sorry we're late," Iori said. "We just got word from Gabumon that Black War Greymon has a heart."
"What've I told you, Iori?" Takeru scolded, looking down at the boy. "Creatures made of darkness don't have hearts." He turned back to the other Chosen Children. "We came with Frank and Buck and thought we could help."
"That's good," Daisuke sighed. "Now have your partners evolve and go help!"
Iori turned to Armadimon and nodded his head. "You ready?"
"Absolutely!" came the vigorous reply. "Armadimon, evolve! Ankylomon!"
The armored dinosaur flung himself off the cliff, landing scant feet behind Black War Greymon. He swung back his bony tail, yelling, "Tail Hammer!"
Slight shock ran through the earth as bone met flesh and metal. A red bruise could be seen on the dragon's ebony skin, despite the evening light. Black War Greymon roared in obvious pain, swerving about to stab Ankylomon with his claws.
"You're not touching him!" the centaur bellowed, outreaching his right hand. A strange array emerged from the flesh, gathering electricity in his palm. "Hunting Cannon!"
A ball of white light was released from his hand, striking Black War Greymon in the face. The dark dragon was flung to the far side of the canyon, meeting the wall with a sickening crunch.
"Thanks, Kentarumon," Ankylomon chuckled in English, swerving to face Black War Greymon. Then, in Japanese: "Hey, Patamon, what's taking you?"
Patamon, hovering by Takeru's head, raggedly chanced a glance at his partner. "They need me down there, Takeru," he whimpered, pointing with a stubby leg. "Let me evolve and fight!"
Takeru could only look away from the battle, eyes closed tight. "No, Patamon. I can't. I won't!"
"But why?" Patamon insisted. "Why?"
Takeru angrily turned his head towards Patamon. "Because ... because-"
He couldn't say anymore. It was as if something was clamping down his tongue, oppressing his very train of thought. Because I don't want to lose you again, that was what he had wanted to say. I lost you on Har-megiddon; I lost you in the Dark Ocean; I don't want to lose you now.
And it's because ... you're the Guardian.
"I ... I don't want what happened at the Dark Ocean to happen here," he finally whispered, closing his eyes. "I ... don't want you to get hurt."
Patamon could only grin. "Is that all?" He laughed. "Come on, Takeru - I won't hurt myself."
The strangely reassuring words brought Takeru to cheerful laughter. "Okay. I'll let you fight."
With little more than a playful smile, Patamon glided down the canyon, his body glowing with a golden light. "Patamon, evolve! Angemon!"
Parker and Buck, seated atop Kabuterimon's head, shielded their eyes as the brilliant angel completed its metamorphosis. Presently they brought down their arms, though spots of light danced before their eyes.
Buck took out his D3 and pressed one of the buttons. An analyzer screen appeared, with the angel's picture and a few statistics written in English.
"That thing's an ... Angemon," Buck read, looking up from the D3. "According to the D3, he's a creature of pure goodness, with even the power to defeat monsters at the...." He paused a moment to read the screen again. "Defeat monsters at the Final level? What's that?"
"Hey, I don't know myself," Parker shrugged, looking gloomily at the battlefield below. "Buck, this doesn't look good."
The reporter pocketed his D3 and turned to Parker. "What do you mean, Frank?"
"In the previous timeline," Frank sighed, "when Angemon appeared ... everything got screwed."
"Did he do something wrong?"
Parker shook his head. "No, nothing like that. He transformed into the Guardian ... and then something weakened him tremendously, causing him to blow the Trumpet and make all those kids disappear - not to mention a whole lot more people back home."
"So, what do we do?" Buck asked skeptically, glancing down the canyon below. "Angemon's already appeared - now what?"
"We just have to prevent him from evolving to the Guardian - by protecting him."
Angemon hovered before Black War Greymon, who had by now gotten sturdy on his feet again. The angel held his staff at a ready position, and was toying with it casually.
Black War Greymon cocked his head at Angemon in a strange fashion. He seemed to be calculating something about the strange digimon, weighing him out. Occasionally the dragon would mutter something unintelligible in either Japanese or English. At long last he brought his head straight before his opponent, a rather sinister smile lurking upon his armored face.
"I sense something strange about you," he snarled, advancing a single step towards the angel. "The Holy Stones ... you appear to bear the same power as them - and the legendary Center that they keep in balance." Stealthily he drew up a claw and brought them beneath Angemon's chin. "You ... Angemon ... are you the Guardian ... of the Holy Stones...?"
Even if his answer was a negative, Angemon couldn't bring himself to shake his head. Sweat started to drip from beneath his helm. "No ... Black War Greymon," he whimpered, drawing himself taut. "I am not ... their Guardian."
Hesitantly Black War Greymon brought his claw down to his side. "I know you lie," he hissed, eyes narrowing in anger. "Every angel of this world bears a different message; yours reads 'Chosen of the Supreme Deity to safeguard the seven Stones that hide the Call to the Golden Land'. Have you been blind to that ... Guardian?" he asked disdainfully, pointing to the sash that decorated the angel's body.
Angemon, calm as he was, gave no reply.
Takeru, on the edge of the road upon the canyon's side, bent down his head in thought. "Even as Angemon, he still denies that he's the Guardian," he whispered. "Does he even remember what happened at the Dark Ocean - does he remember Frank and Buck trying to save him?"
Behind him, the other children were muttering amongst themselves. Most of it was talk of the Guardian, and Black War Greymon's peculiar behavior. A galloping crossed his hearing; the centaur - Kentarumon - was rushing down the canyon to Angemon's aid.
"At least someone out there cares for him," he muttered, "other than myself."
"You dare ignore me like this?"
Black War Greymon withdrew his claw again from Angemon and backed into a battle ready. Some of the other digimon - Paildramon, Silphymon, Ankylomon, and Kentarumon - had rushed to the angel's side; Kabuterimon still hovered near the Holy Stone.
"I say this again," Angemon managed firmly, now that the dragon had stepped away. "I am not the Guardian of the Holy Stones. I have no quarrel with you."
One of Black War Greymon's claws started to glow with a gray light, and electricity began to cackle in the air. "Insolent Guardian!" he growled bitterly. "You and those with you will fall! Dramon Killer!"
Swiftly the dragon brought his claw in an arc before him, knocking the digimon blockade towards the Holy Stone. The jogress types were slumped on the other side of the canyon, facing the Chosen Children; Ankylomon had fallen leadenly atop Kentarumon, directly beneath the kids; Angemon, seemingly lifeless, was sprawled face-down beside the Holy Stone.
Black War Greymon chuckled, turned to face the stone and the angel beside it. "You've made this simpler than I thought it would, Guardian," he rumbled, taking steps towards the relic. "Now I shall take pleasure in destroying the Holy Stone - and perhaps yourself while I'm at it."
"I ... will not ... allow you ... to touch ... the Stone."
The dragon's eyes shrank in shock. Miraculously, Angemon brought up his staff and dragged himself to a standing position. He looked unharmed, yet something was unusual about him. His voice had gone deeper....
Not again, Takeru thought in horror, opening his eyes.
The Guardian.
Angemon was speaking again ... as the Guardian.
Buck turned to face Parker again, a quizzical expression upon his face.
"Frank ... Angemon was speaking ... in English!"
Parker glanced at the reporter. "Was he?"
Buck nodded rapidly. "First, I just heard gibberish from all those kids and digimon - and then I heard the dragon say 'I'll take pleasure in destroying the Holy Stone', and then Angemon say 'I won't let you'!" He turned back to the battlefield. "Do you think ... that the Guardian's come back again?"
Parker buried his face in his hands. "Please don't say that he is."
Black War Greymon was toe to toe with Angemon now. He extended a claw outward and seized Angemon's neck. The angel could not resist the dragon's tight grasp; he lay limp, his staff falling from his hands. Desperate squeezing could be heard across the canyon, the stress of flesh and bone against metal and dark strength.
"And even at your end, you just give in," the dragon crooned, lifting Angemon from the canyon floor. "Is that how angels are?" He brought his face close to the angel's, enough to see the hidden snicker from behind his armor. "You know, I can pop your neck, just like-"
A burst of electricity cackled from above, striking Black War Greymon in his side.
"Mega Blaster!"
Black War Greymon tumbled to the far side of the canyon, the shock of the attack flinging Angemon from his claws. The angel slammed into the Holy Stone, but this time he did not show signs of moving again.
And that was when the Holy Stone started to glow with a turquoise aura, enveloping the canyon entire.
It's just like it was three years ago, Takeru mused, remembering his perpetual nightmare....
Angemon had been forced into the side of Infinity Mountain, soon falling hundreds of feet to Takeru's side, perhaps in a state worse than he was now. And then that light had enveloped the entire battlefield ... transforming Angemon to the Guardian ... bringing the battle to the plain of Har-megiddon, the Crimson Battle-plain....
And the battle played again in his mind, rewinding, fast-forwarding to that critical moment ... a single mote of darkness striking the Guardian's neck ... a single stroke, that's all it took to kill him then ... all it took on that blood-drenched battlefield....
Remember ... greater toll will befall the next who will battle upon this plain during the seven-year darkness....
Was that time ... at hand?
It can't be now, Takeru desperately thought.
Angemon can't bring the seven-year darkness upon us NOW!
The light faded away, leaving the canyon as it was before.
Chosen Children, young and adult, stood atop the canyon road, partners in Child-form beside them or in their hands - except for Takeru.
His partner was beside the Holy Stone ... but how?
A brilliant angel, a vision of ivory robes and wings, stood before the ancient relic, gleaming sword of silver in his hands.
The Guardian.
And before him was an armored dragon bathed in darkness - Black War Greymon.
"I was right all along," the dragon snickered gleefully. "You were the Guardian of the Holy Stones - the creature I saw in their destruction." He pointed a claw at the angel. "And now ... you shall meet their fate!" He brought his arms above his head, forming a gargantuan fireball between his clawed hands. "Gaia Force!"
The fireball plunged towards the Guardian, smashing into him and the Holy Stone behind with tremendous force. The stench of dust rose to the air as the fire let down; the Stone was now nothing more than crumbled rock.
And atop the wreckage was a familiar, broken body: Patamon.
"I hope you've learned your lesson, Guardian," Black War Greymon said. "Don't cross my path again."
Before the dust even cleared from the canyon in full, the dragon lifted to the air, gliding off on his aimless wanderings.
A beeping reached Parker's ears: his D3 was ringing. He pulled it from a pocket and, satisfied that the Japanese children were running down the canyon, pressed a button.
Owsley was on the screen, this time in a change of clothes. "I saw the special," came the drone from the other side. "Why didn't you help the Guardian?"
Buck cowered over the screen, a blank expression in his eyes. "I don't know," the two men said in unison.
"It was as if something was ... stopping us," Buck continued. "A memory ... not my own, yet it was, familiar."
"Same here," Parker sighed. "But look on the bright side: the kids are still around."
"At least we got something done right." Owsley shifted off the screen, seeming to gather something. "Oh, yeah: D3 program now gives the locations of the three other Holy Stones. It'd be best if we gave you those coordinates so that you could defend those sites. I'm having Olga work on some way of concealing the Stones so that Black War Greymon can't find them that easily."
"There's a problem," Parker interjected. "Black War Greymon can also detect the Guardian's presence, no matter what form he's in. What about that?"
"You heard him," Owsley insisted. "The Guardian has the same properties as the Stones. If we can shield the Stones, then we can shield the Guardian, too."
The men nodded in consent. "Okay," Parker sighed. "We're coming back now, and will be back within an hour." He pressed a button on the D3, replacing Owsley's face with the map grid.
"Come on, Buck," he said, motioning for the reporter and the digimon to follow. "Let's go home."
And so the two men walked the canyon road away from the ruins of the Holy Stone, leaving the Chosen Children to discuss amongst themselves what had occurred.
[FAQ CORRECTION: I made a boo-boo in the last issue when dealing with the LEFT BEHIND timeline. Buck's interview in the book series takes place a year and two months before the disappearances, not one month; his cover story on the air attack was on a New Year's issue of his newsmagazine. And in the movie, the date of the disappearances was the Christmas of 2001 - though it didn't look like it. Of course, I changed the dates for reasons that are still the same as they were before. Sorry about this!]
Backstep 07
The Realizing of Memories - Holy Point Revisited
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Location - Takaishi residence, Odaiba, Tokyo, Japan
Time - seven hours before Digital Conundrum
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"Haha, tada ima!" Takeru called out in Japanese as he entered the dark apartment, slipping off his shoes. "I'm home, Mother!" He placed his shoes by his mother's, soon noticing two other pairs on the opposite side of the entryway. They looked familiar. Taking in the long-forgotten scent of home, Takeru walked towards the living room, gingerly holding a sleeping Patamon against his chest.
"Takeru? Is that you?" a voice called.
Takeru's ears perked up. Quickly he ran into the room. The sight before him brought a tear to his eyes.
Ms. Takaishi, Yamato, and Mr. Ishida were seated upon the couch, staring off into infinity. They didn't look up to see the boy enter on tiptoe into the room. Their heads were cradled in their hands, their faces expressionless.
"Yamato? Mother? Dad?" Takeru ventured, staying by the living room entrance. "Sorry I got back late." He bowed slightly, abruptly going upright as he noticed Patamon moaning.
Takeru's mother raised her head and rose from the couch. "Thank God you came home, Takeru," she smiled, running to her son's side. She brought her arms about Takeru and pulled him close.
"Please, Mom, not so hard," Takeru protested, trying not to call attention to Patamon. Momentarily he felt his mother's arms release their hold.
"Where were you?" Takeru's father asked in an unusually relieved voice.
"Oh ... I was in Chiba with Hikari," Takeru said solemnly, looking over at Yamato. The knowing glint in his older brother's eyes told Takeru that he wanted to speak to him. "We were getting research for the class project we were doing with Daisuke."
"You should've told us," Takeru's mother sighed. "Now come on and get to bed."
Takeru nodded. "Okay."
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Location - Parker's quarters, NNL
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Buck returned to Parker's cramped quarters in the NNL complex with a gauze bandage taped to his forehead. He plopped himself on Parker's bed, not noticing the two digimon that lay exhausted by his feet.
"Frank's taking a shower," Tentomon buzzed, obviously bored. "And we can't get to the Digital World until it's a decent time in Japan."
"Which is about six hours from now," Elecmon groaned. "Stupid time difference."
"At least I have the time to take a shower, get dressed, and hope that Olga gets these dumb stitches out," Buck sighed. "Wake me when Frank's out."
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Location - Takeru's bedroom, Takaishi residence, Odaiba, Tokyo, Japan
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It was that dream again.
The same dream that plagued Takeru for three years....
He was at the base of Infinity Mountain, staring upwards into the crimson maw of Devimon's eyes. Patamon was hovering by Takeru's head, his ears disturbing the air to keep himself aloft. Long ago Takeru had heard the moans of digimon and Chosen Children in the area about him - this time there was only silence.
"Legend said that the one with the digimon that was the last to evolve will be the one to destroy me," Devimon growled, his gargantuan, clawed hand reaching towards Takeru. "Death Claw!"
In the past Takeru had ducked in the presence of the massive hand. Even though it had been three years, he still followed standard earthquake preparedness drill procedure - hands tucked over his head, crouching close to the ground. He could feel the wind against his neck as Patamon fired his special attack.
"Air Shot! Air Shot!"
It was futile, Takeru knew from experience. He could feel the dullness of darkness as Devimon's hand swept over him, snatching Patamon in the air. Then that horrible squeezing sound, like squeaking rubber, filled Takeru's ears. What was Devimon trying to prove - that he could destroy an innocent digimon with his bare hands? It wouldn't be the first time.
Takeru's vision was blanked in white moments later. He stood up, finding Devimon's hands empty ... and a brilliant angel hovering overhead.
Angemon.
"What is this?" Devimon growled in dismay, using rather impolite Japanese terms. "Who are you?"
"I am the one destined to defeat you," Angemon lowed in the Guardian's voice.
Takeru shook his head in disbelief. He didn't remember this exchange occurring in the dream, or even when it actually happened! He recalled words of hope, the lights from the digivices, a blast of golden light ... and then Angemon's reconfiguration.... But not the Guardian - he may have heard his voice before, but not those words!
"Damn it, tell me who you are!" Devimon roared, his voice breaking loose some boulders from the summit of Infinity Mountain. "What is your name?"
A white aura formed around Angemon's body, shielding him from view. "I am the Guardian of the Trumpet of Hope," the digimon whispered. "The one destined to defeat you."
"If you were the one to defeat me," Devimon laughed, "you should have arrived sooner. The island is already shrouded with darkness, and there's nothing you can do about it in your puny digimon form!" He extended one of his monstrous hands and swept it out towards the angel. "Death Claw!"
Angemon did not move to dodge the assault. The dark hand slammed into the angel's side with a sickening crack, followed by a crunch as Angemon's body crashed limply into the mountainside, dissipating the aura about him. The digimon fell to the ground by Takeru's side, convulsing sporadically.
"Not here," Angemon gasped in the Guardian's voice, bringing himself to a kneeling position with his staff. "The battle can not be fought here."
"What do you mean?" Takeru asked blankly, turning to face his partner. "There's nobody here."
Angemon's body again glowed with brightness, as did the landscape of Infinity Mountain. Takeru raised his arms and shielded his eyes, the light was so blinding. Only when he felt the brightness fade away from him did he lower his hands.
Shock ran through the boy's body. This was not where he was last, the base of Infinity Mountain. The terrain was too ... flat. The only mountains were seemingly miles away all around him, tinted crimson by a blood red sun. There was no vegetation, save for a single skeleton of a tree devoid of foliage. Rust-colored dust blew across the plain, stinging Takeru's eyes.
Momentarily the dust settled, and a form in white took shape. It was another angel, dressed in robes of white. Golden hair seemed to poke from behind an ivory miter that shielded his face from view. A naked sword, gleaming silver in the red light, was held in his gloved hands. He stopped before Takeru and held the sword to his side.
"I am the Guardian," the angel stated, not seeming to take a glance at Takeru.
"Where are we?" Takeru stammered. "And where's Devimon?"
"This is the plain of Har-megiddon," the Guardian stated plainly; "and the beast you speak of is behind you. Behold."
Takeru spun on his heels, surprise in his eyes. Devimon was standing there, a sinister smile playing on his lips. He looked smaller than he did at Infinity Mountain.
"What are you going to do?" Takeru asked, turning to look into the Guardian's shielded face.
"Stand back, Takeru," the Guardian warned. "I'll make him come."
Warily Takeru backed away from the angel - there was no choice but to obey. The Guardian took the sword in his hands and brought it in a circle before him. A golden light was emitted from the sword's path, sucking in the crimson dust of the plain. Devimon, as well, was being drawn to the light, vanishing as the dust that had come before.
"You will pay for what you have done!" Devimon cursed as he was sucked into the golden maw. He futilely extended his hands towards the Guardian. "Death Claw!"
One of Devimon's claws sank into the Guardian's neck, expelling a gush of ivory blood. With a laugh only the insane would perform the dark digimon sank into the hole.
And then the wind stopped.
The Guardian, with a cry that would be a nine on the Richter scale, fell to the ground, a hand against his wound. Takeru, hesitant, inched towards the Guardian, yet the angel's sharp words brought him still.
"You will be the only one who remembers what has occurred here on the plain of Har-megiddon," the Guardian gasped. "This memory will be shielded until the due time. But remember this, Takeru - greater blood has been shed on this battlefield before, and even greater toll will befall the next who battle on the plain during the seven-year darkness...."
And in a flash of white light, the Guardian vanished, leaving nothing but a lone feather in his wake.
Takeru sat up, panting as the first rays of daylight crept through his window. He looked down at his side - Patamon was sleeping, a telltale snot bubble expanding and contracting with every snore. The digimon seemed more relaxed than he was just hours before.
Quietly Takeru took the alarm clock from his nightstand and glanced at it. Six o'clock already. Almost an hour before the computer room would be opened for summer school classes.
Well, at least Patamon's okay now, Takeru thought with a sigh.
Yet for some strange reason his nightmare did not easily vanish.
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Location - Parker's quarters, NNL
Time - two hours before Digital Conundrum
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Parker was sitting before his computer checking his e-mail when Buck emerged from the shower. The reporter hastily pulled on a fresh shirt and pants before taking a seat by his friend. The digimon, as they were hours before, were sleeping on Parker's bed.
"Anything new, Frank?" Buck asked, catching a glimpse of the e-mail screen. There weren't many messages indicated upon it - must be something that comes with being a government agent, Buck mused. Journalists - especially Pulitzer Prize-winning ones like he - were swamped with e-mail day in and out.
"Well, Talmadge went to the Middle East with the President earlier today to prevent the crash that was to happen later this evening," Parker stated, knowing that Buck wouldn't understand. "He's on his way back right now. And Owsley forwarded a message to all senior staff that he downloaded the latest version of QuickTime."
"Anything good about that?"
"Well, it does mean that Owsley can watch and contact us while we try to save the world tonight - along with a whole lot of other nerds like him."
"Great," Buck moaned. "Just what we needed - the rest of the world learning about the Digital World."
"Hey, nobody believed that it was real in the previous timeline," Parker laughed. He clicked on a few e-mails that he already read and deleted them. Only one was left on the screen.
"Hmm," Parker mused. "Wonder who the heck Tsion Ben-Judah is," he muttered as he clicked on the remaining icon. A rather brief message flashed onto the screen.
"Greetings, Frank and Cameron!" Buck read off the screen. He turned towards Parker, a quizzical expression furrowed in his forehead. "How did this guy know our given names?"
Parker only shrugged indifferently.
"Okay," Buck scoffed. "Let's see ... 'Things here in Jerusalem are going fine, ever since that treaty was signed last year. I know it's been sixteen years since I last saw you two - I'm sure that things are different in America now. Currently I'm studying the Messiah prophesies with other rabbis, hoping to find at least something in common with any living man. Yet something has bugged me for the past few days, like you two were in trouble with an old foe of ours. Well, here's a little verse I decided to send for inspiration - you two might remember it.'" He turned to look at Parker. "You wouldn't mind if I kept on reading, Frank?"
"No," Parker muttered. "Go on."
Buck exhaled quickly before he turned back to the screen. "'Saint Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle'-"
"Hey, I remember this!" Parker interrupted, scooting closer to the computer screen. Momentarily he nodded and leaned back in his chair. "The nuns back at the orphanage used to say this verse."
"That's strange," Buck mused blankly. "The only time I've heard anything that started like that was sixteen years ago. How long were you in that orphanage, Frank?"
"Oh, maybe until I was old enough to join the military." Parker stood up. "Why?"
"Don't you find it somewhat coincidental," Buck said, "that some man that claims that he knew us sixteen years ago would send us something we haven't heard since then?"
"It's not just coincidence," Parker sighed. "It's suspicious. According to the header, this e-mail was sent not but an hour ago."
"So?"
"I think this Tsion has some connection in the Digital Conundrum," Parker whispered. He deleted the e-mail and closed down a few more windows. "Just great - less than two hours before the world's screwed. Should we go to the Digital World now?"
Buck nodded. "Sounds like a good time. Hey, Elecmon, Tentomon," he called out to the digimon, "wake up! We're going!"
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Location - Holy Point, Digital World
Time - one hour before Digital Conundrum
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Daisuke, Ken, Miyako, Hikari, and their digimon were keeping watch at the Holy Stone late in the Digital World evening. The spire that was the fourth Holy Stone shone with an aquamarine aura, the only light in the area other than the stars, the moon, and the glow of the D3s.
"I wonder where Takeru and Iori are," Hikari muttered, glancing warily at the cliff-side road that led away from the spire. "They said they'd be here."
"I'm just hoping that those two American overgrown Chosen Children get here," Daisuke groaned, plopping to the ground exhausted. "Where are Frank and Buck, anyway?"
"You know Frank and Buck?" Hikari asked skeptically.
"Yeah, of course," Daisuke boasted. "They stopped an argument over-"
"Let's not get into that," Miyako laughed, slapping Daisuke squarely on the cheek. She turned to Hikari. "But how did you meet them? You said that you were in the World of Darkness for months with Takeru."
"Well, they just ... came to our rescue," Hikari managed at last - and in more ways than one, she added mentally.
"At least something's consistent," Daisuke scoffed. "Hikari, did you ever notice something strange about Buck?"
This time the girl could only burst into giggles. "What do you mean? Buck's just a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist! There's nothing strange about that."
Daisuke blushed, the deep red even visible in the darkness. "Well, that's strange enough for me!" he blurted suddenly.
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Location - somewhere else near the Holy Point, Digital World
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Takeru and Iori were padding away from the television that would send them back home when they heard the clacking of claws on brittle rock. Slowly the boys and their digimon turned back, finding only a yellowish reptile with a fur pelt draped over his body.
"Gabumon?" Takeru said quizzically, tilting his head at an odd angle. "What're you doing here?"
"Oh, I'm just came here to tell you something," the reptile breathed. "Agumon had a chat with Black War Greymon - and he says that he has a soul!"
"A soul?" Takeru scoffed. "You've got to be kidding."
"But Agumon insists that it's true," Gabumon continued. "No object would ask the soul-searching questions he did."
"Gabumon, characters in computer games ask the same sort of questions because they're programmed to," Takeru sighed at last. "Why don't you go back and tell us if Black War Greymon's coming."
Gabumon sighed reluctantly. "All right, Takeru."
The digimon vanished into the shadows, right when a burst of white light was emitted from the television screen. Four shadows appeared: Frank, Buck, and their digimon.
Frank muttered something in English, which the boys didn't catch.
"I think they're speaking English," Iori said blankly. "Who are they, anyway?"
"They're Frank Parker and Buck Williams," Takeru sighed. "They're Americans - though the last time I spoke to them, they were speaking in Japanese." He looked down at Patamon, who was still sleeping in his arms. "It must be like Frank said - the gift of tongues," he muttered.
"What was that?"
Takeru shook his head. "Oh, nothing." He motioned for Frank and Buck to follow. "Now come on - we have to meet Daisuke and the others at the Holy Point."
Parker and Buck saw the slight gesture of Takeru's hand, an invitation to follow. They carefully traversed a ramshackle wood-plank bridge to catch up with the Japanese boys. Takeru and Iori were heatedly arguing over something, or so the men assumed.
"I wish I actually knew Japanese," Buck sighed under Elecmon's weight on his shoulders.
"And I thought journalists were supposed to know at least one foreign language," Parker laughed.
"I do, Frank. It's called Latin."
"As if anybody speaks Latin these days," Parker chuckled. "I had to learn it because the nuns spoke their prayers in that language - not that they do that anymore."
"I learned it for the same reason," Buck laughed. He looked forward at the children that led the way through the winding canyon. "Don't you find it kind of strange?"
"What?"
"We have so much in common. We both have digimon, supposedly we knew each other sixteen years ago, and we also know Latin." He brought a finger to his chin. "Oh, yeah - the Guardian and that Ben guy from Israel claimed that they knew the two of us sixteen years ago-"
"And Ben e-mailed us that verse that we both haven't seen in sixteen years," Parker finished. "You're right - it does sound kind of strange. You sure it isn't coincidental?"
"I'd doubt it," Tentomon buzzed. "If you and Buck were Chosen sixteen years ago, there must've been a reason."
"But what would that be?" Buck and Frank asked in unison.
"Well, usually it has something to do with saving the Digital World," Elecmon grumbled. "These younger children have never encountered the Guardian before - maybe somebody needed some Chosen Children that had known him."
"But weren't there others?" Buck queried. "Frank and I can't be the only ones."
"Come to think of it," Tentomon started, "I think there were three others...."
"Who?"
"Oh, I forget."
Parker and Buck groaned in defeat. "So it's just the two of us?" Parker asked rebelliously.
"Yeah," Tentomon muttered.
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Location - Holy Point, Digital World
Time - two minutes before Digital Conundrum
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Daisuke looked down at the digivice in Ken's hands. Eight red dots were coming down the path along the cliff towards them. "Those must be Frank, Buck, Iori, and Takeru," he stated. "Can't they move any faster?"
"They must be trying to communicate with each other if they're walking this slowly," Ken mused, still looking down at the digivice screen. A dark wave was inching its way towards the spire that was the Holy Stone. "And Black War Greymon's coming closer."
"We should evolve - now," Miyako cried out cheerfully. "Lets try out this jogress evolution thing, Hikari."
For the first time in months, Hikari nodded her head with a smile. "Okay."
The canyon was briefly aglow in the lights of evolution as the digimon metamorphosed and two hearts became one.
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Location - an abandoned apartment building, Los Angeles, California, USA
Time - one minute before Digital Conundrum
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Delores and Nicolae sat glumly before their array of computers, bowls of steaming ramen in their laps. It was sometime late in the Californian afternoon, the rare honking of a car breaking into their apartment.
"Why must people return from work so early?" Nicolae groaned, dipping chopsticks into his ramen. "The sound of the horns hurts my ears."
"Quit your whining," Delores snapped, slapping the Romanian president in the face. "The end of the Chosen Children is drawing near."
"But how?" Nicolae rubbed his head, concealing a flushed handprint on his cheek. "We have tried to destroy the Center, and those oversized Chosen Children saved the Guardian from Dagomon. And we have been unable to hack into NNL, what with all those firewalls and such. What other alternative do we have?"
Delores smiled wickedly behind her purple-tinted sunglasses. "We still have Black War Greymon. As long as he destroys the Holy Stones, the Guardian will grow weaker. And when the last Stone is destroyed-" here she imitated an explosion "- the Guardian will have blown the Trumpet, and all the Chosen Children will be gone." She laughed with fiendish glee in Nicolae's face. "And then the world will be ours!"
In her hysteria Delores stood from her chair, forgetting about the ramen bowl in her lap. It spilled noodles, soup, and chopsticks across the floor and down her dress.
"Blast!" she cursed. "Why does this always happen when I eat ramen?"
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Location - Holy Point, Digital World
Time - start of Digital Conundrum
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Paildramon and Silphymon stood at the base of the Holy Stone, the two digimon at a battle ready. Their eyes stared off at an advancing patch of darkness visible against the tapestry of the stars.
Black War Greymon.
"You two go and get him this time!" Daisuke yelled from the top of the canyon. "You can do it!"
"Yeah!" Miyako cheered. "Defend that Holy Stone!"
The advancing shadow undauntedly continued to march forward. Moonlight glinted off the silver armor that accented his shielded body. A sinister rumble could be felt with each footfall - or was that just laughter?
"What makes you think that you can protect that ancient piece of junk, anyway?" the rumble chuckled. "There's no more reason for them to stand anymore."
"You destroy this Stone," Paildramon yelled, grasping the guns at his sides, "and you'll set this part of the Digital World into flux!" A blue light formed at the muzzle of the guns. "Desperado Blaster!"
Shots of sky-blue light fired out towards the dark dragon; only the ping of metal meeting metal responded. Black War Greymon continued to advance.
"And you think that will stop me?" he replied jokingly. "Try again."
Silphymon brought her clawed hands before her body, gathering a crimson radiance into them. "It's my turn! Dual Sonic!"
A ball of bright red rammed into Black War Greymon's side, briefly illuminating the canyon. Only the glare of the dragon's eyes in the temporary day told the horrifying truth - he was unharmed.
"Nothing's working!" Ken gasped.
"How can this be?" Miyako cried, framing head in her hands. "None of our attacks can harm him!"
"Where are Frank and Buck?" Hikari queried to no-one in particular.
A buzzing of enormous wings came to her response.
"Mega Blaster!"
"Hunting Cannon!"
Two balls of blue, cackling electricity shot out from the other side of the canyon, both striking at Black War Greymon's back. The dragon groaned in slight agony, supporting himself on the ground.
"Where did that come from?" he breathed, his breath short.
Kabuterimon, with Parker and Buck alighted on his head, circled around the canyon to face the dark digimon. "It came from us, you big sissy!" Buck yelled out in English. "It's what you call reinforcements!"
"The Americans," Black War Greymon gasped in Japanese, attempting to stand again. "Darn cocky Yankees."
"Hey, don't diss the men there!" a gruff voice called from the cliff. "Say that again and you'll answer to more than just a wisecrack!"
The children on the cliff, shocked, turned at the path that led to the Stone, where the voice had originated. Standing in the middle of the road was a tall centaur, Takeru and Iori upon its back, flanked by Armadimon and Patamon. The boys leaped off the centaur's back and flashed brief smiles.
"Sorry we're late," Iori said. "We just got word from Gabumon that Black War Greymon has a heart."
"What've I told you, Iori?" Takeru scolded, looking down at the boy. "Creatures made of darkness don't have hearts." He turned back to the other Chosen Children. "We came with Frank and Buck and thought we could help."
"That's good," Daisuke sighed. "Now have your partners evolve and go help!"
Iori turned to Armadimon and nodded his head. "You ready?"
"Absolutely!" came the vigorous reply. "Armadimon, evolve! Ankylomon!"
The armored dinosaur flung himself off the cliff, landing scant feet behind Black War Greymon. He swung back his bony tail, yelling, "Tail Hammer!"
Slight shock ran through the earth as bone met flesh and metal. A red bruise could be seen on the dragon's ebony skin, despite the evening light. Black War Greymon roared in obvious pain, swerving about to stab Ankylomon with his claws.
"You're not touching him!" the centaur bellowed, outreaching his right hand. A strange array emerged from the flesh, gathering electricity in his palm. "Hunting Cannon!"
A ball of white light was released from his hand, striking Black War Greymon in the face. The dark dragon was flung to the far side of the canyon, meeting the wall with a sickening crunch.
"Thanks, Kentarumon," Ankylomon chuckled in English, swerving to face Black War Greymon. Then, in Japanese: "Hey, Patamon, what's taking you?"
Patamon, hovering by Takeru's head, raggedly chanced a glance at his partner. "They need me down there, Takeru," he whimpered, pointing with a stubby leg. "Let me evolve and fight!"
Takeru could only look away from the battle, eyes closed tight. "No, Patamon. I can't. I won't!"
"But why?" Patamon insisted. "Why?"
Takeru angrily turned his head towards Patamon. "Because ... because-"
He couldn't say anymore. It was as if something was clamping down his tongue, oppressing his very train of thought. Because I don't want to lose you again, that was what he had wanted to say. I lost you on Har-megiddon; I lost you in the Dark Ocean; I don't want to lose you now.
And it's because ... you're the Guardian.
"I ... I don't want what happened at the Dark Ocean to happen here," he finally whispered, closing his eyes. "I ... don't want you to get hurt."
Patamon could only grin. "Is that all?" He laughed. "Come on, Takeru - I won't hurt myself."
The strangely reassuring words brought Takeru to cheerful laughter. "Okay. I'll let you fight."
With little more than a playful smile, Patamon glided down the canyon, his body glowing with a golden light. "Patamon, evolve! Angemon!"
Parker and Buck, seated atop Kabuterimon's head, shielded their eyes as the brilliant angel completed its metamorphosis. Presently they brought down their arms, though spots of light danced before their eyes.
Buck took out his D3 and pressed one of the buttons. An analyzer screen appeared, with the angel's picture and a few statistics written in English.
"That thing's an ... Angemon," Buck read, looking up from the D3. "According to the D3, he's a creature of pure goodness, with even the power to defeat monsters at the...." He paused a moment to read the screen again. "Defeat monsters at the Final level? What's that?"
"Hey, I don't know myself," Parker shrugged, looking gloomily at the battlefield below. "Buck, this doesn't look good."
The reporter pocketed his D3 and turned to Parker. "What do you mean, Frank?"
"In the previous timeline," Frank sighed, "when Angemon appeared ... everything got screwed."
"Did he do something wrong?"
Parker shook his head. "No, nothing like that. He transformed into the Guardian ... and then something weakened him tremendously, causing him to blow the Trumpet and make all those kids disappear - not to mention a whole lot more people back home."
"So, what do we do?" Buck asked skeptically, glancing down the canyon below. "Angemon's already appeared - now what?"
"We just have to prevent him from evolving to the Guardian - by protecting him."
Angemon hovered before Black War Greymon, who had by now gotten sturdy on his feet again. The angel held his staff at a ready position, and was toying with it casually.
Black War Greymon cocked his head at Angemon in a strange fashion. He seemed to be calculating something about the strange digimon, weighing him out. Occasionally the dragon would mutter something unintelligible in either Japanese or English. At long last he brought his head straight before his opponent, a rather sinister smile lurking upon his armored face.
"I sense something strange about you," he snarled, advancing a single step towards the angel. "The Holy Stones ... you appear to bear the same power as them - and the legendary Center that they keep in balance." Stealthily he drew up a claw and brought them beneath Angemon's chin. "You ... Angemon ... are you the Guardian ... of the Holy Stones...?"
Even if his answer was a negative, Angemon couldn't bring himself to shake his head. Sweat started to drip from beneath his helm. "No ... Black War Greymon," he whimpered, drawing himself taut. "I am not ... their Guardian."
Hesitantly Black War Greymon brought his claw down to his side. "I know you lie," he hissed, eyes narrowing in anger. "Every angel of this world bears a different message; yours reads 'Chosen of the Supreme Deity to safeguard the seven Stones that hide the Call to the Golden Land'. Have you been blind to that ... Guardian?" he asked disdainfully, pointing to the sash that decorated the angel's body.
Angemon, calm as he was, gave no reply.
Takeru, on the edge of the road upon the canyon's side, bent down his head in thought. "Even as Angemon, he still denies that he's the Guardian," he whispered. "Does he even remember what happened at the Dark Ocean - does he remember Frank and Buck trying to save him?"
Behind him, the other children were muttering amongst themselves. Most of it was talk of the Guardian, and Black War Greymon's peculiar behavior. A galloping crossed his hearing; the centaur - Kentarumon - was rushing down the canyon to Angemon's aid.
"At least someone out there cares for him," he muttered, "other than myself."
"You dare ignore me like this?"
Black War Greymon withdrew his claw again from Angemon and backed into a battle ready. Some of the other digimon - Paildramon, Silphymon, Ankylomon, and Kentarumon - had rushed to the angel's side; Kabuterimon still hovered near the Holy Stone.
"I say this again," Angemon managed firmly, now that the dragon had stepped away. "I am not the Guardian of the Holy Stones. I have no quarrel with you."
One of Black War Greymon's claws started to glow with a gray light, and electricity began to cackle in the air. "Insolent Guardian!" he growled bitterly. "You and those with you will fall! Dramon Killer!"
Swiftly the dragon brought his claw in an arc before him, knocking the digimon blockade towards the Holy Stone. The jogress types were slumped on the other side of the canyon, facing the Chosen Children; Ankylomon had fallen leadenly atop Kentarumon, directly beneath the kids; Angemon, seemingly lifeless, was sprawled face-down beside the Holy Stone.
Black War Greymon chuckled, turned to face the stone and the angel beside it. "You've made this simpler than I thought it would, Guardian," he rumbled, taking steps towards the relic. "Now I shall take pleasure in destroying the Holy Stone - and perhaps yourself while I'm at it."
"I ... will not ... allow you ... to touch ... the Stone."
The dragon's eyes shrank in shock. Miraculously, Angemon brought up his staff and dragged himself to a standing position. He looked unharmed, yet something was unusual about him. His voice had gone deeper....
Not again, Takeru thought in horror, opening his eyes.
The Guardian.
Angemon was speaking again ... as the Guardian.
Buck turned to face Parker again, a quizzical expression upon his face.
"Frank ... Angemon was speaking ... in English!"
Parker glanced at the reporter. "Was he?"
Buck nodded rapidly. "First, I just heard gibberish from all those kids and digimon - and then I heard the dragon say 'I'll take pleasure in destroying the Holy Stone', and then Angemon say 'I won't let you'!" He turned back to the battlefield. "Do you think ... that the Guardian's come back again?"
Parker buried his face in his hands. "Please don't say that he is."
Black War Greymon was toe to toe with Angemon now. He extended a claw outward and seized Angemon's neck. The angel could not resist the dragon's tight grasp; he lay limp, his staff falling from his hands. Desperate squeezing could be heard across the canyon, the stress of flesh and bone against metal and dark strength.
"And even at your end, you just give in," the dragon crooned, lifting Angemon from the canyon floor. "Is that how angels are?" He brought his face close to the angel's, enough to see the hidden snicker from behind his armor. "You know, I can pop your neck, just like-"
A burst of electricity cackled from above, striking Black War Greymon in his side.
"Mega Blaster!"
Black War Greymon tumbled to the far side of the canyon, the shock of the attack flinging Angemon from his claws. The angel slammed into the Holy Stone, but this time he did not show signs of moving again.
And that was when the Holy Stone started to glow with a turquoise aura, enveloping the canyon entire.
It's just like it was three years ago, Takeru mused, remembering his perpetual nightmare....
Angemon had been forced into the side of Infinity Mountain, soon falling hundreds of feet to Takeru's side, perhaps in a state worse than he was now. And then that light had enveloped the entire battlefield ... transforming Angemon to the Guardian ... bringing the battle to the plain of Har-megiddon, the Crimson Battle-plain....
And the battle played again in his mind, rewinding, fast-forwarding to that critical moment ... a single mote of darkness striking the Guardian's neck ... a single stroke, that's all it took to kill him then ... all it took on that blood-drenched battlefield....
Remember ... greater toll will befall the next who will battle upon this plain during the seven-year darkness....
Was that time ... at hand?
It can't be now, Takeru desperately thought.
Angemon can't bring the seven-year darkness upon us NOW!
The light faded away, leaving the canyon as it was before.
Chosen Children, young and adult, stood atop the canyon road, partners in Child-form beside them or in their hands - except for Takeru.
His partner was beside the Holy Stone ... but how?
A brilliant angel, a vision of ivory robes and wings, stood before the ancient relic, gleaming sword of silver in his hands.
The Guardian.
And before him was an armored dragon bathed in darkness - Black War Greymon.
"I was right all along," the dragon snickered gleefully. "You were the Guardian of the Holy Stones - the creature I saw in their destruction." He pointed a claw at the angel. "And now ... you shall meet their fate!" He brought his arms above his head, forming a gargantuan fireball between his clawed hands. "Gaia Force!"
The fireball plunged towards the Guardian, smashing into him and the Holy Stone behind with tremendous force. The stench of dust rose to the air as the fire let down; the Stone was now nothing more than crumbled rock.
And atop the wreckage was a familiar, broken body: Patamon.
"I hope you've learned your lesson, Guardian," Black War Greymon said. "Don't cross my path again."
Before the dust even cleared from the canyon in full, the dragon lifted to the air, gliding off on his aimless wanderings.
A beeping reached Parker's ears: his D3 was ringing. He pulled it from a pocket and, satisfied that the Japanese children were running down the canyon, pressed a button.
Owsley was on the screen, this time in a change of clothes. "I saw the special," came the drone from the other side. "Why didn't you help the Guardian?"
Buck cowered over the screen, a blank expression in his eyes. "I don't know," the two men said in unison.
"It was as if something was ... stopping us," Buck continued. "A memory ... not my own, yet it was, familiar."
"Same here," Parker sighed. "But look on the bright side: the kids are still around."
"At least we got something done right." Owsley shifted off the screen, seeming to gather something. "Oh, yeah: D3 program now gives the locations of the three other Holy Stones. It'd be best if we gave you those coordinates so that you could defend those sites. I'm having Olga work on some way of concealing the Stones so that Black War Greymon can't find them that easily."
"There's a problem," Parker interjected. "Black War Greymon can also detect the Guardian's presence, no matter what form he's in. What about that?"
"You heard him," Owsley insisted. "The Guardian has the same properties as the Stones. If we can shield the Stones, then we can shield the Guardian, too."
The men nodded in consent. "Okay," Parker sighed. "We're coming back now, and will be back within an hour." He pressed a button on the D3, replacing Owsley's face with the map grid.
"Come on, Buck," he said, motioning for the reporter and the digimon to follow. "Let's go home."
And so the two men walked the canyon road away from the ruins of the Holy Stone, leaving the Chosen Children to discuss amongst themselves what had occurred.
[FAQ CORRECTION: I made a boo-boo in the last issue when dealing with the LEFT BEHIND timeline. Buck's interview in the book series takes place a year and two months before the disappearances, not one month; his cover story on the air attack was on a New Year's issue of his newsmagazine. And in the movie, the date of the disappearances was the Christmas of 2001 - though it didn't look like it. Of course, I changed the dates for reasons that are still the same as they were before. Sorry about this!]