Eidolon Am I Chapter 3: Pillar of Smoke, Pillar of Fire, a digimon fanfic

Eidolon Am I

The Revelations Arch: Book 2

~ The future is only a reaction to the past. ~

By: Vain 12/19/2001

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This story is the sequel to "For They Shall Be Filled" and is Book Two of The Revelations Arch.

And, before you panic: NO, this story will not be as long as its predecessor. I think. I hope. Probably . . . Er . . . Maybe . . . Okay, I don't really have the slightest clue how long this will be—I just write what the voices tell me to. *The muses all cheer* They're eeeeeeeevil . . .

If you have not read "For They Shall Be Filled," GO READ IT NOW!!

If you have read "For They Shall Be Filled," good for you!!! My muses and I salute you. You should also have figured out by now that I don't own Digimon, or any of the characters pertaining to it.

I do however—as far as I know—own most of the plot bunnies here, the Four Original Guardians of the Digidestined (Kazunori Saito, Sanghee Kiangtzu, ect.), the concept of the Sacred Triangle, and the Original Nine. Genka Millenniumon is on loan from the gracious Ajora. Special thanks go to Herongale, Dante, Meimi, the Guardian, and Ajora. This wouldn't be possible without all your help. Thank you. ^_~

Enjoy the fic and READ AND REVIEW please!

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Chapter Two Pillar of Smoke, Pillar of Fire

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"And he looked toward Sodom and Gomorrah, and toward all the land of the plains, and beheld and, lo, the smoke of the country went up as the smoke of a furnace."

Genesis 19: 28

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Hikari walked slowly to the top of the hill and tried to push down the bile that was rising in the back of her throat. She stared down at her tennis shoes, refusing to look up at the swollen tequila orange sky or focus on the oil-slicked crab grass beneath her. She had walked this path what seemed like a thousand times to stare down into the valley that lay beneath. It never changed.

She reached the top of the hill and stopped, exhaling the humid air heavily. It clung to the back of her throat and she gagged.

"Look, Hikari-chan."

Her hair shifted slightly as the girl looked up at the sound of the voice and her eyes crinkled a bit at the edges when she saw Daisuke. He was pointing down the steep declivity of the hill to the field that lay beneath.

"Daisuke—"

"Look!" he hissed determinedly.

The girl's face twisted into a grimaced and she obeyed reluctantly. Her soft maroon eyes shimmered faintly and she gagged again at what was stretched beneath them.

It once had perhaps been a battlefield, but now all that remained was a butcher block.

The grass of the valley was churned up and matted; men, horses, and strange, four legged animal-like creatures scattered haphazardly across the ground. The sun was an angry red color and baked the blood-thickened mud to a hard crust. The scent of rot, vomit, defecation, and death was over powering, encouraging the carrion birds over-head to alight on the nearest convenient corpse and feed. The buzzing of the flies was so thick the sound was almost visible. Large, hunchbacked humanoids carrying stained gray sacs moved through the graveyard, swatting away the buzzards and fleshing eating gnats. Occasionally one would stop next to one of the less mangled bodies, grab a limb, and rip it off and hurriedly stuff it into its sac before its brethren could steal the body part away.

Hikari wrinkled her nose in disgust and turned away. The first time she had seen this she had thrown up and then passed out.

Daisuke watched her with sad velvet brown eyes. "You never really get used to it."

The girl shivered. "Why do they take the limbs?"

"To feed. They feed so that they can breed so that there are more of them to collect food. There's no more meaning to their lives than that." His voice trailed off sadly, a small sound against the buzzing and macabre bustle of the scavengers below.

"What are they?"

"A type of human. One of a thousand. I'm sure that there's some big long name for them, but there's no one left to give it to them."

She blinked as she digested that bit of information. "Where are all the people?"

Daisuke tilted his head in an odd way and his eyes reflected the sky, turning them a bloody crimson. Hikari frowned and looked back at the field. That was not Dai's body language—it was Ken's . . . And for some reason she was far more comfortable looking at the mauled, ground-up people below her than she was looking at a Daisuke who moved like Ichijouji Ken. There should never be anything in Daisuke that was like Ken. Ever.

The goggle-boy shrugged. "Dead. The ones who tried to run couldn't escape. The ones who tried to collaborate were sacrificed as offerings."

The Child of Light looked up sharply. "Offerings?"

Daisuke nodded and turned back to the field. "To God."

"And who is God?"

The boy shook his head and scowled at the ground. For a moment neither of them spoke and a foul wind blew, carrying the scent of decay up to their noses. A sliver of paper clung to her leg from an unknown source and she ignored it.

Hikari wrapped her arms around herself and dropped down into a crouch. "Why do you bring me here every night?"

"You come of your own will. In your dreams. I'm just the one you wanted to see." He looked away from her. "I am the last of us. TK, Miyako, Taichi, Yama, Iori, Jyou, Koushiro, Mimi, Ken," his voice cracked on the word 'Ken,' "Sora, you . . . I am the last. I hid and He couldn't find me. I ran." The boy clenched his fists and his body trembled slightly. "The Child of Courage and Friendship ran . . . And left his friends behind . . . I ran so very far away I thought they'd never get me."

Hikari's heart ached and for a moment she forgot that, no matter how horrid or realistic this was, this was all just a dream. This boy was not Daisuke. This field was not here. This was not real.

But the tortured look on the face of this boy who was so like her Daisuke yet wasn't was something too vivid to be false and she ached to wrap her arms around him and comfort him.

She stood up and swallowed. "This isn't real, you know."

It was cold comfort and she knew it.

The boy's eyes hardened in that way that didn't belong to him and Hikari looked away again. His voice was cold. "It's real to me."

". . ."

"It will be real to you too one day. Soon."

"What do you mean?"

The right side of Daisuke's mouth twitched slightly and it took her a moment to realize that the boy was sneering at her. He pointed at the piece of paper that still clung to her leg. "See for yourself."

Her eyes flickered and another shiver crawled up her spine. "What?"

"Look," he repeated.

She was still for a minute and then bent over with infinite slowness and pulled the paper off her leg. It was a bit of newspaper, a scrap written in some romanized gibberish language that she couldn't read. They all looked the same to her anyway. She looked up at Daisuke without comprehension and he grabbed the paper from her and shoved it in her face, forcing her to recoil and blink rapidly.

The date was written in tiny size six font in the upper right hand corner and it took her a moment to translate the western style into Japanese.

"December 17th . . ." Her eyes widened as she stared at the year. "This . . . can't be right . . ."

Her jaw clenched and her eyes darted to Dai's face. The boy's smile turned from cruel to bitter. "It's January 29th today. One year after this was printed. It was the last one printed. The Czech Republic was the last country to fall. Today my sister would have turned 20. She wanted to go to college, you know."

She jerked her head to the side in a painful gesture. "I—"

"You're putting the pieces together forwards to back, you know. You better get a clue before they meet in the middle." Daisuke balled the paper up and threw it off the hill. It was caught by a breeze and blown away. "By then it will be too late for Ken. For me. For everyone."

"Ken? This is about Ken?"

The dark-skinned boy snorted. "No! You all always got so hung up on Ken! This has nothing to do with Ken! Not directly. Moon=Millenniumon is the one to worry about. Daemon. Vandemon—"

She lurched away from him suddenly. "Vandemon is dead!"

"No. Nothing ever dies. That's the whole point."

Hikari opened her mouth to say something, but a flash of light flared in the eastern sky and Daisuke turned away.

A hand flew up to cover his mouth and Hikari took a step towards him. He jerked away.

"Dais—"

The boy whirled around and his eyes looked unnaturally large. He grabbed her wrists and literally threw her back. "Run, Hikari-san!" he whispered. "Go now!"

She hit the slimy ground and gasped as the air left her lungs with a soft 'oof' sound. She leaned forward, trying to see Daisuke in the growing brilliance but all that was left of him was a fading shadow against the light.

"Daisuke . . ."

And then there was nothing.

~***~

The bed shuddered and Wormmon's eyes slid open lazily. His large blue orbs blinked in the darkness for a moment before he focused on the boy next to him. Ken's eyebrows were drawn and his breath came in soft pants. He muttered and shifted restlessly in his sleep, a fine sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. Delicate lines of pain had formed around his mouth, drawing his lips into a tight line.

The digimon uncurled and stretched, feeling the faint pop as his carapus shifted over his flesh. He yawned and puttered forward gracelessly to nuzzle his boy's cheek. "Ken-chan."

The human groaned faintly.

"Ken-chan." The digimon rose up on his hind pods and gently pushed against Ken's shoulder. "Wake up."

"Mmmm . . ." A pale hand waved at Wormmon and the digimon's eyes narrowed in a frown.

"Ken-chan!" He pushed on the human again, harder this time. "Ken, wake up!"

"Tired," the boy responded in a slurred whisper. "Sleep."

"Ken!! Wake up!" He pushed his head against Ken shoulder and his tail pinchers clicked worriedly. "Wake! Up!"

He stopped when Ken's eyes fluttered open. "Ken-chan? You awake now?"

Icy violet eyes blinked sightlessly for a moment before Ken shivered slightly and burrowed beneath his covers. He reached out and pulled the digimon close to him and his voice sounded thick with sleep. "What's wrong, Wormmon?"

The virus type snuggled down into his partner's arms and his antennae twitched unhappily. "You looked funny. Like you where in pain . . ." He sighed and wiggled around for a moment before settling down again. "What's wrong?"

"Headaches. Migraines; I used to get them a lot when I was younger. They're nothing to worry about."

Wormmon pulled out of Ken's arms reluctantly and turned around to face his human. His eyes shone brightly in the faint light in the room. "Headaches when you're asleep?"

Ken grunted in response and shivered again. "Sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

The digimon pouted. "No. I want to talk now. You've been acting weird ever since the Jogress. Why'd you turn Daisuke-san down? He just wants to help."

A single eye opened and Ken scowled faintly. "We'll talk in the morning, Wormmon."

"We'll talk now," the little creature replied stubbornly.

"Well then you can talk to yourself because I am going back to sleep," Ken snapped peevishly.

Large blue eyes shimmered. "Ken-chan . . ."

The boy opened his eyes again and sat up, his face slightly contorted in the night. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rubbed his eyes. "Wormmon, I am tired! Can't this wait until tomorrow?"

"I'm worried about you, Ken-chan. You're so tired all the time and you don't really seem to be paying attention to anything much . . ." The digimon trailed off uncertainly, his soft warble sounding weak and too quiet in the darkness.

Ken buried his face in his knees and covered his head with his arms. "Well maybe I wouldn't be tired if you would let me get some sleep!"

The digimon flinched and unconsciously skittered backwards to avoid a blow that wasn't coming. Ken peered out over his knees, his expression hidden beneath his arms. He turned away again.

"I . . . Wormmon . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean that . . ." He uncurled and tucked his legs beneath him Indian-style. He looked down at the bedspread. "I . . . I'm just so tired all the time . . . No matter how much I sleep I . . ."

The little virus waddled across the sheets and climbed into Ken's lap.

"My head hurts," the boy muttered faintly. He hugged his digimon.

"Is it the dreams again? Like before?"

Ken shook his head slowly. "No. No dreams . . . I haven't dreamed since . . ."

"Ken-chan?"

"It's nothing . . ."

Wormmon's antennae drooped unhappily. "You haven't dreamed since the Jogress, have you?" Ken shivered and the digimon looked up at him. "My dreams have changed, too. They're not so scary anymore and I don't dream about being alone. Or about when you were different."

"I don't dream," Ken whispered. "I don't think I can anymore . . ."

Wormmon shifted slightly as Ken leaned back against the wall at the head of his bed. "Then why do you look so upset at night, Ken-chan? You used to sleep like that when you were the Kaiser. I'd sneak in and watch you."

Ken tilted his head to the side. "Why?"

"What?" The digimon twisted around in his arms to get a better look at Ken's face.

"Why would you come in and watch me?

Wormmon's tail pincers clicked faintly and his brows lowered a bit. "I don't know . . . I guess I missed you." He closed his eyes and rested his head against Ken's chest, nuzzling the soft cotton material of his shirt. "I missed you a lot then."

The child smiled faintly and hugged the creature gently. "I missed you too."

"Then tell me what's wrong?"

Pale hands gently pushed back the soft plastic-like antennae and Ken sighed heavily. "This . . . shared digimon thing . . . I don't trust it. I don't want to lose you."

"But Ken . . ." Wormmon wiggled free and climbed up the boy's chest so that they were eye to eye, "It wasn't like that at all. You won't lose me. Not ever. There was me and there was Veemon, but we weren't the same thing together. We were still ourselves." He closed his eyes and laid his head down on his human's shoulder. "I know you don't really like it when we jogress, but what about when you and Daisuke-san do it? Doesn't it make you feel better? All warm and safe? It's like when you hold me like this; I'm safe."

Ken opened his eyes. "No. It doesn't feel like that at all. At first it like my mind is washed away in this wave of warm water. I can feel Motomiya . . . in my head . . . the touch of his mind against mine. He feels like sharp peppermint—goes through me, penetrates me. It's a . . . staggering sensation." He bit his lip. "But then . . . there's something else. It's so quiet, so soft against the completely enveloping feel of Motomiya that at first I thought I was imagining it. But I can feel it now . . . when I sleep. It's cold and hard and hollow and . . . black." His voice cracked. "It's me, Wormmon. That feeling when we jogress: that's my mind. That's what Motomiya feels from me. It's so . . . flat."

Wormmon blinked. "Did Daisuke-san tell you that?"

"He didn't have to tell me. I can feel it moving around inside me. Like spiders on my brain."

"Ken-chan." The digimon's face twisted slightly into his version of frown. "I—"

"I don't like it, Wormmon."

The virus sighed heavily. "This all started with the Jogress?"

A whisper. "No. It just came back with the Jogress. I had thought it was over after Oniisan died. It started a few months before that—things moving around in my head. It wasn't right. Oniisan said I was being silly."

"I think you should tell Daisuke-san."

"And alienate him too?" A sharp bark of bitter laughter broke the silence of the darkened room. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"But I don't think he would want to do it again if he didn't like it, Ken-chan," Wormmon insisted. "What about Takeru-san? You like Takeru-san, don't you? It didn't feel like that when you two did the triangle thing, did it?"

"No . . ." Ken frowned. "But that didn't have anything to do with digimon or our partner bonds. That was a much more superficial connection. It didn't go all through me like Motomiya's mind does. It was much different."

"Then talk to him. He's known Daisuke-san for a long time and you always seem to be able to relax more when you're talking to him." Wormmon nuzzled him. "Besides you haven't really talked to the others since the base was destroyed."

"Mmmm . . . I think I got an email this morning from Motomiya . . . I haven't checked it yet."

"Don't you want to know what it says?"

Ken yawned and his eyes lidded heavily. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Wormmon. I—I haven't been myself lately."

"I know, Ken." Solemn blue eyes watched his face carefully in the darkness. "It's okay. What about the email?"

The child shrugged and unfolded his legs beneath the blanket. "I'll get to it tomorrow, I guess. Can we go to sleep now?"

"Will you talk to Takeru-san?"

"I don't need to talk to Takeru-san!" he muttered irritably. "I need to go to sleep."

Wormmon balked. "You need to talk to someone, Ken-chan!" the little creature retorted as forcibly as he could muster.

There was a sound that sounded something like a growl in the darkness and Wormmon stiffened for a moment, unsure of what his boy was getting ready to do. Ken may not be the Kaiser anymore, but it still wasn't wise to goad him on. The digimon flinched as Ken raised his hand and pushed back his hair and cursed himself for the motion.

Ken didn't notice. "I'll talk to someone," he whispered quietly in the darkness. "May we go to sleep now?"

The little insect type heaved a surprisingly heavy sigh for such a small creature. "Yes, Ken-chan. We'll go to sleep now."

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