Disclaimer: No I do not own Digimon: Digital Monsters
Author's Note: This took forever, I know. It's the end to the second story arc, and is a bit weak because it marks the transition between two different states. It also marked the point where I tried to make my own characters bow out for a while, and leave the story in the hands of the DD. Especially since original characters will begin to appear in the next Episode.
Anyway, just so you remember, this story will be continued in a sequel titled
Acts of War: Holding the Line
I hope you can keep bearing with me.
Episode XXVI
Storming the Gates
I don't think we can get past them. Agumon muttered.
Tai was forced to nod in agreement.
They're just too many. Sora looked distressed. We need a plan.
Stand by. Battle Three to active position.
Point defense active.
All ready squadrons to launch position. Primary escorts detach.
Unit One to launch vector.
Command here. Assigning vectors now.
Weapons are free and live. Weapons are free and live.
Justice stood back and watched the machinery of war go to work. Outside the world was lit by the flashes of fire and death as the bombardment machinery belonging to Fourth Wing's siege team went to work. Huge rockets, containing tiny amounts of anti-matter, were thrown through the jump point, hopefully saturating defenses on the other side, pounding them into rubble. From the other side other missiles came back, both sides firing blind. So far the potent point-defense systems of Fourth Wing had kept the missiles coming through from the other side from causing severe damage, but that probably would not last.
On the screen there were flashes. A map of what were the last reported defenses of Cormere glinted, circles surrounding the areas currently being bombarded. Although it really did not matter as the success of this particular plan depended almost entirely on the Mjolnir weapon, the circles let the enemy know that he was coming in with a standard transit point assault.
Bombardment three has been hit.
Move them back. Justice pointed to a new position, and the crew nodded and went to work. He was immersed in memories of Cormere in more peaceful times, of the places around the transit point. The area had been covered with thick, lush pine forests before the Great War. Now it was covered with huge built-up defenses and warehouses for the volume of transited commerce that passed through there each year. It was an industrial site now, capable of refurbishing and rebuilding half the ships that came through there. Now, with the Light sitting here, it was more crowded than ever before. The various factions of the Dark had temporarily put aside their squabbles and assembled the troops they needed. The mountains would be covered with the shadows of hovering Dreadnaughts, Battleships and Supercarriers as the massive fleets of the Dark moved into support range of the vast network of fortifications covering the transit point. With the bombardment underway the grounds would be covered with soldiers, moving up to cover the transit point. Huge machines of war would be slowly moving out of their bunkers. And all the while the innocent, those caught helplessly in the path of war, seeing for themselves the terror that would descend upon them, would cower and offer up vain prayers for salvation.
Justice took a deep breath. The fate of a world hovered on his tongue. For a moment he felt the weight crushing down on him, the weight of responsibility, and the weight of duty. Such is the price one pays.
May God Forgive Me For What I Do This Day. An prayer, a request, a last gasp of sanity? It would be impossible to tell.
Launch Mjolnir.
So now what do we do? Tai asked quickly. Everyone looked completely clueless.
Well, at least the signal hasn't come yet. Izzy murmured, looking carefully at his screen. I think we should at least be grateful for that.
Couldn't Omnimon and ImperialDramon just clean them out? Yolei asked.
No. They'll have their hands full with Ravisher. TK responded, looking grimmer and grimmer.
And the whole world is hanging on this. Kari clutched TK's hand, seeking reassurance. She received little.
We've got to do something. Davis stared at the constantly shifting formations of enemy inside the room.
And then the question was made academic.
Nothing larger than two kilometers can go through a transit point. This is a fact, but it should be edited to say that nothing larger than two kilometers can go through a transit point in one piece. You can, for instance, build a four kilometer long floating fortress and pilot it through a transit point, but the resulting shifting of the fields inside a transit point will result in two or more pieces, each smaller than two kilometers going in random directions at the other end. Since soldiers dislike having about four kilometers and a hundred meters per second separating them from, say, their right arm, this is generally not a good way to assault a transit point.
Furthermore there is the possibility that a two segments going through a transit point at the same time, and being split, with a significant velocity, will intersect. It takes a precious second for something to materialize when it gets out of a transit point. Normally when you send a ship through the mechanics of a transit point displaces any matter in the area, creating a hole the size of the drive field to deposit the vessel in. However, in that second that it takes to materialize, if that ship and large amounts of matter intersect, the two materialize together.
Presumably this flagrant violation of the laws of physics and reality is extremely unpleasant. The truth is that nobody has survived long enough to give us a detailed explanation of what happens.
Behind the first line of Fourth Wing's ships an observer, accustomed to war in the Interconnected Worlds, would have noticed something odd. Almost a hundred capital ships, a huge amount of Fifth Wing's firepower, were being firmly anchored to the ground, drives pointed outward like giant cannons. Each ship was configured to unleash its drive field from a stationary position, not to push the ship forward, but to push something else back.
And there, in front of them, stood Mjolnir. Once Mjolnir had been known as Kran Coriak, a small uninhabited island of about thirty kilometers that had sat out in the deserted northern seas of Hammerhold. It had taken Fifth Wing's heavy dreadnaughts, acting with their full power almost a month to cut it lose from the ocean floor it had been hanging onto. From there it had taken Citadel's engineers, added by the great powers of the Light, almost a week to install the necessary equipment. Shield generators, drive field engine boxes, power plants, the whole works. Now the island hovered three hundred meters above the ground, a tremendous piece of a mountain range plucked from the landscape below, carried into position.
When they had named the project Mjolnir it had sounded like a bit of a joke. Now, with the multi-Megaton monolith hovering there, blotting out the sky, the joke was suddenly very, very real. People avoided looking at that monstrosity, avoided having anything to do with it. They scattered about now, pretending that they were expiencing a normalacy that no longer existed.
The drive fields of Fifth Wing flared. Massive engines, designed to push ships two kilometers in length, blasted to their utmost power. The raw force, distorted through the laws of physics, struck Mjolnir like a hammer, accelerating it, first slowly, then faster and faster toward the transit area. The mountain began to crack, began to fracture under the impact of the blasts from behind. The engines of the anchored ships began to glow white with the strain, power leads began to overheat, but they kept the force up, pushing farther and farther, with more and more power. Chunks of rock bigger than most apartment buildings fell off the accelerating monolith, but it kept going, faster and faster, until those in the front could feel, if not hear, it shrieking toward the transit point at a speed beyond belief.
The drive fields, the anti-friction layers, the massive force of Fifth Wing's ships all did their work. The massive mountain island known as Mjolnir struck the transit point at over a hundred times the speed of sound and disappeared into the fog of transit.
Cormere stood tall in the face of the Light. Vast armories churned constantly, adding more depth, more static defenses to the ring surrounding the transit point. That was the key. One of the few worlds to have a true constrained transit point facing the Light, one of the few whose defenses could be breached only by the heaviest of assaults. The warships gathered around the transit point knew that they had the strength to crush anything that came through, to destroy anything that moved by. There was no assaulting that transit point without overwhelming force. The rules of war agreed on that. So they waited for an attack that must come, but one they could face.
On the other side of the door somebody was rewriting the rules.
Mjolnir fractured on transit. Two kilometer long blocks of stone blasted out of the other end of the transit point at incredible speed, all going in different directions. Conservation of momentum retained the block of matter's incredible speed, and the ships who were watching only had a moment to realize what they had seen.
Most of the rock catapulted off in a thousand directions, bombarding far areas with sudden death and destruction. Huge boulders the size of football fields landed halfway across the planet, leaving gaping scars when they did. Death came in all sizes, all shapes. Only a tiny bit inter-materialized, emerged occupying the same space at the same time, reducing itself instantly to energy. Only a little bit.
Most of the matter escaped. Over two hundred thousand tons did not.
The gate shifted every so subtly. One moment it was filled with the swirling colors of interdimensional space. The next Izzy, who had been studying it intently, noticed a small fluctuation, and then a glowing speck of white.
Interdimensional space writhed. Every digivice in the room flared to life instantly, surrounding the digidestined with a temporary shield. Every digimon in the room, attracted by the sudden flare of light, turned their way. Eyes glowed red, teeth were bared, claws slid from sheaths.
The colors inside the gate heaved one more time. Then they went white.
Digimon did not even have time to scream, to yell, to even recognize. The white light was unstoppable, unbeatable, swifter than death had a right to be. All those who saw its glare, however briefly, however suddenly, that one moment of glaring whiteness, died. Light, like giant, huge spears of fire, like a rain of death, like the veritable hammer of God itself, came through the door. Everything it touched disappeared, first the flesh stripped from its bones, then even bones melted and disintegrated by the touch of death. Power, not beautiful, but savage and untamable, vicious beyond anything the digidestined had ever met, something so unstoppable that it saw even the most powerful as mere playtoys, raced by them. For a moment the digidestined knew death and it knew them. Then it faded, and slowly, carefully, their shields went down, leaving them standing there, amid what was now a stone slate, wiped clean of all life, sterilized by the most dangerous, deadly thing they had ever seen.
They were alone with death.
Then Ravisher descended from the ceiling. He had survived, but seemed diminished somehow. He was angry though. That much was clear.
And this time, unlike those other servents of the Dark, there was no contempt, no laughter. There was only a fierce burning hatred, something so dark and ugly that it seemed to drill right through them. And then Ravisher came for them.
Agumon...warp digivolves to...WarGreymon!
Gabumon...warp digivolves to...MetalGarurumon!
Veemon...digivolve to...ExVeemon!
Wormmon...digivolve to...Stingmon!
ExVeemon...Stingmon...DNA Digivolve to...Paildramon!
Paildramon...mega digivolve to...ImperialDramon!
ImperialDramon...mode change to...Fighter Mode!
WarGreymon...MetalGarurumon...Mega DNA Digivolve to...Omnimon!
There were two thuds as the two warriors stepped down onto the ground, weapons already rising to do battle with their opponent.
Black Spike! Times Two!
Transcendent Sword!
Positron Laser!
Fire and light clashed, rebounded, exploded, sending shards all around the building, or what was left of it. None of the digidestined noticed. All of them were already running toward the Gate. Izzy had his laptop out and started hitting buttons. He bent all his concentration to the task at hand.
Never before had he been this close to his computer. Now it felt like a part of him, a second body. He rapidly traced back the way that other gates had opened, following the information of the universe as it passed through electric lines, and beyond into the pulses and transformation of the worlds themselves. He could feel data change, flow, and he tried to match his skills to alter that of the Gate itself.
It was like holding onto a slippery eel. The energy patterns seemed inclined to dart just out of reach, and, belatedly, Izzy realized why. Whatever Citadel had done to burst open the defenses surrounding the Gate had done more than that. All of interdimensional space was blasted through, curling up and screaming like a wounded beast, trying to escape what was happening to it. Izzy cursed and hurridely tried to force his computer to force the leads back into the right place, and failed again.
What's wrong Izzy? Ken was at his shoulder, Scanner opened and buzzing, and Izzy could almost feel it, Ken's presence joining his own. Together the two geniuses peered through the chaos of space, trying to see the right path, the right combination to take them home.
Now what? Tai asked, as they watched the two geniuses.
I don't know. Sorcerymon looked behind them. There was a stalemate in the battle. Ravisher's anger and raw power matched by the concentrated efforts of the two Megas. As they watched Omnimon parried three blows with a sharp, edged weapon, while ImperialDramon circled, looking for a good shot at his opponent. For the moment the set of combatants seemed evenly matched. Ravisher was moving fast, drawing upon the death in the room, but his two opponents were well-disciplined and trained warriors, and refused to back down. They met each attack with their own, sending clashes of sparks fountaining up into the air.
C'mon, you've got to hurry. Yolei pleaded at them.
Izzy was barely aware of the words. He was barely aware of his fingers as they danced over the keys of his computer. He had heard of the term In the zone before, but this surpassed that by as far as it surpassed his normal mental state. In his mind electronic signals combined in an ever expanding network of signals and information. It was almost like he was dealing with raw information inside his brain instead of through the cultured and controlled interface of a computer.
His crest began to glow.
On the other side Ken was experiencing something else. A detachment from reality, a temporary leave of absence from the perils of his life. Inside of him a peculiar magic had begun to work, and it worked on the power from inside him, branching out through his fingers. He could feel the strands of human lives, almost like the strands of destiny and fate, weaving through his fingers. Slowly, carefully, he wove those pale lines back into the tapestry of time, and tried to trace their own threads back to their source, sending his questing fingers out to seek the home they all yearned for.
So what do we do to help? Kari knelt beside them, somehow piercing the strange world they were immersed in.
We need to find home before the Gate restabilizes. That means that what we actually have to do is work through all the chaos until we find something that looks like home, and then we open that Gate to there.
So if we all find home with our light, it will guide us? Kari asked. Izzy looked up, his confusion breaking through his concentration. And then sudden comprehension dawned.
Yes. Of course! That would work. Maybe the light from the digivices could guide us. Everybody! He turned to the others, who were watching confused. Hold up your digivices and think of home!
Will that work? Mimi asked incredulously, but she was already fumbling for her device. Behind her the sounds of battle continued.
I hope so! Ken responded, yanking his own device off of his belt.
It will. TK's voice was high and confident.
Tai held up his device and thought of home. His mind started thinking about his house, his home, that apartment building high in Japan, the view he could see out through the window. Then he floated through the streets of Odaiba and Tokyo beyond, drifting through the fields where he played soccer and watched others play baseball and softball, where he watched kids skateboard or ice skate in the winter, where he watched them rollerblade through the parks. He remembered summer evenings spent at the beach, waiting for the tide to come in, or to go out, or just waiting. He remembered late night soccer games with his friends, where they would play, covered with the smells of grass and dirt, splattered with mud, and sometimes with the water from the sprinklers under the harsh, glaring artificial light. He remembered times when they would go home and bunch up on someone's couch, hovering around the latest game that somebody had gotten, hitting buttons until their fingers grew numb. He remembered watching the sunset from the balcony.
Matt's memories were filled with music. From the first time he had touched the keys of a harmonica, to the last time that he had played the strings of his latest guitar, the riffs and gentle wails of music formed the world to him. His version of home was filled with sound, intermixed with brilliant lights. Sometimes, in the dream he lived, he would walk along the streets, maybe in Shinjuku or Ginza, or the more popular night districts as evening fell across the sky and listen to the sounds of music coming out of the clubs. There, through the mass of people that stood, jostling each other inside, or filling the streets with their exuberant celebration, he let the sounds intermix and fill the universal melody, gently and savagely playing the tunes to which all living things danced. He remembered once, from far away the sounds of him playing a harmonica in the light of a sunny afternoon with Mom, and Dad, and his brother, when all was right in the world.
Sora remembered home as feelings, tactile physical sensations. There were those her mother lived for, the feelings of the ground and the earth amidst the fingers, gently tantalizing the senses with its unknowability. Once she had thought her mother had joked when she told her daughter that she could literally recognize dozens of different plants through just touching them, running her hands over them. Now she could recognize the touch, the subtle difference between different types of stems that looked, from the outside, so similar. The soft feel of petals under her fingers, like the softest fabrics and the most gentle of silks, all of that combined to a new sensation. There were others there as well. The feel as her tennis racket smacked a ball out of the sky, the comforting thud as it made contact sending shivers up her arm. Then there was the different, but still comforting sensation of a soccer ball making contact with the kicking surfaces of her foot. The impact, the feel, the ability to describe her world by how it touched her, all of that blended into the image that was home.
Joe was surrounded by the image of his late night study sessions. Late at night, when the world closed in on him, he would often pause to look out the window of his apartment room and wonder if there was ever anything more beautiful than what was stretching away from him toward the horizon. His eyes would come to rest on each individual pearl of light from the city, whether they be carelessly forgotten office lights in tall buildings that rose to support the sky, or whether they were actually house lights, where some father might be reading his children a bedtime story, or perhaps a family watching some late-night television show. He would sit there, sometimes for an hour, his coffee growing cold at his elbow, his only surrender to sloth, watching spellbound as the lights passed in the night, the high, clear, glowing lights of passing airplanes heading for the airport, the slowly moving bright lights of boats moving across the harbor at night. From his apartment he could catch a glimpse of the Tokyo Fish Market across the bay, a place that never slept. He could watch the fog roll in and play with the towers of the bridges across the bay, blanketing their lights in gray fog. He watched and waited.
Yolei felt tossed and turned by the familiar sights of home. She did not think so much of her tiny apartment, cramped by her sisters, but rather of the store her family ran, of long hours spent packaging and recording information, helping their family get ahead in the world. In those hours she would sometimes sit and dream about what the packages meant, what the foods tasted like, and would let her attention wander. From the islands of the Mediterranean, where spices grew that ended up in packages sold in Japan, to the forests of South America, where they still harvested nuts and cocoa, to the huge coffee plantations of Columbia. Here and there the labels took her, across oceans and vast mountains, through regions far and exotic, where they brought pieces of plants and other things back to serve as ingredients in easily consumable foods. It was those mental journeys she found herself missing from home.
Mimi's mind's eye was blinded by glitter, by the constant changing in lights and the flashy gaudiness of her surroundings. She wandered through the fashion outlets, the malls, the popular stores of Ginza, the flashing lights and the blinding colors of the displays nearly blinding her, filling the world with gems of colors. There she was pacing the Ameyoko Street shops, perusing the latest treasures, some coming in from the farthest corners of the world, some homemade favorites. For a few moments she was pacing the vast electronics markets of Akihabara, perhaps looking for something that would match her latest outfit. Then there was the maze of stores that filled Shibuya, filling her time, her space, her life. In each of them it was not bargains that attracted her, but the sheer volume of material, of new ideas and innovations that awaited her, that lay hidden, waiting to be found by searching eyes. She lost herself among them, searching for the one buried treasure that nobody else had found.
Izzy was floating in a world of technology and science. His devices, both electronic and mechanical, floated by him like an ocean. He was in the video game trance, feeling input, not just through his senses, those mundane connections that were all most people had, but through his nerves into his very soul. He was at the center of an expanding web of information, and he was its undisputed master. It felt exhilirating, because there seemed to be nothing that he could not do. Any problem, any difficulty, he could overcome almost immediately. There was nothing that could stop him, perhaps not even something that could slow him down. His life was simple, there was him, shooting along like a star, and then there were things that tried to get in his way. He could overcome any problem, any obstacle, from safe in his own home. The love of his parents suffused this electronic utopia, and Izzy felt at peace.
Davis was in motion. For him home had not been his house, or where he lived, or school, but wherever he was in action. It was him, it consumed him, it was what he needed to survive, the constant thrill of being able to change, being able to transform himself into a doer, not a follower. Sometimes he was on the soccer field, watching balls speed toward him and then redirecting them as he choose. There he was king, able to direct the motion of every iota of his being, controlling the fate of the ball, the game and the other players. As he moved, as action melded and shaped itself around him, as the world disappeared in a blur of motion, he became alive. The blood pumping through his veins invigorated him, restoring him to life, changing his world.
Ken felt the whirl and dance as his world was also defined by movement. However, for him home was not in his movement, that was not what he was, where he lived, but rather in the movement of others. Sometimes, when he had nothing to do, when the mad rush of homework and soccer and everything else had fallen apart, when he was himself again, he would stand on the street corners near his house, or look out his window, and watch life shoot by him. He enjoyed being able to stand there, watching and waiting for life to pass him by. Sometimes he would count the cars as they zoomed off, a thousand lives moving in individual tracks. From his window he could watch as every individual current in the great sea of humanity took its own way home. And then, his curiousity satisfied, his need to see where people were going, what they were doing, their sheer numbers stunning him, he would return to his desk. Return to his work, or his practice or whatever and ignore them. But he was always aware, no matter where he was, of the bustling people outside, the vast sea of people who flooded by him, each with their own lives, their own purpose, their own flaws. It was immersion in that vast ocean that made him glad to be who he was.
Cody took a moment to imagine the feel of his grandfather's rooms, the practice room at the dojo, the rooms in the house where he spent most of his time, sometimes admiring the gleam of light off of the golden trophies from his grandfather's younger days, sometimes watching the wind play with the ornaments. Then there was the moment of truth, that moment when he stood, bracing the floor in the dojo, his hands, sometimes sweaty and shaking, sometimes perfectly calm, holding the shinai in a grip of iron, the rough feel of the tsuba against his hands. There was the feeling of the armor, clutching around his waist and his body, shielding him, containing him and holding him inside. Once he even had felt his grandfather's katana, a weapon never to be used in kendo, from the same stance. That moment, when the world narrowed down, when it became, instead of a wide and wonderous place, full of many different things a very narrow slip of land down which he was advancing, where there was only him and his opponent, that moment was special. Suddenly things ceased to be confusing, fear ceased to be an issue, there was only him and the other person, only the subtle hints of muscle and position, only those moments when people stood still or moved forward, only that one action. Here Cody was at home.
TK and Kari looked at each other briefly, and then quietly, as they had done before, too many times to count, let the power that lay dormant inside of their hearts flow out in a rush. It did not rise beyond their hearts, but they did not need it to. They were seeking this time, not seeking to change reality. They were caught in its current, the wellsprings of a tremendous power, but they were only the ways through which it entered the world, nothing more, nothing less. The fire flowed down from then, and then blasted out into the world around them. Together the beams of light joined up with light from the crests of the other digidestined, and shone through the fog of the Gate, like a signal beacon from afar, illuminating everything, a beam of light cutting the darkness.
You are the Guide. A voice whispered inside of Kari's head. It is your task to Guide those who are lost back to the Light that embraces all. Light is just that, a guide. Remember that and cherish it, and let your Light draw the worthy home.
And then Izzy reached out with hands forged of mental might rather than flesh and blood, reaching for the power, and found their way home.
The Gate flared white. For a moment it seemed to explode again, and then they were looking into the familiar swirling light of their first gateway trip.
We've got it! Tai screamed exuberantly.
Good, because we can't keep this up much longer. Omnimon grunted from behind them. Astonished, they looked around at the scene that their fascination with home had permitted them to overlook.
Omnimon was still holding Ravisher even, sword to sword, but his muscles were shaking. Veemon and Wormmon were crawling over the ground toward their human companions.
What happened? Tai asked.
He had a few aces up his sleeve. Omnimon grunted. There was a moment when it looked like their guards might shift again. Then they stabilized, Ravisher steadily pressing down on his opponent. We've got a problem here folks.
No kidding. Matt whispered back.
Everyone else through the gate. TK barked, pointing. We have to get back.
We can't leave Tai and Matt here by themselves. Mimi protested, wringing her hands.
The hell you can't! Tai exploded suddenly. Someone has to get back, has to warn the others, has to save the world. We're only two people. Billions of lives might be at stake here, and you're the only ones who might be able to help.
We need to cover your retreat. Matt yelled.
Sora stood there for a moment, and then, cradling Biyomon in her arms, she bowed very low, very formally, and entered the swirling lights of the Gate, disappearing in a flash of white light. A moment later Joe and Gomamon, also bowing to the two leaders, disappeared into the turmoil. Mimi, eyes wet with tears, jumped through with Palmon right behind her. Davis walked by, paused, and then clasped both boys' shoulders wordlessly, before hurling himself through the Gate with Veemon clasped in one arm. Yolei smiled at them, but her eyes looked wet too, and then she walked very calmly and very gracefully straight through the glowing door. Izzy finished packing up his computer and walked through very straight, giving them one last backwards glance as he vanished into the infinite beyond.
You've got to come. We need you. Ken whispered. But the two older boys shook their heads.
We're sorry Ken, but not this time. Someone needs to protect you guys. Tai smiled back, but his eyes were shining with water. We'll see you again when the war is over.
And then Ken was gone. Cody looked at them one last time, and then, decisively and resolutely he turned around and passed through the white light back to home. And then it was only brothers and sisters.
For a moment it looked as if they might all break out crying, but then Tai and Matt were surprised as their siblings came over and looked at them calmly. They looked quiet, as if they had accepted this fate, and then they both smiled.
Good luck. They said at once, voices quiet and controlled and proud, as if they were parents watching the fruits of their children burst out into full flower. Then they turned and headed for the Gate. There was a flash as they both entered, and then the light in the Gate began to shrink steadily, and Tai and Matt watched their last chance of going home disappear.
There was a streak of white, a flash of light, and then Sorcerymon was there. He was facing a creature so far beyond Mega that it defied description, but he was a powerful Champion, and he had stored up all his rage for this single moment of vengence, when he could finally help undo the evil that Khartan had done to his world. Power blazed from him like a star, all of his power, not as an attack but as a blind release, and he channeled all his hope, all the great power of his sacrifice into a blast that should have shattered the world.
His body glowed white for a moment, and then faded, collapsing back into its normal state like a candle that, for one moment, resembled the sun, and then faded into blackness. He slumped to the ground, spent and unconscious.
Ravisher staggered back, blinded and deafened by that impact, tossed backwards like a rag doll. There was a force behind it that defied description, as if the last sacrifice of the Champion had given up more than he had ever posessed. And then in a moment, while he was reeling, Omnimon was upon him.
Transcendent Sword! And light flashed to life again. Silver fire burned down the great rune-inscribed length of the invincible sword, and then it buried itself inside Ravisher's dark soul. The creature of darkness tilted his head back to the heavens and made one last despairing scream, but the heavens rejected him, and he collapsed into a limp heap, dust forgotten in the path of the world.
As Omnimon returned to Koromon and Tsunumon, Tai and Matt rushed over to where Sorcerymon lay, already his eyes fading, turning hard and cold instead of warm and full of life. His body was broken, his life spent, but he still retained enough power to speak to them.
Go! Go home. The words came out as a croak. Save your world. And then, with strength he should not have possessed, he grabbed Tai's shirt by the collar and pulled him closer. Avenge mine! He hissed, and at this he passed along all the fervor that had driven and sustained him all these years.
Tai and Matt both nodded. They said no words, but no words were necessary. It was a promise more binding than steel, harder then diamond, and they all knew it. And then Sorcerymon released Tai's shirt, surrendered his battle and let death claim him, and take him back to his comrades of long ago. The last expression he had on his face, as digital decay took him was a faint smile, the last thing reflected in his eyes was a kind face that Tai did not recognize. And then he was gone.
C'mon Tai. Let's go home. Matt whispered.
The Gate! Koromon shouted. It's almost closed!
The Leonidas stopped over the barren plain, its viewscreens, its crew surveying a scene from their worst nightmare. When the flare of light had come through the transit point they had known, and they had been prepared, but nothing could have prepared them for this. Buildings, hardened fortifications, ships, troops, all had been eradicated by that blast.
Even worse the explosion had done more environmental damage than physical. Three nearby mountain ranges had been eradicated, blasted down into gravel. The entire area was now a desolate plain, nothing but melted ground and blasted rock visible for kilometers, for as far as the eye could see. Where things had once grown, where children once might have played, it was all gone.
We got them. Courage whispered.
Justice responded, but his voice was hollow and cold and empty.
So now what? Gennai asked.
I suppose we go ahead with the plan. Justice sighed. I had wished that it had not had to end like this, but so it goes...
Light said nothing, but came close and slipped her arm around Justice's shoulders, stabilizing them as something peculiarly like a sob escaped him.
So now what? Knowledge looked downcast. After all it had taken Justice and him working together to create this weapon of destruction.
We attack. Justice had managed to get himself under control. We can take every world with checkpoint abilities within five transits of Cormere. I happen to know for a fact that most of their mobile forces were here, defending against us, and most of their resources were also here, prepared for out attack. Every mobile unit and every spare defense within about ten transits just got reduced to slag and burned to ashes. With Fifth Wing's support we can take as far as we want.
At which point they gather up their forces and prepare a counterattack. Knowledge reminded him gently.
We know that Cortell. Justice responded absently. But we desperately need that time. Time to stabilize the situation, to dig in, to fortify our positions. We have just, at a stroke, liberated almost fifty worlds counting the isolated ones off the main transit axis. Fifty! We need to dig in on all those worlds, change their governments, chase out enemy supporters. But especially we need to dig in and prepare for a counterattack. We need time to erect our own fortifications, deploy our own weapons. We need to buy that time for ourselves, and we just did. It will take them months to build up enough forces out of their shipyards to counterattack, which means that we have months to put our battle plans into motion.
So we bought ourselves enough time? Light asked hopefully.
You know we bought ourselves time. I just don't know how much. Justice responded.
You know that I'm worried about waiting for them to come to us. Gennai repeated. We need better information on this.
Well, I don't like it either. But we don't have the manpower for a full fledged conquest. Besides, they've wasted too much energy setting things up nicely on Earth. I'm convinced that their assault on Earth will come before their real attack here.
On your head be it. Gennai intoned and the two men nodded, returning to their study of what was once green and fruitful, and was now merely desolation incarnate.
Space and time, eternity and infinity twisted and warped around them, and then, like some primordial beast, rising from the pools of eternity between the distant stars, snaked upwards and finally deposited them. Their ears still rang with the sound of unearthly thunders, their eyes still covered with the multi-colored fireworks that had so recently been flung past them, but gradually the rainbow of colors faded and the familiar sight of dirt, grass, concrete and the growth of living things confronted them, filling their vision. Wherever they had intended to go, they were left in a copse of bushes that effectively shielded them from outside view.
Sora blinked and rose from the ground, still trying to clear the cobwebs out of her skull. For once in her life she could honestly say that everything hurt, and it hurt just about equally. Fortunately the pain began to diminish almost immediately, as if her body had been sick and tired of being tossed about in the void between worlds, and was happy to be back on a solid planet again. Around her other crumpled figures, with an astonishing variety of groans and moans, began to lift themselves off of the ground, shaking heads and blinking eyes as if the world around them was a strange creature that they no longer understood themselves.
Where are we now? Izzy murmured, his shaking hand failing to unlock his laptop correctly.
I'm not sure. That was Yolei, slowly managing to stagger upright. I hope we got to the right place.
Davis reached over to the bush closest to him and managed to part its branches, staring through them, eyes adjusting to the new sunlight.
There, spanning the massive waters of the bay, was Rainbow Bridge, overshadowing the park they were in. The huge bulk of a large container transport was visible off to another side, probably heading to Yokohama. And above there was the roar of a passenger jet, screaming against the atmosphere as it began its approach to Tokyo-Haneda International Airport. The wind blew in, fresh from the ocean as the familiar Tokyo skyscape reasserted itself.
Where are we? Ken asked groggily.
Davis had never felt so glad to be home in his life.
Izzy had managed to get his computer open and was checking something. It looks like we arrived in time. Business as usual according to the news sites.
We lost Tai and Matt. Sora's voice sounded very soft, and suddenly everyone fell silent.
TK stood up. He was smiling. You know those two. He laughed suddenly, and they all perked up. They'll turn up sooner or later. He looked up with a glimmer in his eye at that.
There was a thud as something slammed into the tree that sheltered the copse of bushes, then another thud, then a pair of lighter thuds. This was followed by a few cracking noises, and Tai and Matt, Koromon and Tsunomon fell out of the tree on top of the other digidestined. They both looked even more frazzled, Matt's hair was filled with twigs, and TK swore that a piece of Tai's was actually smoking, but they appeared to be none the worse for the wear.
We made it back. Izzy greeted Tai's almost incoherent question.
There was a croak as Tai tried to speak. The leader stopped, consciously wetted his throat and then spoke in a dry voice. I never doubted us for a second.
And it looks like there's a world here to welcome us home. Cody looked around and breathed in the beautiful taste of the air.
Any sign of Khartan? Tai sounded stronger.
Izzy kept typing on the computer. Even if he's been here longer than we have, he's doing a pretty good job of hiding from us. Either he hasn't been here long enough to do anything, or he's up to something.
Probably up to something. Matt shrugged. But then again, what else do villains do with their time anyway?
So what's the plan? TK asked.
The same plan we always have. Tai responded decisively. We stop him cold.
Send the alert. Ken whispered to Izzy. Go to Phase One now.
Already done. Izzy replied. Even if they neutralize us, if they want a war, they've come to the right place.
They're coming all right. Ken murmured.
Thanks for reading! Remember to review! I'll see you in Acts of War: Holding the Line.
-danAlwyn
Author's Note: This took forever, I know. It's the end to the second story arc, and is a bit weak because it marks the transition between two different states. It also marked the point where I tried to make my own characters bow out for a while, and leave the story in the hands of the DD. Especially since original characters will begin to appear in the next Episode.
Anyway, just so you remember, this story will be continued in a sequel titled
Acts of War: Holding the Line
I hope you can keep bearing with me.
Storming the Gates
Tai was forced to nod in agreement.
They're just too many. Sora looked distressed. We need a plan.
Stand by. Battle Three to active position.
Point defense active.
All ready squadrons to launch position. Primary escorts detach.
Unit One to launch vector.
Command here. Assigning vectors now.
Weapons are free and live. Weapons are free and live.
Justice stood back and watched the machinery of war go to work. Outside the world was lit by the flashes of fire and death as the bombardment machinery belonging to Fourth Wing's siege team went to work. Huge rockets, containing tiny amounts of anti-matter, were thrown through the jump point, hopefully saturating defenses on the other side, pounding them into rubble. From the other side other missiles came back, both sides firing blind. So far the potent point-defense systems of Fourth Wing had kept the missiles coming through from the other side from causing severe damage, but that probably would not last.
On the screen there were flashes. A map of what were the last reported defenses of Cormere glinted, circles surrounding the areas currently being bombarded. Although it really did not matter as the success of this particular plan depended almost entirely on the Mjolnir weapon, the circles let the enemy know that he was coming in with a standard transit point assault.
Bombardment three has been hit.
Move them back. Justice pointed to a new position, and the crew nodded and went to work. He was immersed in memories of Cormere in more peaceful times, of the places around the transit point. The area had been covered with thick, lush pine forests before the Great War. Now it was covered with huge built-up defenses and warehouses for the volume of transited commerce that passed through there each year. It was an industrial site now, capable of refurbishing and rebuilding half the ships that came through there. Now, with the Light sitting here, it was more crowded than ever before. The various factions of the Dark had temporarily put aside their squabbles and assembled the troops they needed. The mountains would be covered with the shadows of hovering Dreadnaughts, Battleships and Supercarriers as the massive fleets of the Dark moved into support range of the vast network of fortifications covering the transit point. With the bombardment underway the grounds would be covered with soldiers, moving up to cover the transit point. Huge machines of war would be slowly moving out of their bunkers. And all the while the innocent, those caught helplessly in the path of war, seeing for themselves the terror that would descend upon them, would cower and offer up vain prayers for salvation.
Justice took a deep breath. The fate of a world hovered on his tongue. For a moment he felt the weight crushing down on him, the weight of responsibility, and the weight of duty. Such is the price one pays.
May God Forgive Me For What I Do This Day. An prayer, a request, a last gasp of sanity? It would be impossible to tell.
Launch Mjolnir.
So now what do we do? Tai asked quickly. Everyone looked completely clueless.
Well, at least the signal hasn't come yet. Izzy murmured, looking carefully at his screen. I think we should at least be grateful for that.
Couldn't Omnimon and ImperialDramon just clean them out? Yolei asked.
No. They'll have their hands full with Ravisher. TK responded, looking grimmer and grimmer.
And the whole world is hanging on this. Kari clutched TK's hand, seeking reassurance. She received little.
We've got to do something. Davis stared at the constantly shifting formations of enemy inside the room.
And then the question was made academic.
Nothing larger than two kilometers can go through a transit point. This is a fact, but it should be edited to say that nothing larger than two kilometers can go through a transit point in one piece. You can, for instance, build a four kilometer long floating fortress and pilot it through a transit point, but the resulting shifting of the fields inside a transit point will result in two or more pieces, each smaller than two kilometers going in random directions at the other end. Since soldiers dislike having about four kilometers and a hundred meters per second separating them from, say, their right arm, this is generally not a good way to assault a transit point.
Furthermore there is the possibility that a two segments going through a transit point at the same time, and being split, with a significant velocity, will intersect. It takes a precious second for something to materialize when it gets out of a transit point. Normally when you send a ship through the mechanics of a transit point displaces any matter in the area, creating a hole the size of the drive field to deposit the vessel in. However, in that second that it takes to materialize, if that ship and large amounts of matter intersect, the two materialize together.
Presumably this flagrant violation of the laws of physics and reality is extremely unpleasant. The truth is that nobody has survived long enough to give us a detailed explanation of what happens.
Behind the first line of Fourth Wing's ships an observer, accustomed to war in the Interconnected Worlds, would have noticed something odd. Almost a hundred capital ships, a huge amount of Fifth Wing's firepower, were being firmly anchored to the ground, drives pointed outward like giant cannons. Each ship was configured to unleash its drive field from a stationary position, not to push the ship forward, but to push something else back.
And there, in front of them, stood Mjolnir. Once Mjolnir had been known as Kran Coriak, a small uninhabited island of about thirty kilometers that had sat out in the deserted northern seas of Hammerhold. It had taken Fifth Wing's heavy dreadnaughts, acting with their full power almost a month to cut it lose from the ocean floor it had been hanging onto. From there it had taken Citadel's engineers, added by the great powers of the Light, almost a week to install the necessary equipment. Shield generators, drive field engine boxes, power plants, the whole works. Now the island hovered three hundred meters above the ground, a tremendous piece of a mountain range plucked from the landscape below, carried into position.
When they had named the project Mjolnir it had sounded like a bit of a joke. Now, with the multi-Megaton monolith hovering there, blotting out the sky, the joke was suddenly very, very real. People avoided looking at that monstrosity, avoided having anything to do with it. They scattered about now, pretending that they were expiencing a normalacy that no longer existed.
The drive fields of Fifth Wing flared. Massive engines, designed to push ships two kilometers in length, blasted to their utmost power. The raw force, distorted through the laws of physics, struck Mjolnir like a hammer, accelerating it, first slowly, then faster and faster toward the transit area. The mountain began to crack, began to fracture under the impact of the blasts from behind. The engines of the anchored ships began to glow white with the strain, power leads began to overheat, but they kept the force up, pushing farther and farther, with more and more power. Chunks of rock bigger than most apartment buildings fell off the accelerating monolith, but it kept going, faster and faster, until those in the front could feel, if not hear, it shrieking toward the transit point at a speed beyond belief.
The drive fields, the anti-friction layers, the massive force of Fifth Wing's ships all did their work. The massive mountain island known as Mjolnir struck the transit point at over a hundred times the speed of sound and disappeared into the fog of transit.
Cormere stood tall in the face of the Light. Vast armories churned constantly, adding more depth, more static defenses to the ring surrounding the transit point. That was the key. One of the few worlds to have a true constrained transit point facing the Light, one of the few whose defenses could be breached only by the heaviest of assaults. The warships gathered around the transit point knew that they had the strength to crush anything that came through, to destroy anything that moved by. There was no assaulting that transit point without overwhelming force. The rules of war agreed on that. So they waited for an attack that must come, but one they could face.
On the other side of the door somebody was rewriting the rules.
Mjolnir fractured on transit. Two kilometer long blocks of stone blasted out of the other end of the transit point at incredible speed, all going in different directions. Conservation of momentum retained the block of matter's incredible speed, and the ships who were watching only had a moment to realize what they had seen.
Most of the rock catapulted off in a thousand directions, bombarding far areas with sudden death and destruction. Huge boulders the size of football fields landed halfway across the planet, leaving gaping scars when they did. Death came in all sizes, all shapes. Only a tiny bit inter-materialized, emerged occupying the same space at the same time, reducing itself instantly to energy. Only a little bit.
Most of the matter escaped. Over two hundred thousand tons did not.
The gate shifted every so subtly. One moment it was filled with the swirling colors of interdimensional space. The next Izzy, who had been studying it intently, noticed a small fluctuation, and then a glowing speck of white.
Interdimensional space writhed. Every digivice in the room flared to life instantly, surrounding the digidestined with a temporary shield. Every digimon in the room, attracted by the sudden flare of light, turned their way. Eyes glowed red, teeth were bared, claws slid from sheaths.
The colors inside the gate heaved one more time. Then they went white.
Digimon did not even have time to scream, to yell, to even recognize. The white light was unstoppable, unbeatable, swifter than death had a right to be. All those who saw its glare, however briefly, however suddenly, that one moment of glaring whiteness, died. Light, like giant, huge spears of fire, like a rain of death, like the veritable hammer of God itself, came through the door. Everything it touched disappeared, first the flesh stripped from its bones, then even bones melted and disintegrated by the touch of death. Power, not beautiful, but savage and untamable, vicious beyond anything the digidestined had ever met, something so unstoppable that it saw even the most powerful as mere playtoys, raced by them. For a moment the digidestined knew death and it knew them. Then it faded, and slowly, carefully, their shields went down, leaving them standing there, amid what was now a stone slate, wiped clean of all life, sterilized by the most dangerous, deadly thing they had ever seen.
They were alone with death.
Then Ravisher descended from the ceiling. He had survived, but seemed diminished somehow. He was angry though. That much was clear.
And this time, unlike those other servents of the Dark, there was no contempt, no laughter. There was only a fierce burning hatred, something so dark and ugly that it seemed to drill right through them. And then Ravisher came for them.
Agumon...warp digivolves to...WarGreymon!
Gabumon...warp digivolves to...MetalGarurumon!
Veemon...digivolve to...ExVeemon!
Wormmon...digivolve to...Stingmon!
ExVeemon...Stingmon...DNA Digivolve to...Paildramon!
Paildramon...mega digivolve to...ImperialDramon!
ImperialDramon...mode change to...Fighter Mode!
WarGreymon...MetalGarurumon...Mega DNA Digivolve to...Omnimon!
There were two thuds as the two warriors stepped down onto the ground, weapons already rising to do battle with their opponent.
Black Spike! Times Two!
Transcendent Sword!
Positron Laser!
Fire and light clashed, rebounded, exploded, sending shards all around the building, or what was left of it. None of the digidestined noticed. All of them were already running toward the Gate. Izzy had his laptop out and started hitting buttons. He bent all his concentration to the task at hand.
Never before had he been this close to his computer. Now it felt like a part of him, a second body. He rapidly traced back the way that other gates had opened, following the information of the universe as it passed through electric lines, and beyond into the pulses and transformation of the worlds themselves. He could feel data change, flow, and he tried to match his skills to alter that of the Gate itself.
It was like holding onto a slippery eel. The energy patterns seemed inclined to dart just out of reach, and, belatedly, Izzy realized why. Whatever Citadel had done to burst open the defenses surrounding the Gate had done more than that. All of interdimensional space was blasted through, curling up and screaming like a wounded beast, trying to escape what was happening to it. Izzy cursed and hurridely tried to force his computer to force the leads back into the right place, and failed again.
What's wrong Izzy? Ken was at his shoulder, Scanner opened and buzzing, and Izzy could almost feel it, Ken's presence joining his own. Together the two geniuses peered through the chaos of space, trying to see the right path, the right combination to take them home.
Now what? Tai asked, as they watched the two geniuses.
I don't know. Sorcerymon looked behind them. There was a stalemate in the battle. Ravisher's anger and raw power matched by the concentrated efforts of the two Megas. As they watched Omnimon parried three blows with a sharp, edged weapon, while ImperialDramon circled, looking for a good shot at his opponent. For the moment the set of combatants seemed evenly matched. Ravisher was moving fast, drawing upon the death in the room, but his two opponents were well-disciplined and trained warriors, and refused to back down. They met each attack with their own, sending clashes of sparks fountaining up into the air.
C'mon, you've got to hurry. Yolei pleaded at them.
Izzy was barely aware of the words. He was barely aware of his fingers as they danced over the keys of his computer. He had heard of the term In the zone before, but this surpassed that by as far as it surpassed his normal mental state. In his mind electronic signals combined in an ever expanding network of signals and information. It was almost like he was dealing with raw information inside his brain instead of through the cultured and controlled interface of a computer.
His crest began to glow.
On the other side Ken was experiencing something else. A detachment from reality, a temporary leave of absence from the perils of his life. Inside of him a peculiar magic had begun to work, and it worked on the power from inside him, branching out through his fingers. He could feel the strands of human lives, almost like the strands of destiny and fate, weaving through his fingers. Slowly, carefully, he wove those pale lines back into the tapestry of time, and tried to trace their own threads back to their source, sending his questing fingers out to seek the home they all yearned for.
So what do we do to help? Kari knelt beside them, somehow piercing the strange world they were immersed in.
We need to find home before the Gate restabilizes. That means that what we actually have to do is work through all the chaos until we find something that looks like home, and then we open that Gate to there.
So if we all find home with our light, it will guide us? Kari asked. Izzy looked up, his confusion breaking through his concentration. And then sudden comprehension dawned.
Yes. Of course! That would work. Maybe the light from the digivices could guide us. Everybody! He turned to the others, who were watching confused. Hold up your digivices and think of home!
Will that work? Mimi asked incredulously, but she was already fumbling for her device. Behind her the sounds of battle continued.
I hope so! Ken responded, yanking his own device off of his belt.
It will. TK's voice was high and confident.
Tai held up his device and thought of home. His mind started thinking about his house, his home, that apartment building high in Japan, the view he could see out through the window. Then he floated through the streets of Odaiba and Tokyo beyond, drifting through the fields where he played soccer and watched others play baseball and softball, where he watched kids skateboard or ice skate in the winter, where he watched them rollerblade through the parks. He remembered summer evenings spent at the beach, waiting for the tide to come in, or to go out, or just waiting. He remembered late night soccer games with his friends, where they would play, covered with the smells of grass and dirt, splattered with mud, and sometimes with the water from the sprinklers under the harsh, glaring artificial light. He remembered times when they would go home and bunch up on someone's couch, hovering around the latest game that somebody had gotten, hitting buttons until their fingers grew numb. He remembered watching the sunset from the balcony.
Matt's memories were filled with music. From the first time he had touched the keys of a harmonica, to the last time that he had played the strings of his latest guitar, the riffs and gentle wails of music formed the world to him. His version of home was filled with sound, intermixed with brilliant lights. Sometimes, in the dream he lived, he would walk along the streets, maybe in Shinjuku or Ginza, or the more popular night districts as evening fell across the sky and listen to the sounds of music coming out of the clubs. There, through the mass of people that stood, jostling each other inside, or filling the streets with their exuberant celebration, he let the sounds intermix and fill the universal melody, gently and savagely playing the tunes to which all living things danced. He remembered once, from far away the sounds of him playing a harmonica in the light of a sunny afternoon with Mom, and Dad, and his brother, when all was right in the world.
Sora remembered home as feelings, tactile physical sensations. There were those her mother lived for, the feelings of the ground and the earth amidst the fingers, gently tantalizing the senses with its unknowability. Once she had thought her mother had joked when she told her daughter that she could literally recognize dozens of different plants through just touching them, running her hands over them. Now she could recognize the touch, the subtle difference between different types of stems that looked, from the outside, so similar. The soft feel of petals under her fingers, like the softest fabrics and the most gentle of silks, all of that combined to a new sensation. There were others there as well. The feel as her tennis racket smacked a ball out of the sky, the comforting thud as it made contact sending shivers up her arm. Then there was the different, but still comforting sensation of a soccer ball making contact with the kicking surfaces of her foot. The impact, the feel, the ability to describe her world by how it touched her, all of that blended into the image that was home.
Joe was surrounded by the image of his late night study sessions. Late at night, when the world closed in on him, he would often pause to look out the window of his apartment room and wonder if there was ever anything more beautiful than what was stretching away from him toward the horizon. His eyes would come to rest on each individual pearl of light from the city, whether they be carelessly forgotten office lights in tall buildings that rose to support the sky, or whether they were actually house lights, where some father might be reading his children a bedtime story, or perhaps a family watching some late-night television show. He would sit there, sometimes for an hour, his coffee growing cold at his elbow, his only surrender to sloth, watching spellbound as the lights passed in the night, the high, clear, glowing lights of passing airplanes heading for the airport, the slowly moving bright lights of boats moving across the harbor at night. From his apartment he could catch a glimpse of the Tokyo Fish Market across the bay, a place that never slept. He could watch the fog roll in and play with the towers of the bridges across the bay, blanketing their lights in gray fog. He watched and waited.
Yolei felt tossed and turned by the familiar sights of home. She did not think so much of her tiny apartment, cramped by her sisters, but rather of the store her family ran, of long hours spent packaging and recording information, helping their family get ahead in the world. In those hours she would sometimes sit and dream about what the packages meant, what the foods tasted like, and would let her attention wander. From the islands of the Mediterranean, where spices grew that ended up in packages sold in Japan, to the forests of South America, where they still harvested nuts and cocoa, to the huge coffee plantations of Columbia. Here and there the labels took her, across oceans and vast mountains, through regions far and exotic, where they brought pieces of plants and other things back to serve as ingredients in easily consumable foods. It was those mental journeys she found herself missing from home.
Mimi's mind's eye was blinded by glitter, by the constant changing in lights and the flashy gaudiness of her surroundings. She wandered through the fashion outlets, the malls, the popular stores of Ginza, the flashing lights and the blinding colors of the displays nearly blinding her, filling the world with gems of colors. There she was pacing the Ameyoko Street shops, perusing the latest treasures, some coming in from the farthest corners of the world, some homemade favorites. For a few moments she was pacing the vast electronics markets of Akihabara, perhaps looking for something that would match her latest outfit. Then there was the maze of stores that filled Shibuya, filling her time, her space, her life. In each of them it was not bargains that attracted her, but the sheer volume of material, of new ideas and innovations that awaited her, that lay hidden, waiting to be found by searching eyes. She lost herself among them, searching for the one buried treasure that nobody else had found.
Izzy was floating in a world of technology and science. His devices, both electronic and mechanical, floated by him like an ocean. He was in the video game trance, feeling input, not just through his senses, those mundane connections that were all most people had, but through his nerves into his very soul. He was at the center of an expanding web of information, and he was its undisputed master. It felt exhilirating, because there seemed to be nothing that he could not do. Any problem, any difficulty, he could overcome almost immediately. There was nothing that could stop him, perhaps not even something that could slow him down. His life was simple, there was him, shooting along like a star, and then there were things that tried to get in his way. He could overcome any problem, any obstacle, from safe in his own home. The love of his parents suffused this electronic utopia, and Izzy felt at peace.
Davis was in motion. For him home had not been his house, or where he lived, or school, but wherever he was in action. It was him, it consumed him, it was what he needed to survive, the constant thrill of being able to change, being able to transform himself into a doer, not a follower. Sometimes he was on the soccer field, watching balls speed toward him and then redirecting them as he choose. There he was king, able to direct the motion of every iota of his being, controlling the fate of the ball, the game and the other players. As he moved, as action melded and shaped itself around him, as the world disappeared in a blur of motion, he became alive. The blood pumping through his veins invigorated him, restoring him to life, changing his world.
Ken felt the whirl and dance as his world was also defined by movement. However, for him home was not in his movement, that was not what he was, where he lived, but rather in the movement of others. Sometimes, when he had nothing to do, when the mad rush of homework and soccer and everything else had fallen apart, when he was himself again, he would stand on the street corners near his house, or look out his window, and watch life shoot by him. He enjoyed being able to stand there, watching and waiting for life to pass him by. Sometimes he would count the cars as they zoomed off, a thousand lives moving in individual tracks. From his window he could watch as every individual current in the great sea of humanity took its own way home. And then, his curiousity satisfied, his need to see where people were going, what they were doing, their sheer numbers stunning him, he would return to his desk. Return to his work, or his practice or whatever and ignore them. But he was always aware, no matter where he was, of the bustling people outside, the vast sea of people who flooded by him, each with their own lives, their own purpose, their own flaws. It was immersion in that vast ocean that made him glad to be who he was.
Cody took a moment to imagine the feel of his grandfather's rooms, the practice room at the dojo, the rooms in the house where he spent most of his time, sometimes admiring the gleam of light off of the golden trophies from his grandfather's younger days, sometimes watching the wind play with the ornaments. Then there was the moment of truth, that moment when he stood, bracing the floor in the dojo, his hands, sometimes sweaty and shaking, sometimes perfectly calm, holding the shinai in a grip of iron, the rough feel of the tsuba against his hands. There was the feeling of the armor, clutching around his waist and his body, shielding him, containing him and holding him inside. Once he even had felt his grandfather's katana, a weapon never to be used in kendo, from the same stance. That moment, when the world narrowed down, when it became, instead of a wide and wonderous place, full of many different things a very narrow slip of land down which he was advancing, where there was only him and his opponent, that moment was special. Suddenly things ceased to be confusing, fear ceased to be an issue, there was only him and the other person, only the subtle hints of muscle and position, only those moments when people stood still or moved forward, only that one action. Here Cody was at home.
TK and Kari looked at each other briefly, and then quietly, as they had done before, too many times to count, let the power that lay dormant inside of their hearts flow out in a rush. It did not rise beyond their hearts, but they did not need it to. They were seeking this time, not seeking to change reality. They were caught in its current, the wellsprings of a tremendous power, but they were only the ways through which it entered the world, nothing more, nothing less. The fire flowed down from then, and then blasted out into the world around them. Together the beams of light joined up with light from the crests of the other digidestined, and shone through the fog of the Gate, like a signal beacon from afar, illuminating everything, a beam of light cutting the darkness.
You are the Guide. A voice whispered inside of Kari's head. It is your task to Guide those who are lost back to the Light that embraces all. Light is just that, a guide. Remember that and cherish it, and let your Light draw the worthy home.
And then Izzy reached out with hands forged of mental might rather than flesh and blood, reaching for the power, and found their way home.
The Gate flared white. For a moment it seemed to explode again, and then they were looking into the familiar swirling light of their first gateway trip.
We've got it! Tai screamed exuberantly.
Good, because we can't keep this up much longer. Omnimon grunted from behind them. Astonished, they looked around at the scene that their fascination with home had permitted them to overlook.
Omnimon was still holding Ravisher even, sword to sword, but his muscles were shaking. Veemon and Wormmon were crawling over the ground toward their human companions.
What happened? Tai asked.
He had a few aces up his sleeve. Omnimon grunted. There was a moment when it looked like their guards might shift again. Then they stabilized, Ravisher steadily pressing down on his opponent. We've got a problem here folks.
No kidding. Matt whispered back.
Everyone else through the gate. TK barked, pointing. We have to get back.
We can't leave Tai and Matt here by themselves. Mimi protested, wringing her hands.
The hell you can't! Tai exploded suddenly. Someone has to get back, has to warn the others, has to save the world. We're only two people. Billions of lives might be at stake here, and you're the only ones who might be able to help.
We need to cover your retreat. Matt yelled.
Sora stood there for a moment, and then, cradling Biyomon in her arms, she bowed very low, very formally, and entered the swirling lights of the Gate, disappearing in a flash of white light. A moment later Joe and Gomamon, also bowing to the two leaders, disappeared into the turmoil. Mimi, eyes wet with tears, jumped through with Palmon right behind her. Davis walked by, paused, and then clasped both boys' shoulders wordlessly, before hurling himself through the Gate with Veemon clasped in one arm. Yolei smiled at them, but her eyes looked wet too, and then she walked very calmly and very gracefully straight through the glowing door. Izzy finished packing up his computer and walked through very straight, giving them one last backwards glance as he vanished into the infinite beyond.
You've got to come. We need you. Ken whispered. But the two older boys shook their heads.
We're sorry Ken, but not this time. Someone needs to protect you guys. Tai smiled back, but his eyes were shining with water. We'll see you again when the war is over.
And then Ken was gone. Cody looked at them one last time, and then, decisively and resolutely he turned around and passed through the white light back to home. And then it was only brothers and sisters.
For a moment it looked as if they might all break out crying, but then Tai and Matt were surprised as their siblings came over and looked at them calmly. They looked quiet, as if they had accepted this fate, and then they both smiled.
Good luck. They said at once, voices quiet and controlled and proud, as if they were parents watching the fruits of their children burst out into full flower. Then they turned and headed for the Gate. There was a flash as they both entered, and then the light in the Gate began to shrink steadily, and Tai and Matt watched their last chance of going home disappear.
There was a streak of white, a flash of light, and then Sorcerymon was there. He was facing a creature so far beyond Mega that it defied description, but he was a powerful Champion, and he had stored up all his rage for this single moment of vengence, when he could finally help undo the evil that Khartan had done to his world. Power blazed from him like a star, all of his power, not as an attack but as a blind release, and he channeled all his hope, all the great power of his sacrifice into a blast that should have shattered the world.
His body glowed white for a moment, and then faded, collapsing back into its normal state like a candle that, for one moment, resembled the sun, and then faded into blackness. He slumped to the ground, spent and unconscious.
Ravisher staggered back, blinded and deafened by that impact, tossed backwards like a rag doll. There was a force behind it that defied description, as if the last sacrifice of the Champion had given up more than he had ever posessed. And then in a moment, while he was reeling, Omnimon was upon him.
Transcendent Sword! And light flashed to life again. Silver fire burned down the great rune-inscribed length of the invincible sword, and then it buried itself inside Ravisher's dark soul. The creature of darkness tilted his head back to the heavens and made one last despairing scream, but the heavens rejected him, and he collapsed into a limp heap, dust forgotten in the path of the world.
As Omnimon returned to Koromon and Tsunumon, Tai and Matt rushed over to where Sorcerymon lay, already his eyes fading, turning hard and cold instead of warm and full of life. His body was broken, his life spent, but he still retained enough power to speak to them.
Go! Go home. The words came out as a croak. Save your world. And then, with strength he should not have possessed, he grabbed Tai's shirt by the collar and pulled him closer. Avenge mine! He hissed, and at this he passed along all the fervor that had driven and sustained him all these years.
Tai and Matt both nodded. They said no words, but no words were necessary. It was a promise more binding than steel, harder then diamond, and they all knew it. And then Sorcerymon released Tai's shirt, surrendered his battle and let death claim him, and take him back to his comrades of long ago. The last expression he had on his face, as digital decay took him was a faint smile, the last thing reflected in his eyes was a kind face that Tai did not recognize. And then he was gone.
C'mon Tai. Let's go home. Matt whispered.
The Gate! Koromon shouted. It's almost closed!
The Leonidas stopped over the barren plain, its viewscreens, its crew surveying a scene from their worst nightmare. When the flare of light had come through the transit point they had known, and they had been prepared, but nothing could have prepared them for this. Buildings, hardened fortifications, ships, troops, all had been eradicated by that blast.
Even worse the explosion had done more environmental damage than physical. Three nearby mountain ranges had been eradicated, blasted down into gravel. The entire area was now a desolate plain, nothing but melted ground and blasted rock visible for kilometers, for as far as the eye could see. Where things had once grown, where children once might have played, it was all gone.
We got them. Courage whispered.
Justice responded, but his voice was hollow and cold and empty.
So now what? Gennai asked.
I suppose we go ahead with the plan. Justice sighed. I had wished that it had not had to end like this, but so it goes...
Light said nothing, but came close and slipped her arm around Justice's shoulders, stabilizing them as something peculiarly like a sob escaped him.
So now what? Knowledge looked downcast. After all it had taken Justice and him working together to create this weapon of destruction.
We attack. Justice had managed to get himself under control. We can take every world with checkpoint abilities within five transits of Cormere. I happen to know for a fact that most of their mobile forces were here, defending against us, and most of their resources were also here, prepared for out attack. Every mobile unit and every spare defense within about ten transits just got reduced to slag and burned to ashes. With Fifth Wing's support we can take as far as we want.
At which point they gather up their forces and prepare a counterattack. Knowledge reminded him gently.
We know that Cortell. Justice responded absently. But we desperately need that time. Time to stabilize the situation, to dig in, to fortify our positions. We have just, at a stroke, liberated almost fifty worlds counting the isolated ones off the main transit axis. Fifty! We need to dig in on all those worlds, change their governments, chase out enemy supporters. But especially we need to dig in and prepare for a counterattack. We need time to erect our own fortifications, deploy our own weapons. We need to buy that time for ourselves, and we just did. It will take them months to build up enough forces out of their shipyards to counterattack, which means that we have months to put our battle plans into motion.
So we bought ourselves enough time? Light asked hopefully.
You know we bought ourselves time. I just don't know how much. Justice responded.
You know that I'm worried about waiting for them to come to us. Gennai repeated. We need better information on this.
Well, I don't like it either. But we don't have the manpower for a full fledged conquest. Besides, they've wasted too much energy setting things up nicely on Earth. I'm convinced that their assault on Earth will come before their real attack here.
On your head be it. Gennai intoned and the two men nodded, returning to their study of what was once green and fruitful, and was now merely desolation incarnate.
Space and time, eternity and infinity twisted and warped around them, and then, like some primordial beast, rising from the pools of eternity between the distant stars, snaked upwards and finally deposited them. Their ears still rang with the sound of unearthly thunders, their eyes still covered with the multi-colored fireworks that had so recently been flung past them, but gradually the rainbow of colors faded and the familiar sight of dirt, grass, concrete and the growth of living things confronted them, filling their vision. Wherever they had intended to go, they were left in a copse of bushes that effectively shielded them from outside view.
Sora blinked and rose from the ground, still trying to clear the cobwebs out of her skull. For once in her life she could honestly say that everything hurt, and it hurt just about equally. Fortunately the pain began to diminish almost immediately, as if her body had been sick and tired of being tossed about in the void between worlds, and was happy to be back on a solid planet again. Around her other crumpled figures, with an astonishing variety of groans and moans, began to lift themselves off of the ground, shaking heads and blinking eyes as if the world around them was a strange creature that they no longer understood themselves.
Where are we now? Izzy murmured, his shaking hand failing to unlock his laptop correctly.
I'm not sure. That was Yolei, slowly managing to stagger upright. I hope we got to the right place.
Davis reached over to the bush closest to him and managed to part its branches, staring through them, eyes adjusting to the new sunlight.
There, spanning the massive waters of the bay, was Rainbow Bridge, overshadowing the park they were in. The huge bulk of a large container transport was visible off to another side, probably heading to Yokohama. And above there was the roar of a passenger jet, screaming against the atmosphere as it began its approach to Tokyo-Haneda International Airport. The wind blew in, fresh from the ocean as the familiar Tokyo skyscape reasserted itself.
Where are we? Ken asked groggily.
Davis had never felt so glad to be home in his life.
Izzy had managed to get his computer open and was checking something. It looks like we arrived in time. Business as usual according to the news sites.
We lost Tai and Matt. Sora's voice sounded very soft, and suddenly everyone fell silent.
TK stood up. He was smiling. You know those two. He laughed suddenly, and they all perked up. They'll turn up sooner or later. He looked up with a glimmer in his eye at that.
There was a thud as something slammed into the tree that sheltered the copse of bushes, then another thud, then a pair of lighter thuds. This was followed by a few cracking noises, and Tai and Matt, Koromon and Tsunomon fell out of the tree on top of the other digidestined. They both looked even more frazzled, Matt's hair was filled with twigs, and TK swore that a piece of Tai's was actually smoking, but they appeared to be none the worse for the wear.
We made it back. Izzy greeted Tai's almost incoherent question.
There was a croak as Tai tried to speak. The leader stopped, consciously wetted his throat and then spoke in a dry voice. I never doubted us for a second.
And it looks like there's a world here to welcome us home. Cody looked around and breathed in the beautiful taste of the air.
Any sign of Khartan? Tai sounded stronger.
Izzy kept typing on the computer. Even if he's been here longer than we have, he's doing a pretty good job of hiding from us. Either he hasn't been here long enough to do anything, or he's up to something.
Probably up to something. Matt shrugged. But then again, what else do villains do with their time anyway?
So what's the plan? TK asked.
The same plan we always have. Tai responded decisively. We stop him cold.
Send the alert. Ken whispered to Izzy. Go to Phase One now.
Already done. Izzy replied. Even if they neutralize us, if they want a war, they've come to the right place.
They're coming all right. Ken murmured.
Thanks for reading! Remember to review! I'll see you in Acts of War: Holding the Line.
-danAlwyn