A/N:  The trip down south was fun.  I got a lot of fantastic ideas for this story while in Graceland and the Space and Rocket Center, and even did three kick-ass pictures of Myo and AngeMyo, which might be posted on my website when and if I get the time (and if the computer with the scanner works).  Sorry this took so long!  AngeMyotismon is not in here, but he will be in the next one!  ENJOY!

Chapter 5

Angels Among Us

  Wizardmon was a hero among Myotismon's henchmen.  The word of the transformation travelled through Nightmare Castle and spread like wildfire until the entire palace was abuzz with stories of the metamorphosis, each more unbelievable and sometimes more ridiculous than the last.  By the time the Shadow Mode arrived, Wizardmon was no longer a hero or a celebrity, but a legend.

  Until the morning that followed the banishment.  The wizard knew something was unbalanced within the fortress's walls, as if Myotismon had returned as himself again.

  It is light and darkness, I know it, thought the young sorcerer as he paced the vacant throne room, which was exactly the same as it had been when the vampire was still residing there.  The air has grown brisk and desicated.  The lights are dimming at a minute yet alarming rate.  I feel a presence has invited itself in.  It can only be one single digital being, the feared one.

  His train of thought was interrupted by the echo of a booted footstep hitting stone.  Several more followed, seeming to grow closer with each step.  Finally, the door creaked open two inches, and the room grew so dim the candles lit faint lights by themselves.

  Wizardmon gasped, and his heart began pounding as the two doors flew open and banged against the wall.  A huge army of bats fluttered into the room, screeching like fingernails on chalkboard.  He knew that there was only one mon who the bats made way for.

  Myotismon Shadow Mode regally stepped into the throne room, his head held high and his posture perfectly straight.  Wizardmon felt a cold draft enter the room, and he shivered.

  "Wizardmon," he addressed the wizard in his cold voice.

  "Myotismon?…" wondered the champion digimon.

  "I am not, yet I am," replied the demonic half of the vampire, turning around to face his henchman.  "I am the Shadow Mode of Myotismon.  The darker and more evil side.  His prominent side.  The yang without the yin to hold it back.  Freedom… freedom to do exactly what I wish.  To obtain the coveted jewel that is the real world."

  As if he had an innate sense of abilities to locate, Demidevimon fluttered into the room and perched on top of the Shadow Mode's shoulder, feeling the leathery cloth beneath his claws.  "Master Myotismon!  I thought you were that angel!"

  "No longer," replied Myotismon Shadow Mode.  "I am the side you have feared, the side that will do exactly what the true Myotismon has aspired to accomplish for years: to plunge both principal worlds into eternal darkness, merge them both to form one, then become king of the new world.  The Vampire Lord of Server was never enough for him, and will never be enough for me."

  The imp was taken aback for about a second, and remained silent.  "What are you going to do, master?" he quietly asked.

  "The very first thing I will do is put every slave to the test, and filter out the best of the best.  Then I will go to Tokyo, making sure no angel dares stand in my way."

  "You're going to kill an angel?" asked Demidevimon.  "…Ingenious.  Very ingenious, sir.  Which one?"

  The Shadow Mode bared his fangs in a sinister grin.  "Whatever angel I can get my hands on."

  On the morning that followed the union of the two digital angels, Odaiba was blanketed in a soft layer of pure, untainted white snow.  Large flakes were still dropping to the ground from the gray sky above, and the children were eager to play outside in it.

  Kari was no exception.  In third grade at the time, she was still a small, vulnerable child.  She was disappointed that Agumon had paid her older brother Tai a visit for the holidays, but Gatomon hadn't done as much as even make an attempt to contact her.

  She was shaken awake by Tai, who was dressed in a dark blue sweater and long gray khaki pants due to the drop in temperature.  "Kari!" he exclaimed excitedly.  "It snowed last night!"

  The young digi-destined gasped, then leapt out of her futon to see that her brother was indeed telling the truth.  "Oh boy!" she shouted.  "I can't wait to play outside after school today!"

  Tai smiled.  "You'll have plenty of time to do it.  I think today's the last day of school before winter break.  Now get dressed and have breakfast.  We're having pancakes today.  Oh, and shake a leg.  We have a visitor."

  After her big brother closed the door to the small bedroom that he and Kari shared, the keeper of light stripped herself of her pink pajamas and dressed in a long pink sweater with purple capris.  She brushed her short mud-brown hair and donned her socks and shoes.  Then she ran to the kitchen, where the scent of pancakes hit her full force.  Her mother had finished cooking them and slid two plates of the steaming breakfast food on the table.  Tai was already shoveling his breakfast into his mouth, as he was in a hurry.  Kari decided to take her time, so she took the bottle of sweet, sticky maple syrup and smothered her pancakes with the liquid, then poured herself a glass of tangy orange juice.  Just as Kari was about to dig in, she saw a familiar silver object gleaming on the table.

  "My whistle!" she squealed, picking up her silver whistle pendant that she had given to Gatomon.  "Could this mean…"

  "She arrived last night," said Agumon, the very short, heavyset, orange, fire-breathing lizard digimon who resembled the Tyrannosaurus Rex.  "Tai wanted to tell you, but we wanted him to keep it a surprise."

  "Hi Kari!" shouted Gatomon from on the floor near the digi-destined's chair.

  "Is that your digimon, Kari?" questioned Tai's mother.  She was not afraid; she knew all about the digital creatures from the summer before.

  "Yes," replied the white cat.  "My name is Gatomon, and I am very pleased to meet you, Ms. Kamiya."

  Kari let out a squeal and picked her digimon off the floor, then hugged her so tightly Gatomon could barely breathe.  "I can't believe you came back!  I love you and missed you so much!"

  "me… too…" Gatomon mananged to squeeze out.  "I… need… to breathe!"

  "Sorry," apologized Kari.  She loosened her grip and set Gatomon down on the floor.  "But I can't believe you actually came back to the real world!  This is the best Christmas present ever!"

  "Christmas?"

  "Yes!  Take a look around!"

  So she did.  The living room of the apartment had holly strung on the wall with a large green wreath above the fireplace.  Hanging from the mantlepiece was a red stocking for each member of the Kamiya family.  In one corner was a green tree covered with various ornaments and brightly colored lights.  Underneath the tree, a few wrapped presents had been placed, seeming to beckon to their recipients to open them before December 25.

  "Pretty, isn't it?" continued Kari.  "My family's Christian, so we celebrate it.  My friends don't seem to do it, though.  But we do get a small vacation off anyway."

  "Come on Kari, shake a leg!" shouted Tai.  "School's about to start!"

  Kari swallowed the last bite of her breakfast and gathered her school materials.  She petted Gatomon for one last time, then exited with Tai, leaving Gatomon and Agumon at their lonesome when their mother would go to work.

  At Tai's school, the students were more hyped up than normal about the vacation, making it next to impossible for them to settle down.

  "Will you be quiet?" barked Ms. Kamishiro, Tai's sixth-grade homeroom teacher.  "You guys are impossible!  I'm trying to take attendance."  She moved her finger in front of her face, counting the occupied desks until she saw that only one was vacant.  "Hmmmmm… Rena seems to be absent today," she mumbled.

  Suddenly the door opened, and the girl who was thought to be absent stepped in and rushed past her classmates until she reached her desk in the back corner farthest to the left, as the homeroom teacher always arranged her students' seating alphabetically.  She resembled a cherub in a way, with her chubby figure and rosy cheeks.  Her black hair hung in her brown eyes and the rest of her fair-skinned face.  She was wearing a pink t-shirt with black sleeves, baggy blue jeans with holes in the knees, and brown loafers.

  "I'm very sorry," she apologized to her teacher in her soft, high voice.  "My dad's car broke down because of the unusually cold weather."

  "Yes, Miss Yuriko, I understand, but please do not be tardy again.  One more time and you get a detention."

  Several titters filled the room as Rena opened her math book and attempted to finish her pre-algebra.  She knew that she would be hit by one of those nasty spitballs before the day was over.  Life sucks, she thought.  Why did he have to leave me?  Why did I have to start school a year later than everyone else, and why am I the stupidest person in the world?  Everyone always calls me You-Reek-O, if not "fatty" or "lardo" or worse.  It doesn't help that my love is gone and will never come to whisk me away to where he lives… maybe there I will be respected the way I should be.  Her eyes burned with tears as she stared down at the sheet of paper on her desk.  It seemed like a jumble of kanji that became lines of varying lengths and angles on the paper as it blurred.  Blonde hair… blue eyes… and he smelled so good too.  If only he could come back like in my dreams.  If only I could see him again.

  Her train of thought was abruptly ended by a soggy spitball, consisting of a crumpled-up piece of paper saturated by saliva, hitting her square in the back of her neck.  She took it off and let it drop to the floor, her cheeks and ears tinged pink, trying to return to her homework.

  The day was otherwise uneventful, with one exception: lunch break.  Usually the middle-school students ate their lunches in their small cliques, only conversing amongst themselves.  Tai and the other older digi-destined were sitting at their usual table, eating whatever food they had brought, occasionally starting small traces of a conversation.

  All of a sudden, the doors opened, and a pubescent male voice shouted, "Everyone!  Look at this!"

  "Oh God," muttered Mimi.  "It's Chip."

  Charles Tajiri, better known as Chip, was a nerd.  His greasy black hair, Coke-bottle glasses, pocket protector, high-water pants and candid interest in computers and mathematics proved so.  He, like his fellow outcasts, spent the lunch hour in the computer room, attempting to substantiate the existence of extraterrestrials, creating a program that would shelter their modems from whatever hackers were out there, or solving complex problems in their Algebra II math books.  Though he was old enough to be in sixth grade, he had been promoted to seventh grade.

  Chip skipped over to the long cafeteria table where the digi-destined were seated, and plunked a small, flat object onto its surface, his large hand concealing what picture was on it.  He was so roused by what he had to say that he didn't care when the children of the higher social ranks edged themselves and their food away from him as if he were a leper.

  "You said that it was impossible for aliens to exist," he announced, "but I have found something even better!  Angels!  Angels exist, and they're flying around over Tokyo right now!"

  The digi-destined ignored him, pretending to be absorbed in their sandwiches and sushi, as if there was something perticularly fascinating about seaweed wrapped around raw fish.

  The nerd ignored the silent treatment; rather, he felt they were encouraging him through their silence.  "I can prove it, because what I hold underneath my hand is untouched, unedited, unaltered photo footage of this vision.  It's not even digital!  You see, last night I was mapping an uncharted region of the sky for signs of alien life when suddenly I saw something shocking."

  "What was it?" questioned Matt sarcastically.  "Let me guess.  Santa Clause and Elvis Presley riding on the back of the Easter bunny, then all three get abducted by those aliens you constantly talk about."

  "I wish!" spouted Chip, who was obviously on a roll.  "it was even more unbelievable than that, Matt.  For what I saw was…" he raised his voice to a louder volume.  "…these angels!"  He whisked his hand away, leaving the picture face-up on the lunch table.  "And they were standing on a cloud, bodies pressed together, sucking the lips off of each others' faces!  At first I thought there was something wrong with the lens of the telescope, but when I wiped it off thoroughly, they were still there!  So I grabbed my camera, zoomed it in as far in as I could, then took as many pictures as the film would allow.  This morning I rushed to the one-hour photo, and here is the best footage!"

  The digi-destined, and others who were sitting at the long table, crowded in and peered at the color photograph with their inquisitive eyes.  To everyone's surprise, they saw the image.  Though blurry, it was recognizable as two white-clad bodies pressed together against a dark blue background.  Both had long manes of blonde hair that cascaded down their backs and six white features that could have been wings.

  "So, it could still be bull crap," altercated Matt.  "They could be people in costume, the wings could be added digitally…"

  "Yeah," agreed Izzy.  "Any photograph can be edited so it looks like those are—"

  "I have the negatives to prove it!" interrupted Chip, digging in a pocket of his trousers and pulling out the negatives.  "The angels exist!  Everyone get a look at these heavenly beings!"

  A crowd that consisted of most of the cafeteria had gathered around the table, each person shoving their way through the rest to get a good look, each mind full of questions, mainly the same ones, like "Are they both female, or is one a guy with long hair?" or "If they are people in costume, how much did the costumes cost?" or "When did you see them?"  However, the question asked en masse was, "Are you sure those are angels?"

  Rena Yuriko had also made her way through, but only to see what the cafeteria of Odaiba Middle School was abuzz about.  "Hey, what is everyone looking at?" she questioned.

  "None of your business, Fatty You-Reek-O!" retorted one of her peers.

  Before Rena could retaliate, the nerd made an announcement.

  "Everyone!" he shouted.  "With angels among us, but with so many skeptical minds, I will be personally proving to everyone around the world that there are angels!  Tonight, bring a telescope to the top of Odaiba Towers—if you have one—and turn it to the position I tell you to, and I will show you once and for all!  Be there or be square!"

  "in your case, you don't have to not be there to be square," mouthed off one of the eighth-graders.  Giggles filled the vicinity around him, and the crowd dissipated into the hallway, where Chip would show them the picture.

  "Angels… angels…" muttered Tai.  "What if one of those was Angewomon?"

  "Most definitely," replied Joe, rubbing his chin.  "But I can't tell who that other one is.  He's not Angemon, that's for sure.  But he looked very familiar."

  Sora looked at her companions mindfully.  "If there is an angel-hunt, then they might capture her!"

  "Sora, this is Chip Tajiri we're talking about," Tai pointed out.  "Nobody's going to believe him."

  In the digital world, in the heavenly kingdom that was the sanctuary of the angels, Pyro Angemon attempted to act as if he were not hiding anything, but his attempts were weak.

  "Pyro Angemon," Angemon addressed him from behind that afternoon.  The sun was low in the sky, bathing the sky in a cheerful goldenrod tint.  However, this angel did not sound too pleasant in the way he spoke.

  The fiery seraph froze in place.  He refused to speak or move a muscle for fear that his original-angel counterpart would consider that yet another suspicious act.

  "Pyro Angemon," the angel repeated, louder and more reproving.  "I addressed you by name.  You must answer me."

  Pyro Angemon sighed, then slowly pivoted around.  He brushed a few strands of his tousled black mane behind his back, then looked at Angemon's feet.  There was no way in hell—or in this case, digital Heaven—that he would look at this being in the eye.  "Yes, Angemon?" he asked, letting his eyes wander over the gold cross on the digital angel's white boots.

  "I have a question about the strange occurrences in this domain," stated Angemon.  "Knowing your personality as the anarchist of this Council of Digital Angels, I immediately linked this crisis to you."

  The angel of the flame grew pallid.  How did he know?  

  "Angewomon is missing.  You see, she disappeared without a trace last night, and none of the others I have asked know where she went.  I have reached the bottom of the barrel, as they say.  Your action back in the digital year 7760 was a disgrace, despite an act of precaution.  You have always wished revenge for those who give you a difficult time.  I ask you, has she taunted you in some way?"

  "NEVER!" snapped Pyro Angemon.  "She would never do that!"

  "Do you have any sort of clue about where she has gone?"

  "NO!" retorted Pyro Angemon.  Before he could escape, Angemon grabbed him around the wrist with one hand and removed his helmet with the other.  The fire angel's eyes squeezed shut as the other angel read his thoughts.

  "so you DO know where she is!" deduced Angemon.  "You low liar!"

  "And you arrogant pompous bufoon, trying to suck up to the Guardians because you want a chunk of the digital world to rule over!" quipped Pyro Angemon.  "Here are more thoughts you won't be reading!"  He donned his helmet and aimed his staff at Angemon.  "INFERNO TORNADO!"

  A funnel-shaped flame blazed out from the crystal globe and headed straight for the angel, who zoomed out of the way lest his wings ignite and turn to ash in a matter of seconds.  It burned out in less than a millisecond after missing its principal target.

  Angemon, hovering in the air, assured in his most patient voice, "Please, Pyro, do not make this more difficult than it already is!  Tell me where my lady is and I will not get mad at you!  I promise with my heart and soul!"

  However, the fiery angel refused to believe him.  "I will never tell you!  I promised her."

  "Pyro, you will tell me or face the consequences of permanent banishment from the digital Heaven!" demanded Angemon, his face tinged pink and growing more impatient by the moment.  His angel rod began to glow white as if to tell the other angel, "I mean business."

  Pyro Angemon hesitated a moment, then opened his mouth.  Losing the title of an angel was an enormous deal, but he would not surrender to who overthrowed him from the Grand Council and actually administered the punishments.  Angemon was willing to do whatever he could to rid his domain of this blemish.  However, he was obliged to do whatever he could to help Angewomon and even Myotismon— surprisingly, a figure he liked to follow in the footsteps of and could not stand to see killed, for he knew that he was a fallen angel in some way and inevitably would become one of them after time went on— and if he betrayed them, who would be the one to allow these outcasts to live?  Myotismon was ANGE Myotismon, therefore making him an angel.  If Pyro kept his mouth shut as he usually did, he would be betraying Angemon, a high-ranking deity and a figure of authority.  However, if he told Angemon where Angewomon was— and even worse, saying she was with Myotismon— he would be betraying TWO of his kind.  The conflict in his mind had to be resolved in less than two seconds.

  But, knowing that he wanted what was best for the angel maiden, he quickly shut his mouth and glared at Angemon.

  "So you have made your foolish decision not to tell me,"  asserted Angemon.  He pointed his rod at Pyro, who froze in place, unable to make a single movement.  "Pyro Angemon, with the power of Seraphimon and the Grand Council, I hereby deprive you of your title of—"

  All of a sudden, the sky took on a blood-red tint, and the clouds turned from white to a menacing grayish-black, with lightning sparking out of various places.  Thunder began booming from below, vibrating the clouds.  A gale blew through the area at a continuous rate, bringing with it the stench of evil and a below-freezing wind chill.

  A deep, powerful voice began to laugh darkly as the sky's tint deepened to a pure black, without a trace of sunlight.  However, the digimon could still see due to Pyro Angemon's fire brightening the area and their uncanny sense of sight.  Hundreds of bats squeaked as they flew above the clouds and circled around the two angels like vultures surrounding their prey.

  Then a tall, lanky figure rose above the surface of the clouds, still laughing.  "Good evening to you angels!" he greeted the two.  "Angemon, do you not remember me?"  He grinned, revealing his unmistakable fangs.

  "Myotismon," growled Angemon.  "How the devil did you return after your banishment?"

  The Shadow Mode chuckled.  "Ah, but I've always been in this world.  As his Shadow Mode, his dominant side, the true Myotismon but not truly him, I am here to dominate both worlds without an angel here to stop me."

  "See if we can't!" shouted the angel, seeing his main priority was to hold evil off before it made it to Earth.  "HAND OF FATE!"

  Myotismon Shadow Mode leapt into the air and dodged the dazzling white beam of the hand.  "Is that the best you can do?" he questioned in a mocking sort of manner.  "RAGING NIGHTMARE!"

  All the bats flew up into an army-like formation and flew straight at the two angels, squealing and nipping at their suits and bare flesh.  Angemon took his Angel Rod and attempted to swat at whatever bats dared bite him.  The ones that were foolish enough to get that close immediately dissolved after the glowing rod came into contact with them.  Pyro Angemon unleashed his Inferno Tornado at the flying rodents, which destroyed every last one.

  Myotismon Shadow Mode glared at his new angel adversary.  "I have a special gift for you," he declared.

  "I was about to give you the same thing!" shouted the fiery angel.  "HEAVEN'S FLAME!"  He changed into pure white fire with six blue-hot wings and darted right at the vampire like a comet, him zooming out of the way just as speedily.  Three attempts failed.

  "LETHAL DARKNESS!" shouted Myotismon Shadow Mode, letting loose a dusk so dark it sucked light out of the air surrounding it.  It surrounded Pyro Angemon and seemed to drain him of his power.  He felt the darkness against his skin… so cold and tingly but in a bad way, as if pins were being pushed into his skin everywhere and filling his veins with ice.  He felt his power being drained as his breath shortened and collapsed onto the surface of the clouds.

  Finally Angemon managed to destroy the final bat.  "HAND OF FATE!"

  "MEGA CRIMSON LIGHTNING!"  The Shadow Mode whipped out a larger, more potent version of his Crimson Lightning and forced the beam of the Hand of Fate to reflect right onto Angemon, knocking him to the surface of the cloud.

  "Pyro… someone… please help," gasped the angel, extending a hand.  He could feel nothing in his skin, yet his muscles ached as he moved.  As the feeling returned, surges of tingles filled everywhere, causing him to fall limp onto the surface, writhing and pleading for the agony to cease.

  As Pyro Angemon struggled to stand up, the darkness lifted.  He managed to get onto his hands and knees when he saw Myotismon Shadow Mode standing in front of him, brandishing his whip of Mega Crimson Lightning.

  "Finally… an angel dies," he said before letting the whip fly.  It cracked in the air before striking Pyro Angemon right through his back and exiting through his chest, frying him internally with the worst pain imaginable.  The fiery angel let out a final scream, tears escaping his eyes and sweating heavily, before he collapsed onto the cloud and rolled onto his back.  It was then when he saw his feet were halfway gone, with small square-shaped pieces of data escaping.  "I will come back for the rest of you!  MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  He flew away to where the portal was located, his bats following closely behind.

  As the sky lightened to its natural color, Angemon felt the remainder of the ache escape his body.  He stood up and rushed over to Pyro Angemon, forgetting about snatching away the title.  "Pyro, are you feeling…"  That was when he saw the dissolving.

  Pyro Angemon was a sight to be seen.  He was completely limp, his roughed-up face fixated with an expression of pain and agony.  His breaths were short, much like gasping.  His face was drenched with salty tears and perspiration, and small rivers of blood trickled from a red, raw exit wound on his right breast.  His legs were in the process of their decaying.

  "Pyro… I'm sorry," apologized Angemon.  "I let anger get the best of me… I'm VERY sorry…"  He began to force back the tears that seemed to fill his eyes until they couldn't help but leak salty tears of compassion that dripped onto the wound but didn't do a thing to heal it.

  "I'm… dying…" gasped Pyro Angemon.  "…you… win, Ange…mon."

  "Win?" questioned Angemon.  "I only wanted what was best for Angewomon… I thought she needed me wherever she is now…"  He took his fellow angel's hands in his and looked up at the sky.  "And now I'll never find her…"  He felt his hands close around nothing.

  All that was left of the flaming angel was his chest up.  His face was pale white and clammy, like a corpse's.  Angemon might have had a vendetta against him, but Pyro Angemon could still repent and help him despite everything he had done.  He had not had three strikes, but he was about to get out permanently.

  Finally, after a moment of pure silence, there came Pyro Angemon's final word before he completely dissolved and died.  It was what would help Angemon, in case Angewomon was in danger and Ange Myotismon was not able to save her.  One single word escaped his dying lips:

  "Earth."

To be continued…