Children of the Digital

by Debbie Dai-chan

Part Fourteen: Get a comfortable seat and popcorn, people, because this chapter is a longie. You probably want to take a couple of breaks in between. :p The Nature Children go off to talk with Holy Beasts and Oikawa and Seijamon have their moments.

12. Time to Rest

A/N:

Dai-chan walks in with her Magic Pencil, stands in front of the screen, cheerfully waves, though there is a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She begins to write.

Dizklamer!!!

Febbie not own Digimon, coolest Monsters ever! Zhe not own Digidestined. Zhe not own Digiworld. Too bad, so sad, so there, so what? But me do! Queen Dai-sama own Izz-man!

Resistance is futile. You will be assimila-

A Japanese fan flies in and jabs her in the face. Dai yelps and staggers out of the screen and there is a satisfying *thud*. Debbie stomps in, fuming. She gives her unconscious sister a hot glare and picks up the Magic Pencil. With that, she erases the infamous words of Star Trek and quickly dives for cover as the fourth wall screeches in threat. After the fourth wall finishes its wail, Debbie brushes her hands, and then stops. An evil sneer appears on her face. She erases the redhead's name and writes in 'Sora'.

A strangling gasp, then colorful curses erupt as Dai chases a still grinning Debbie out the screen, swinging the Japanese Fan. As yells fade in the distance, Demy flies in with a sign on his neck. There is a weary expression on his cute face. The sign says:

Will Work for Sanity.

MUHA! Beware.

Children of the Digital

Chapter Twelve: When it's time to rest . . .

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

I have the strangest sensation that I'm floating in a darkness that is alive, swelling and coiling like a slimy slug. I feel so filthy, wanting to scrub the disgusted filthiness, wanting to cleanse the awful foulness from my skin. I hear only one voice: the voice of Daematermon, and even so, the childlike voice is masked with foulness and such anger, sadness, and hatred that run creeps up my spine. I fight the uncontrollable response that would remove my crest from around my neck to the tiny, white hands.

Then . . . there is a pale purple flash, soft and almost faint, and yet radiant and fierce, sparkling in the darkness, banishing the foulness from around me. A sensation of a hand, a small hand coming out from within the darkness, reaching up to me, grabbing on my own hand, and with a surprising strength, perhaps born of fright, the hand yanks me down, down, plummeting into the darkness. The foul darkness vanishes, replaced by peaceful darkness, encouraging me to fall asleep. I don't want to; not knowing what nightmares will haunt my dreams.

I don't regard it at all, feeling nothing but the sensation of free fall. I feel like I'm falling, but at the same time, I am not moving at all, my mind playing tricks. Then, abruptly, I tumble onto a floor. It doesn't hurt me; the fall feels like I am just floating only a couple of feet away from the ground. I lay still, befuddled, not perceiving the scratches on my shins, cheeks, and arms where they strike upon the cracked and grainy stones. Then I know, somehow know that I am back in the dream.

I open my eyes, sitting up. Yes, I am back in the dream, but there is something wrong with it. Somewhat, I have the odd impression that I'm trapped, couldn't get out. I couldn't bring myself to wake up; it's like a sluggish effort, too weak, too lazy to work. Peering behind myself, I recoil to see the darkness swirling a couple of feet away. I hurry up to my feet, stumbling away to gain more space in between. Taking a shuddering look at it, I then glance around. I wonder how I got to here, don't remember falling asleep, only recall the sliminess of the strange living darkness. I rub my arms, walking down the winding paths, again feeling the trapped sensation.

I need to find out what has happened. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shout, "Nikhai? Nikhai!" I kneel down, brushing aside a stiff, dead bush, trying to see a glimpse of a black dress, a flash of blonde hair, or even a twinkle of bright blue eyes. "It's me, Butterfly."

A faint sniffle answers me. I raise my head, waiting. Another sniffle shows me the way. I arrive to a mess of bushes that seem to grow altogether, forming a huge dome of twisted branches, brown leaves, and loose roots. The sniffles come from inside. I walk around and notice a tiny opening that might lead me inside. I kneel and whisper, "Nikhai?"

Within the branches, I find the small girl. Wide bright blue eyes staring back, Nikhai is nestled deep in the bushes, her arms tight around her legs, her teeth biting on the knots of her rainbow-colored sash in fright. The very sight sinks my heart. "Nikhai, what's the matter?"

The girl manages to remove the knot from her mouth to wail, "Go away . . ." Her eyes dart around to the side. "My monster saw you and she will find me."

'No, not Wissy! Not my monster!' I bite on my lip from asking her who is her monster. I believe I know, but I couldn't dare to ask, not when poor Nikhai is frightened to death. The sight of her monster must have frightened her into hiding deep in the thorny bushes. "I'm sorry," I murmur, "But I promise you that I will protect you from your monster."

Another sniffle and Nikhai rubs her nose before eying me with a faint light of hope. "You - you will?"

I grin with confidence. "Of course!" Seeing that Nikhai is calmed down, even a bit, I crawl forward into the bushes. The opening is too small for me to crawl safely and I try to ignore more scratches I earned. Surprisingly, the hollowness inside is large enough for me to fit. Nikhai hesitates to move closer, watching me cautiously. I again grin, admiringly looking around the inside. "It's a good hideout."

Nikhai faintly smiles. "I hope so it's strong enough from my monster."

"I believe so, Nikhai," I reassure, moving into a comfortable seat.

The younger girl pauses, and then quietly crawls into my lap. I let her; I know that Nikhai is really scared and all she needed is a safe embrace and a few words of encouragement. Nikhai wraps her arms around my chest and locked on there; I let one of my hands brushing aside the blonde locks from the girl's face, the same locks I once had when I myself was seven. It is kinda eerie that I feel like I was holding a younger Cleo, the only difference is the color of our eyes.

Nikhai whispers lowly, "Butterfly, please don't tell your friends about me. I'm scared."

"Don't worry, Nikhai. You will be fine." I again bite on my lip; I kinda betrayed my promise, already told Yamato about the strange twin girl. But I trust him, trust his abilities to talk with the dead and hear their words. He is the only one who can talk with her beside me. No one else can talk nor see Nikhai. I could go ahead and reassure Nikhai and let her know that she can trust Yamato. I voice, "But one of my friends wants to help, too. He is Matt. He saw you and asked me about you."

Nikhai's eyes widen, showing the intensity of the electric blueness. "But you promised not to tell!"

"I didn't tell him. He saw you first. He wants to help."                                                                   

The girl is obviously hesitant, but then she inches closer, curious. "Who is he? I remembered seeing him, and he tried to talk to me."

I smile; at least, Nikhai had seen Yamato. It would go easier for her to trust him. "Why didn't you talk back?" Although, I know the answer.

"I was too scared."

"It's alright. He will talk with you when you want to talk."

Nikhai tilts her head in puzzlement. "How did he see me?"

I know that Nikhai knows that she is dead and is now a ghost. The fact that she is dead doesn't faze Nikhai at all. That makes me wonder if Nikhai is aware that she is dead after all. It is a bit creepy. "Matt is like me; he can see ghosts and like to talk with them." Not exactly, Yamato mentioned that he does enjoy the conversations, but most of the time, he feels odd and weird that he likes to talk with the dead more than with the living. He prefers to talk if he needs to, although.

Nikhai appears to muse. "Ghost . . . that's his Heart-Name."

I'm surprised. I wonder how she knew about the Heart-names. Maybe she already knew that when she was alive and had a Heart-Name. All the Digidestined I met have one. I'm curious at how did she know about Yamato's Heart-Name. I nod to her words. She then smiles shyly at me. "And your Heart-Name is Butterfly."                                                                           

I smile; I don't know what my Heart-Name is, if I have one, and Butterfly seems to be the fitting one because I really love butterflies. After all, I have a Butterfly Digimon as my Guardian and my precious treasure is a butterfly pendant, which my Red still keeps around his neck. "Oh, I would like to have that as mine."

"But it is!" Nikhai emphasizes. "You look like a butterfly and so Butterfly is your Heart-Name."

"Thank you, and what is yours?"

Suddenly, the smile fades and Nikhai hurriedly looks away, as if shamed. I ask gently, "Nikhai, you can tell me." She violently shakes her head, which surprises me.  She does have one, but she seems scared and almost guilty to tell me. I don't want to pressure her. It would not be fair to her. "Ok, you don't have to tell me." My smile helps her calm down. I let her resting her head on my chest, letting her calm down and feel comfortable around me, letting her forget about her monster.

Monster . . . I can't . . . I have to find out. I want to know who her monster is so I can let my friends know. It might not be surprising to me, but I believe I know who her monster is. She called Daematermon her monster. Daematermon, the Final Evil. Daematermon has to be her monster; it is the only reason why Nikhai is so unnerved. I have to ask. No matter how frightened Nikhai is now. I can't be too soft.

I gently force Nikhai to look up to me. I ask carefully, "Listen to me. This is important and you have to tell me. Do you know who Daematermon is?"

Nikhai doesn't flinch at the name this time, though there is a flash of terror in her eyes. She then frowns, shaking her head. "It's not her real name. It's Wisimon. I call her Wissy."

"I never heard of a Wisimon." I should've known. Red had showed me each monster he had downloaded from the Digiworld and from Gennai. I don't recall a monster named Wisimon.

"She is my monster."

I eye her intently. There is no trick, no deceit in her face. She probably doesn't know how to lie. "Nikhai . . . You are a Digidestined?" It has to be. She used to have - and still has - a monster. A Digital Monster. And the only reason you have a Digimon is that you are a Digidestined . . .

Nikhai wrinkles her nose in perplexity. "I've heard of that funny word. What does that mean? Many monsters called me that. My brother and my friends, too. They had their monsters, but they were nice and friendly. They never hurt. My monster wanted to hurt me."

"Why?"

She bows her head, shivering. "I don't know . . ."

I want to stay and comfort her, but I can't. I have to leave. I was sleeping too long. In fact, I don't even remember when I did sleep. I have to wake up, despite the dry, sluggish effort. My friends are probably worrying about me. I have to leave Nikhai alone. She will be alright; she had been living in my mind ever since she can remember and was doing fine before I met her in the dreams. I brush aside the blonde locks. "Nikhai, will you be okay by yourself?"

The hurt look on her face again makes my heart sink. "I have to go. My friends will be very worried about me if I won't wake up." Her face softens down, almost into a guilty expression. She again bites on the sash's knots, anxious, but then silently nods. I grin, placing a butterfly kiss on her forehead. "Don't worry. I will be back soon. I promise."

She follows me as I crawl out and head for the darkness. The sight of the slimy darkness disgusts me, but it is the only door that I can get out, wake up through. Nikhai's voice stops me, though . . .

"Butterfly . . . I will be okay, but you can't leave."

I turn around and find her standing near the bushes hideout, still biting on the knots. The guilty expression is still there and it puzzles me. "What do you mean?" I ask. "The dream will end and I have to go."

"It's not a dream anymore."

"Nikhai, I don't understand."

Nikhai pointed a tiny finger toward the darkness. "You can't leave."

I wait, frowning, but she adds nothing to her words. The guilt on her face worries me. Is there something she knows that I don't notice yet? I look hard at the darkness, expecting it to be alive, swirling and coiling like a black snake among itself. But then I notice that it seems . . . solid. It doesn't coil, doesn't swirl, not even rippling. It is like black ice. Looking the entire length of the darkness, which seems to swallow all the boundaries of the garden except for the beautiful light behind me, it is solid. I force myself to walk up to it and place my hands on it. Sure enough, it is. Bitingly coldness stab through the palms, but as I fear, the darkness doesn't attempt to swallow me whole, but simply standing there, frozen.

The door is closed.

My heart hammer with fear. Am I trapped? "What happened? Did Daematermon do that to me?"

"No, I did," says the quiet voice beside me.

I stare down to Nikhai standing nearby, her bright eyes on me. "You did? Did what?"

"My power. It helped me bring you here so you won't get hurt by my monster."

"Power . . .?" Confusion takes over fear and I keep on staring back, perplexed. The little girl, the littlest Digidestined has a Power? How could it be?

Nikhai's face contorts into an anxious visage, even backing a step. "Are you mad at me?"

I let myself kneel, shaking my head. I need to keep my fear down and try to figure out what is really going on here. If I question Nikhai too harsh, she would get more frightened of me and would not appear to me anymore. I have to be careful and clear any confusion around us. "No, I'm not mad at you," I reassure her, but my eyes must have the sharp glint to it, for Nikhai doesn't move closer to me. "I don't understand what is happening here. Can you tell me more . . .?"

She wrings her hands, lowering her gaze. "I don't know . . . All I know is that I used my power to make you sleep. I made you stay."

I should've known. It's a possibility that every Digidestined has his/her own power. It should not surprise me that the Digidestined before us do have their Powers. I wonder what kind of power she has, but decide not to persuade her. Not when I demand to know what's going on here. "Why did you do that, Nikhai?"

"So Wissy won't find you. If you are awake, she will find you and will hurt you. But I brought you here and made you stay. She can't find you and she can't hurt me."

The sincerity in the words frights me. She sounds like that she is worried about me as much as she is about herself. But then, she does sound like Daematermon will definitely hurt me simply because I have Nikhai inside my mind and carry the Crest of Heart. I stare up to the solid darkness. "So I'm stuck here."

"No, you are not. You stay with me." Nikhai manages to give a reassuring smile.

I'm not comforted yet. The faces of my friends appear in my mind. "What about my friends? They will think I won't wake up and they will get worried."

The girl bows her head. "You are mad."

I sigh, but I touch her cheek to get her attention, smiling. "No, I'm not . . . I'm . . . I'm scared."

Nikhai quickly grasps on my hand, holding it close. "Don't be scared. I'm here."

"I know . . . But what about my friends? They didn't know I'm okay."

Nikhai bites on her lip, pondering, then realization dawns on her face. "I could tell Ghost for you!" I'm surprised, indeed, because she never shows such openness, trust for a Digidestined she only saw. Nikhai peers upward, her eyes soft, and then grins again, almost shyly. "You don't have to worry. Spark is watching over you all the time."

I remain silent, my heart melting at the thought of Koushiro guarding over me, watching to make sure I'm okay, just as what he always did ever since we met. At first, I thought it was because I was ill and Koushiro just wanted to make sure that I don't faint or lose my breath, but now I think he just enjoy being around me. My cheeks blush, looking upward, wishing to see his freckled, keen face that Nikhai is seeing. "He never leaves my side?"

Nikhai speaks coyly, "He's nice. His monster is here, and your monster, too. They are nice."

Oh, poor Ruigumon! She must be worried to death about me. I look to her. "Will you tell Matt that I'm okay? That I will wake up soon?" When she nods in agreement, I again keep quiet. The fact that I'm stuck here in this dying garden with only the foul darkness baring my way and the beautiful light that scares me really makes me feel dismayed. I am at a loss. I don't know what to do. I desire to get out of the dream and comfort my friends, but the idea of Daematermon suddenly attacking us the moment I wake holds me back. If it's the only way to keep my friends safe, I suppose I will have to stay asleep. But it doesn't matter this time. Why does Daematermon want my crest for? She is horrifying and heartless in spite of her childlike appearance. Who is she? She used to be Wissy, but now . . . she is so angry and sad and . . . lonely . . .

"Why are you sad?" Nikhai whispers, almost startling me.

I feel despair flooding in me. Does she already know about Daematermon? I have to ask. I have to! "Nikhai . . . why does your Wissy want to hurt me?"

Nikhai's worried face softens. "That's because she wants my crest."

"Your crest?"

"Your crest. The Crest of Heart. That's what Wissy called it."

Although that the crest is not physically here, I nevertheless touch my chest, imaging it. "My crest? You mean . . . my crest is your crest? The crest isn't mine after all?" Daematermon is right . . .

"It's yours and it's mine. We share it."

I'm bewildered. How could it be possible for two Digidestined to share a crest? Each Digidestined has a special crest that is supposed to represent their powerful trait and carry it for all the other Digidestined. Koushiro told me so. I don't know why I represent Heart. Koushiro mentioned that the word Heart could mean anything, from a center, a soul, a spirit, an emotion, a core of a being, or even a real heart. Just a heart or the meaning of a heart. I think it's quite special, a unique trait that could be given to anybody, and yet, it is entrusted to me.

So, why is Nikhai mentioning that the crest is hers? And that we share it? How? I voice my thoughts to her and she appears greatly confused, withdrawing her next words, looking scared. I circle my fingers around her hands, firmly holding it. "Nikhai, you have to tell me. You know something that I don't know."

"I don't know how to tell you . . ." she whispers, avoiding looking in my eyes.

"You have to. There must be a reason behind this . . . I'm trapped in my mind, Daematermon wants my - our crest and . . ." I loosen my hold, eying the small twin before me. "You were a Digidestined . . . Something happened to you in the past."

"I can't remember . . ." Finally, she bites on the knots, her eyes misting.

I couldn't let my heart harden at the emotions. It's obvious that she has suffered a horrible event that traumatized her and perhaps brought her death earlier than it should be. Poor girl . . . I quietly sigh and look upward, hoping to see the face of Koushiro or even Yamato, who might see me somehow. 'Please . . . find out what has happened! We need to solve the mystery of the Final Battle and Daematermon. Do it before it's too late!'

But I have no way to know if they are listening.

***

Fingers swiftly tapping on invisible squares that only he sees, the Unmon hummed to himself. He didn't remember if he enjoyed singing or even humming. All he knew was that humming seemed to come naturally, not noticing that his damaged voice was still working. He lost his voice in some battle he didn't remember, the voice box damaged beyond heal. He could speak, but the harshness, the tightness prevented him from speaking clearly and loudly. He rarely used it, only in the presence of his few friends. The voice didn't really bother him, but since one of his friends mentioned, with his face full of hope and despair, that his voice was angelic, singing breathtaking songs, the Unmon hesitated, puzzled at how was it possible that he once sang like an angel?.

He had the appearance of an Earth Chinese, with slanted eyes that were the deepest black possible and straight short black hair. His pale skin had darkened due to his constant exposure to the sun; he just loved the sun and can't imagine a world without a sun. Even though that he was an Unmon and had lived for thousands of years, he aged not. He appeared to be 19 Earth years old. His clothing was Unmon robes, common around his mysterious people. His robes was short to his knees, loose pants underneath, as male Unmons would wear, colored pale beige and soft to the touch.

The hem colors were various around the Unmons, choosing their own colors to match their status. Unmons didn't believe in ranks and keeping their people apart over a mere position. They chose a position for their desire. His color was dark green among the hem, which meant he was a Hacker. Hackers worked with data to adapt the Digital World to the Earth's changes and altogether, set fire walls and codes to prevent nosy Humans to find out about the shadow world. It was hard work, constantly guarding the boundaries of his world, seeing no holes or tears to allow a peek through. The people the Hackers only allowed to enter the Digiworld were the Digidestined.

That was what he was doing, working on a keyboard that only can be visible by lightened squares appeared in the air. He was puzzled to see that every door in the Digiworld was closed by a mysterious force, but he didn't take it as a threat. It happened sometimes. Rarely, but it did happen. He wondered if he should acknowledge his companions about the mystery and decided against it. They would already notice and would not take it seriously, either. He then turned to other works, searching for data that required an update, when he received the weirdest feeling.

It came in ripples, first so faint and mild that he almost ignored, but as it came stronger and thicker in sensations, Isyn Unmon stopped working and sat silently, experiencing it. It was neither violent nor delicate. It was there, hard to ignore. He almost could see it, the pale white ripples billowing through the air. It had no source; it seemed to be straight from the very world's core, spreading upward, downward, and everywhere. He felt like the world was changing. It was changing without an Unmon's help, which was highly impossible.

Isyn glanced upward and wasn't startled to see the change in the trees surrounding him. The leaves were changing black. It was unlikely that the leaves would change to that color and there was one reason that could explain why. The trees were shifting to viral.

'Strange, indeed,' Isyn silently spoke, watching as the viral leaves spreading their blackness to the branches. The branches were dark brown-grey, and now, they were changing to a sickly grey-green hue, as if they were sick by the leaves. The world was turning viral. It happened once and only one time. Isyn mentally removed the keyboard and came to his feet, sitting up from a wide, flat rock. He strolled down the stone path he made until he arrived to a modest shore. He lived on an island, called Iota Islet by him, off the southern shore of Server Continent. The island's beach faced the mainland and Isyn didn't bother to hide himself from any prying eyes of Digimon. Unmon were supposed to be hidden, but Isyn was worried about the world that he assumed being hidden wasn't important anymore.

He suspected so. The mainland was covered with towering trees, the area uncharted and wild. And among the tops, the leaves were solid black. Black leaves upon grey-green trunks. A thought came to him and he was puzzled. 'Now where have I seen this before?' he wondered as the faint, blurred memory appeared with visions of black leaves. It was the first time he had seen the black leaves, and yet the new memory told him that he already seen them before in another life. He took a sudden grasp on the memory, hoping against hope that he would remember more. His strength proved nothing. The memory smoothly slid out of his grasp and vanished back in sub-consciousness.

Isyn sadly frowned. He was an Unmon, but his friend told him that he had another life, a life as a human. At first, he thought it was absurd, but when strange, unfamiliar memories appeared recently, he wanted to know. He wanted to know who he was. There was emptiness inside him, a hollowness that was never sated even though he did everything to feel better. Nothing worked, not even the stories told by his friend. The hollowness swelled and the hurt came up in his throat, drying it. Isyn swallowed to ease it and turned back to the mainland. He didn't need to be hurt to remember.

As he walked up the path, he was stopped by singing. Not the sound of singing, but the memory of singing. It sounded so familiar, came so sudden that Isyn was taken back. It was familiar . . .

Isyn peered back to the black leaves, puzzled. He finally spoke, his lost voice struggling to form the word, "Ot-otam-amon?"

***                                                                                          

Flashes blinked and sounds of a sword slashing in the air filled his ears. The sounds were customary, comforted him, keeping him occupied. The twenty-one-years-old Unmon was practicing swordplay, though it was not necessary. But Unmons were the only Digimon that had no attributes, having no personal attacks, as weak as humans. So they had to use primitive weapons to protect themselves in occasional battles. Unmons didn't approve of fighting, considered themselves as peaceful people, accepted weapons only for protection. Unmons used swords, maces, staffs, knives, and whips, swords and staffs among the favored.

Liu Unmon highly approved swordplay, for he had a fighting spirit. Few Unmons had the same fiery spirit as his, and he enjoyed practicing his adept swordplay to challenge his friends to mock battles. Even Unmons had their entertainment. Swordplay never bore him, his warrior spirit fit perfectly with the slender blue-tinted blade in his hands. Liu enjoyed watching his sword performing in lethal dances and whistling thrusts in the air. He was one of the top fighters among the swordsmen/women. Few can match his skills and ever fewer could even face him in battle. It wasn't that Liu favored fighting, or even wanted to challenge. The fighting spirit was all he had from his former past.

At the first glance, Liu had the look of a South American man, with dark tan skin and fox-brown eyes that often twinkled with pride. His robe and pants were beige, hemmed light blue, marking him as one of the Agents. Agents were often fighters who were willing enough to walk among Digimon, carefully to be hidden and yet made sure nothing harmed Digimon, like viruses or errors in data. This time, Liu chose to practice his swordplay before deciding to go down and observe the safety of his Security Mountains in Cipher Continent.

He almost didn't notice the ripples until he paused for a deep breath. He then recoiled at the slight taste of foulness in the air. It was enough to make him sick. Frowning at the taste, Liu sheathed his sword and peered from his place atop the highest peak toward the plains laying in the east. He saw nothing but swaying grasses and few migrating Digimon across the plains. Nothing that could state wrongness. But it seemed familiar.

"Now what? Another battle with the darkness?" he muttered to himself, wondering how the world can take with 'yet another evil' tainting it. He eyed eastward, seeing the ocean in between Cipher and Server, farther until he could imagine File Island in his mind. Nothing. He shifted his mind's eye southward and was startled to find that the foulness was thicker there. What was there? Nothing, probably, but he stayed on his mountains too long and he hadn't heard anything from several Agents who resided in Server about the foulness. Still, the foulness was familiar . . .

His frown deepened into a scowl. "Daematermon . . ." He knew who Daematermon was and bore deep hatred for her. She almost killed the Digiworld! How could he forgive her for murder? He knew that the Final Battle was coming, but not that soon.

He peered down the slopes of the mountain ridges, searching for stable ledges, and then he leaped off. He didn't know how he got the strange leaping ability, but he could leap high and can leap off steep slopes without slipping off. Some of his friends had joked that he was part mountain goat. He found it thrilling as he leaped from one ledge to other, the slope becoming more level. There, he stopped, quickly hiding behind a tall rock pillar before any Digimon could see him. He waited a few minutes until he was satisfied, then he pressed his hands upon the pillar.

There was only other three Unmons who had the same power as his. No other Unmons had it. Liu can control energy. Abruptly, a light came around his hands and arms, two colors mingling altogether two blues, sparkly sapphire blue that brightened each minute and the other blue, a woeful, sad blue that seemed to hold shame. The aura touched the rock for a moment, and Liu sighed, shaking his head, withdrawing his power.

"It's not good. The world is too weak . . ."

His warrior soul burned and he was eager to face Daematermon, along with the Digidestined who were supposed to face her, too. He wanted to protect his world from the evil Mega, wanted to purify it from the foulness. A flash twinkled in his eyes and he didn't realize that he had drawn out his sword during his thoughts. He stared at the blade, softly twinkling with a sapphire blue light. His hands tightened on the hilt, feeling the fire coming in his chest . . .

He exhaled softly, sheathing his sword, holding his spirit down. "It's not my fight . . ." His eyes suddenly darkened with shame and hurt and he quickly turned back to where he once practiced.

***                                                                              

She did feel the ripples, taste the foulness, but her mind was on other things.

Citta Unmon paused in her tracks, a figure barely noticed in the vast meadow, a dark-skinned female Unmon not feared to hide from any Digimon. She lived here. No Digimon had lived here; only they lived in the boundary of trees. For a reason, the Digimon kept the meadow sacred, believing that something had happened here, believed that the First Battle happened here. Citta knew they were wrong, but she didn't even attempt to correct them. It wasn't her job.

The red hem on her robe-dress marked her as one of the Natives, the most common Unmon rank. The name Native meant nothing special, simply named the Unmons who lived in their home, preferred to live among each other on a continent only known as the Hack to the Digimon. The Natives lived as the Digimon and Humans lived, growing food, making supplies, taking care of the lands. They helped training the younger Unmons, who were a rarity, and seeing that their 'leaders', the white-hemmed Elders, served them well.

Citta was one of the rare Natives who enjoyed living on their own, almost as hermits. She had a reason to be a hermit Native, and it was not because she preferred her company to the others. It was her past. She was afraid of it, doubted herself that she was born an Unmon. She held such fear for thousands of years, worrying about the missing memories that her friend had mentioned about, even hiding from her Unmon companions. Who was she? She felt hollowness inside her, something missing that she couldn't identify. A part of her was gone. What part? She had no idea, remembering only the stories her friend told her, and even not believing him, then. She constantly avoided him, even knowing that she was deeply fond of him, returning his affection for her, but she was too afraid, and lately, he had stopped visiting. She didn't realize how much she missed him and desisted herself for being so reserved.

Many Unmons mentioned that she was elegant, with the dark brown skin that nearly shone black, equally black eyes that were like coals, and the tall, shapely body she had, seeming to hold an authority naturally. But then they did notice, but not telling, that there was a heavy sadness in her eyes, a great hurt that made them pity her. She knew those looks; they knew something about her that she didn't know and she didn't like it. So that's why she chose to live alone, living in one of the vast meadows of the world, Alpha Savannah in the Continent of Matrix.

Citta adjusted the red-hemmed shawl on her head, feeling the silky fabric. All female Unmons wore shawls, some preferring around their necks, and others liked covering their heads. Her robe was long to her ankles, flowing and fitting for travel, swaying around her legs from the winds that were common in Alpha Savannah. She absently gazed around the flowers she had personally grown, filling the very meadow itself. She didn't know why she enjoying gardening; there must be something, perhaps one of the missing memories, that roused her love for plants.

It was her first time to leave her home, even traveling far to File Island to visit the Temple of the Digivice. She had a strange feeling that she was supposed to go there. The feeling seemed incomplete, for some purpose, but she was urged. Why is she supposed to go there? Is there someone to see? Or something that she should know? After heavy thoughts and gathering courage to leave her home, she arrived at the Temple. Centuramon was astonished to see her, but he treated her as if she was one of his dearest friends. Which puzzled her. She wanted to know. She did ask, and Centuramon answered.

Centuramon had the same story as her friend; Citta was a human before she became an Unmon. She knew the rest and stopped him from talking anymore. Still, the look in his red eye made her wonder. Maybe there was something more about her that he knew. She somewhat knew that it was not time for her to visit the Temple, not yet. She only had to wait for a sign. Centuramon encouraged her to trust herself and get ready for the future.

What future? Citta wondered. The minute she arrived home, she heard someone's voice. It was her friend. He came to visit! She wildly looked around in hope, but he wasn't here. Again, she used her special sight to peer all over the meadow to see if he was near. He wasn't there at all. Then she listened to the voice carefully. It sounded younger and full of cheer. The voice was from someone that loved to be happy all the time, see happiness in everything and would laugh whenever he pleased. Her friend rarely sounded happy lately, but the voice was his, although younger. She wanted to know . . .

Citta silently shook her head. It was useless . . . What was the point trying to find a life she lost when there was no memories to fondly remember? She took a shakily sigh and continued on her way to home. Whatever it was.

***

"I think he will like those," Elecmon said as he put down odd fruits that only can be described as tiny blue-skinned mangos. He sniffed them and smiled at the sweetness. "Tentomon told me they are one of his favorites."

Frankie eyed the mangos and shrugged. Although he liked the taste, he was nuts for nuts. "Yeah, he will love them." He focused his work on a red kettle in the fireplace. He carefully took the handle with a mitt and placed it on a wooden tray. He heard his Digimon gathering green bananas and nuts - yum, those red-shelled nuts were his favorite! - and placing them on a food tray. Frankie took five small cups, hoping they were enough, and put them on the kettle tray.

The kitchen was the mother of kitchens. It basically had everything, from drawers full of silverware of every kind to an island in the center that was big enough for almost everybody for, along with a 'walk-in inlet' for storage to even a large cellar beneath to keep food cold. The kitchen seemed modern and at the same time old-fashioned. It had both a fireplace and few stoves, just enough to make unbearable heat. The counters and drawers were painted red and white, and the tiles were glaringly purple. The colors didn't matter at all; the kitchen was simply huge.

Elecmon made a quick run through the food and nodded in satisfaction. "Anything else?" he said to his partner.

Frankie shook his head. "Let's go."

The human-Digimon carefully balanced the food tray on his arms as Frankie simply held the kettle tray as if it was part of him. The duo walked out into a hallway that seemed to lead forever, leading into a large dining room with several low tables, lined around with cushions for sitting. Mimi, Hikari, and Miyako were sitting at a table alone, chatting, waving at the duo before they left through the sliding door that was open to the outside.

Everything on Destiny Island was huge. There was an enormous Villa, easily dwarfed the dark mansion Sanimon dwelled. It was modestly colored, grey and green, naturally mingled in the surrounding jungle. The yards were wild, its grasses nearly a couple feet tall, but not hiding the numerous stone paths that seemed to lead to everywhere. A widespread field, flat and empty was set beside the right side of the Villa and beyond it; a garden was hidden behind tall hedges. There were two smaller buildings near the Villa; once they were looked inside, they were bedrooms, separated for boys and girls. Frankie and Elecmon didn't head for them, instead walked down a thin trail to a small cottage behind the girls' bedroom building. The cottage was used for one person dwelling, and Frankie knew who was sleeping there, his heart softening at the thought.

At the door, Frankie saw Black Wargreymon sitting beside it, cross-legged, strangely in mediation. Just like everybody else, Frankie was very astonished and cautious to see that Black Wargreymon was alive once again and acted like a guardian over the Digidestined. Only Agumon reassured them that Black Wargreymon might have realized his mistakes and was seeking to correct them. It didn't explain how he got to life. Black Wargreymon refused to tell, simply staring back with calmness that the person asking quickly withdrew the question. But soon, they noticed that Black Wargreymon was strangely nice and calm, unlike the insane, fiery warrior he once was. The only thing he asked from them was forgiveness for his mistakes. Remembering how he defeated Vampdevimon and saved Cleo was good enough for everybody to forgive him.

As the duo neared, Black Wargreymon gazed up, his golden eyes dim. Frankie flashed him a grin. "Good afternoon, Black Wargreymon. How are Izzy and Cleo?"

Black Wargreymon glanced to the door and replied, "He has finally fallen asleep since last night."

Frankie exhaled a sigh of relief, worried for the redhead. "It's good. I know he stays up by her side all day and night, but it won't do him good if he doesn't get enough sleep."

"You don't need to worry," the warrior sounded reassuring. "Ruigumon and I are here to watch over her."

The warrior has chosen to be Cleo's 'other' guardian, sitting beside the door and watching every person entering. Taichi said that Cleo might be more important to the Digidestined than they thought so and it would be safer to have Black Wargreymon, an almighty warrior, to protect Cleo and make sure she won't be disturbed.

Elecmon was grinning, saying, "Don't forget about all of us. We are watching over her, too."

Black Wargreymon seemed to smile, though his black mask hid it. "Yes, and she needs your protection." His eyes slightly narrowed. "We cannot allow the Daemon Mother to find her."

"She will not find us here," was the Keeper's firm reply, and at that, Black Wargreymon nodded in satisfaction.

The fox nudged his partner with an elbow, "Come on, Frankie, they will get grumpy if we don't get the food to them." As Frankie chuckled, Elecmon gazed toward Black Wargreymon. "Would you like a fruit, too?"

Black Wargreymon actually looked lightly bashful, blinking. His voice was suddenly quiet, timid, "You're being too nice to me . . ."

Elecmon shook his head. "I don't have any grudge on you, not anybody else. For once, I'm glad you're on our side."

Black Wargreymon tilted his great head in mild curiosity. "Do you . . . trust me?"

"Seeing that you gave your life for Cleo's protection, yes, I do."

"I do, too," Frankie agreed as he gave the Mega a green banana. Black Wargreymon modestly took it and bowed deeply to them as they entered the cottage. Frankie's face softened, concerned as he regarded the sight before him. The room was small, meant for a person to sleep in the center. The walls were plain, painted light blue and the floor was wooden, squeaking under feet. At his right, a window was open, allowing the fresh air cleansing the room. Ruigumon was sitting there, staring. Frankie only can imagine the pain she was experiencing. And in the center . . . Poor Cleo . . . The tiny Watcher was in a bed, a feathery mattress with thick blankets tucked and up to her shoulders. She hasn't wakened in four days. She had lost consciousness when Daematermon got the ugly grey aura on her and no one had figured out how to wake her up. It was like she was in a coma.

He heard a yawn and turned to see the redhead sitting up from his own bedding, rubbing his tired eyes, aroused by Tentomon. He forced a merry smile. "Rise and shine!"

Tentomon lightly laughed, trying to straighten his messy red hair, as Koushiro grumbled, stretching his limbs. He glared back with deep black eyes. "You're awfully cheerful today, Frankie."

"It's only afternoon," Frankie said as he and Elecmon put the tray on a small table in the corner. "The day is still young."

Koushiro's glare faded into a sober visage that almost flared. His voice was low. "That's not what I mean . . ."

The Keeper knelt down, boldly meeting his gaze. "Koushiro, please." He didn't plead, just calm. The Warder didn't say anything more, keeping on staring back. There was an uneasy silence, and Elecmon cleared his throat to break it.

"Um, is everybody hungry?" he said, kneeling and elbowing Frankie.

"As a matter of fact, I am," Tentomon said, sitting down beside Koushiro and got him a banana. He even got the mango and handed it to Koushiro, who accepted it and silently peeled off the blue skin.

Frankie sighed, mentally thanking Tentomon, and turned to the other Digimon. "Ruigumon?"

The Butterfly turned her bald head and shook her head. There was agony in her orange eyes.

"Please, Ruigumon," Tentomon pleaded. "You need to gather your energy."

Ruigumon exhaled softly, but then knelt beside Frankie, absently eating nuts.

Frankie shook his head at the sad sight, wishing that he could cheer them up. He knew that it would be hard because Koushiro was very close to Cleo and was deeply anxious for her, and Ruigumon who sulked and scolded herself for not protecting her ward as she promised to. Everyone tried to cheer them, but they were too stubborn to allow any mirth in their present dark moods.

He wasn't here to cheer them up, but simply wanted to be with them for a while, giving them comfort when he can. He took the task to pour green tea in the five cups, asking the question that he knew will pain them further. "How is Cleo?"

The Digimon said nothing. Tentomon peered up to Koushiro worriedly as Elecmon buried his mouth in the mango, not wanting to say something wrong. Ruigumon's face darkened in silence. Koushiro froze in peeling off the last skin and sighed tiredly, glancing over to the sleeping Cleo. "Still sleeping, as you see. I'm getting worried, Frankie. She hasn't wakened since we got here." He frowned darkly. "Daematermon must have done that to her."

I know, I know . . . Frankie silently spoke, knowing what has happened. Koushiro repeated these words as if they were the only reasons he kept his anger on the Daemon Mother. Frankie almost felt the electric discharges around Koushiro's body, a rare result of his anger. Koushiro got solemn angry, and Frankie didn't recall a time when he saw him angry. He wasn't disturbed; he wasn't here to listen to his anger. "Calm down, Izzy."

His black eyes flashed at him. "That's what Tai said, Joe said, Kim, Cody, everybody. I can't calm down! Not when she's in a coma."

Frankie bristled, hardly getting upset that fast, but hearing the bitter words snapped at him for no apparent reason made him snap, too. He knew that Koushiro was lately caustic and grumpy, blaming the coma on himself and everybody. The group did understand; he must be very worried over Cleo, but not everybody was that sympathetic. Frankie didn't need to hear it again. His goal was to keep Koushiro reassured and calm. That was all.

He tightened his hand on the redhead's arm, voicing calmly, "Kou-kun, I'm not here to repeat what everybody else did. I want to send my time with you." His composed words somewhat chastised Koushiro, who bit his next words in the blue slice. Frankie attempted to grin at him, failed and sighed. "I know we can't idle while she is like this, but to be honest, there is nothing we can do for now. We are too weak against Vampdevimon and Daematermon, so we cannot do anything. We don't know what else to do. All we can do is rest, gather our energy, and try to figure what next to do." His hazel eyes slid over to the sleeping blonde. "Right now, at least, Cleo is safe, away from Daematermon. She will not find her. Prophetmon said so."

"Yeah, who left us," Ruigumon growled, almost throwing the nuts down on the tray.

"He said he will be back," Frankie tried to sound confident.

Ruigumon shook her head, her face darkened. "It doesn't matter if he will be back or not. He wasn't even trying to stay for a second! He's supposed to stay and protect my Cleo as he promised. Where is he?" No one had the answer, and Ruigumon took a quivering breath, eyes misting. "I . . . I apologize for my burst." Unable to control her tears, she departed.

Koushiro was watching the door closing, a pensive look in his face. "I understand what she feels. I admit that I was upset with Prophetmon, too, that he left so suddenly when he should've stayed . . . But then he must have a reason to leave . . ." His shoulders shrugged. "You are right, Frankie. She is safe . . . for now."

The Keeper watched the Warder eating some more slices before shifted his gaze back to the Watcher. He recalled the sudden change of events happening in the four days. He, as the rest, was surprised to see Prophetmon with the Fate Digimon showing up all of a sudden, out of the blue, halting the Daemon Mother before she could grab on the Crest of Heart, and forming a 'hole' in the air. When they got through the hole, they were even more surprised to see that they were at Destiny Island, the hole somewhat acting like some kind of door opening between dimensions.

Prophetmon, looking oddly shaken, particularly pleaded the party to remain here, for it was the safest place to hide from Daematermon. But before anybody could question him, he took a look at the comatose Cleo in Ruigumon's arms and got troubled. He seemed very upset, though he was suppressing his emotions. Again, he told the group to stay for their safety before he vanished, searching for answers, as he said.

Of course, no one understood. After many demands and questions, the Fate Digimon only can respond that there was nothing to do at the moment. The Digidestined considered to return home, ready to sleep in their real beds, but to their astonishment and fright, the four computer screens that were in the Villa were blank, unable to call up the Digiports. Something was blocking them from leaving. Some thought it was Daematermon while the others believed their D-3s weren't working this time. They were stuck here.

The Fate Digimon tried to explain as much as they can, not knowing much about what was happening, either. Akemimon mentioned that the Digiworld's time has speeded up by his demand in order to make the kids' time easier, so that the time in the Real World would slow down to a possible minute. Amayamon also added that it was safe and better for the Digidestined and the Destined Digimon to rest and get ready for the Final Battle, whenever it was, even though they didn't know how to defeat her yet. Black Wargreymon simply said that he was asked by Prophetmon to protect the Digidestined.

The Villa was built suitable for the group; it was like it was made just for them. They didn't have noticed the Villa last time because it was hidden on a huge wide-spaced glade in the middle of a jungle. The group accepted the Villa as their new home, quickly finding a secluded place for Cleo to sleep in peace and taking to sleep in their bedrooms,  exhausted; they had a bit of rest and no sleep. Cleo never woke up from her coma and everybody stayed by her, especially Koushiro, to make sure she was comfortable and in hopes that she would wake soon.

The Old Digimon seemed undisturbed in their human bodies, answering their partners' questions. They had experienced it before, during the three years between the first adventure and the New Kids' arrival. They had no idea how did the alteration be possible, only guessing from Vampdevimon's words that the data was merely altered, shifting the Digimon bodies into human bodies. The only problem the Digimon-humans - now called as the Gijinka Digimon - had was that they lost their attacks and attributes during the alteration. They were defenseless. There was the other reason why the Digidestined decided to stay at Destiny Island, to protect their now helpless Digimon. No one really knew why the Digimon were in their human bodies. Perhaps Vampdevimon was the only one who knew.

With all the strange happenings, some of the group knew that there were answers somewhere that were supposed to help them out. The riddles remained unsolved. Prophetmon was nowhere to find. Cleo was in a coma. The Digidestined were stuck, unable to return home. But Vampdevimon or Daematermon hasn't attacked, which could be a good thing balanced against the bad things. Everybody began to relax, though still concerned of what happened on the other lands. The Fate Digimon won't let them to leave the island, for it was too dangerous.

It was four days since they first met the Daemon Mother. It was a long and restless rest.

***

Wild laughing filled the air as an open flat field was used for soccer playing.

The Old Kids were restless, worried, but the New Kids were still kids and they can't stand the uneasy silence and impatient anxiety. They wished to cheer the group up, and so all the New Kids and their Digimon decided to have a day to play soccer for simple fun. The open field, laying in between the Villa and a maze-like garden, was perfect for playing.

Hikari sat on a long bench under a wide roof at the side of the field, watching with Michael. Lopmon was sitting on her lap, also watching. The rest were running, passing the soccer ball around - there was a small storage filled with sport stuff, to the kids' surprise - shooting it and blocking. Hikari thought, at first, it was strange because they were playing while the Digiworld was in danger. But then, as Miyako told her, it will do them good because too much sadness, gloom, and fear were hanging in the air and a bit cheer will help them feel better. Hikari agreed, smiling with mirth, as she enjoyed the game. Michael wasn't a soccer fan, but had volunteered to be one of the cheerleaders, whooping his team on.

One team had Daisuke, Takeru, Miyako, Veemon, Patamon, Hawkmon, and Betamon as the goalie. Of course, Michael would cheer that team on, because of his Digimon. Hikari cheered for the other team, which had Ken, Iori, Willis, Wormon, Terriermon, Gatomon, and the perfect goalie, Armadillomon. There were no rules; they just wanted to have fun and encouraged the less enthusiastic players to join in.

"Come on, man!" Michael cupped his mouth with a hand and stabbed the air with the other fist as he barked at Hawkmon. Hawkmon had the ball at his claws, surprisingly swift as he dodged Terriermon. Michael suppressed a groan as Willis clumsily stole the ball from Hawkmon, making him trip. The blonde quickly passed it to Iori before Daisuke collapsed into him. Iori was fast, to Hikari's surprise, but recalling one of the 'side effects' from Iori's Power, which helped him run faster, half as fast as Koushiro. Iori neared the goal, where Betamon nervously waited, his ruby eyes on the spinning ball. Iori looked eager and mischievous as he passed the ball to Gatomon, who shot the ball right in the net.

Hikari's cheers drowned in her team's shouts of delight, Lopmon silently giggling and bouncing on her lap. But the cheers were short, for the other team was eager to score.

"Aw," Michael muttered good-naturedly as he returned to his seat beside Hikari. After a minute watching some more, he smiled, turning to her, saying, "I never know that soccer can be so fun."

Hikari nodded in agreement. "It's really amazing that I still enjoy it, even that I had watched my brother and Davis countless times."

"Still, I prefer basketball."

"Bet you that I'm better." He gave her a charming grin.

Boys will be boys, she thought, but then amiably smiled back. For several more moments, the Saint and Patron, along with Lopmon, enjoyed the game. Daisuke's team was winning, but really, no one cared. They played just for fun.

"So, this is soccer . . ."

The soft, deep voice behind didn't startle Hikari and Michael, though surprised them that someone new was here on Destiny Island. Turning around, they found a tortoise standing beside them, peering over the log. He looked very ancient, though he didn't show it. Powerful wisdom burned in his black button eyes, which were watching the game through tiny spectacles. Standing on short legs, he seemed to be slightly shorter than Iori, dressed in a plain dark green robe. The green-grey shell on his back was wide and thick, its plates large and blue-tinted.

Hikari might be surprised to see this new Digimon, but even more surprisingly, she saw Sanimon standing behind the Tortoise Digimon, giving him a fond smile before silently looked at her.

"Oh . . . It's a surprise to see another Digimon here . . ." Hikari's tan eyes slightly narrowed toward the red-robed childlike Digimon. "Especially you, Sanimon." Her voice didn't hold disdain, just composed.

Sanimon bowed, her voice equally calm, "I have my reasons to be here, Saint."

Hikari watched her for a moment, and then quietly spoke, "I have to admit that . . ." Her smile was warm and welcome. "It's nice to see you again, Sanimon."

Sanimon noticed her smile and also grinned, somewhat relieved and grateful. The last caution between them evaporated, replaced with trust. "It warms my heart to hear your words." She then turned her golden eyes to the Tortoise, who was still watching the game with fascination. Her voice turned playful. "Oldster, do you always forget to introduce yourself?"

He turned around to frown at her with mock annoyance. "I didn't forget!"

"Senile." Sanimon smiled.

The Tortoise waved a dismissing paw toward the Guardian, muttering to the kids, "Ignore her. I'm Vesamon."

Vesamon? Why did it sound familiar . . .? Realization dawned on Hikari's face. "Vesamon! TK told me about you!"

Vesamon looked bashful. "Oh, he did? What did he say about me?"

"And conceited, too," Sanimon added, grinning at Vesamon's grumbling.

Michael laughed, addressing Vesamon, "Are you one of the Guardians, like Sanimon?"

"Guardian? Me?" He cackled, shaking his head. "I'm just a regular, old Digimon. It's bad enough to stick around with her!" He stabbed a thumb toward Sanimon.

"I'm feeling so loved here, Vesamon," Sanimon said, batting her eyelashes, nudging him.

Stay away, womon!"

The Tortoise and the Guardian seemed to be long and good friends that the kids grinned at that; such friendships were rare. Hikari wondered how they met. Sanimon was isolated and preferred to remain at her mansion-temple, and from what she knew from Takeru, Vesamon was a hermit.

Michael again asked both, "How did you get here? I thought Destiny Island is inaccessible."

"Not to the Guardians," Sanimon responded. "I was asked to come here, along with Vesamon."

"By Prophetmon," Vesamon added, now seriously looking around. Hikari thought she saw recognition in the black eyes.

"Vesamon!" Sanimon hissed, wide-eyed to him. "We must not say his name!"

Hikari immediately understood; Prophetmon was concealed all his life and very few had personally met him. No one really knew his real name, called him only by 'The Prophet'. "It's alright," she said. "We already know about him and met him. Cleo introduced him."

Sanimon looked astonished and slightly grimaced. "She did . . .?" She appeared to consider it, and then sighed. "Prophetmon must have a reason to let you know about him . . ."

Vesamon shrugged, smiling. "He is cryptic and you know that." But Hikari again noticed the secrecy in his eyes; did he personally know Prophetmon? Vesamon took a long gaze around the field, the Villa and the distant garden before turned back to Hikari and Michael. "Is Prophetmon here somewhere? I must talk with him."

Michael shook his curly hair. "No, he left four days ago."

Vesamon looked anxious. " . . . I hope he is okay . . ."

"Vesamon!" Hikari heard Takeru's excited voice bursting in the air.

Vesamon sharply looked up and his face softened into a kind grin. Takeru was running toward them, his face full of surprise and gladness. Hikari also grinned; Takeru must be excited to see one of his newfound friends present. "Why, hello, Savior," Vesamon laughed as he welcomed the boy in his embrace.

"TK, you ruined the game!" Daisuke grumbled, his eyebrows crossed, as the rest arrived slower in curiosity.

"Hush, Davis," Hikari giggled, elbowing him into silence.                                                               

Takeru knelt beside, pleasant. "I never thought to see you here! I never had to chance to thank you for what you did for us."

Vesamon grunted, but grinned. "Seeing you well is just good enough for this old tortoise." He then regarded him carefully and satisfyingly, his paw reaching to touch the fair hair. "You've grown up into a handsome boy."

Takeru's cheeks slightly blushed because of the chuckling boys behind him, but then hugged Vesamon again. "I really miss you."

"TK, who is he?" Ken questioned politely.

"Oh, sorry about that," Takeru stood up, smoothing his green robe, and gestured toward Vesamon. "This is Vesamon, my dear friend. When we were trapped here, Vesamon took care of me, Sora, and Izzy. I never forget his kindness."

Vesamon nodded at the brief introductions given by the other Digidestined and Digimon, and then looked at Takeru. "Speaking of which, how are the Seeker and Warder?"

"Oh, they will be so thrilled to see you!" Takeru grinned. "We should introduce you to the rest."

Sanimon quickly withdrew a hand from her enfolded sleeves and held up an index finger. "In a minute . . ."

At that, Vesamon rolled his eyes and glanced at her. "Oh, Sanimon, must you? Look, they already received them." For some reason, he even tugged on Takeru's green robe for emphasis.

Sanimon giggled, tried to keep a serious face. "I know that. I'm just curious at how they did it."

"Did what?" Daisuke demanded.

"You found your Armor Powers, right?"

"You knew?" Willis was surprised, but Hikari knew. He was the only Old Kid who didn't know about Sanimon's role.

"Judge, I'm known as the Guardian of the Digidestined. I always know," Sanimon replied with a smile. "And plus, your outfits already showed it."

"And you came here to say that to us?" Iori was puzzled.

The Guardian shook her head. "No, I was asked by Prophetmon to come here to help you. But I don't think I need to. You seem to handle it fine."

"How unusual . . ." Vesamon grunted, crossing his arms.

"Something wrong?" Michael questioned.

"Oh, nothing really. I'm just surprised that Prophetmon asked us to leave our homes to here. I know that we aren't safe over there, but then . . ." Vesamon adjusted his eyeglasses, his motion seeming anxious. "He sounded really insistent. I know him well; he isn't a commanding person."

Sanimon agreed. "He's been acting strange lately. Have you noticed such actions from him?"

"He seemed upright when he brought us here," Gatomon reported. "He was upset about something and told us to stay here and not to stray."

"Interesting . . ." She made a small shrug, though worried. "Well, it doesn't matter right now. You are safe and in one piece, which I'm thankful. You got your powers, so we will need all the help we can get to defeat Daematermon."

The Kids and Digimon grew grim, nodding, understanding. Then, Willis, who was sitting back against the log, shook his head as if he was puzzled. "Wait a minute . . . I didn't have the chance to ask before, and now I want to know." His cobalt eyes shifted up to Hikari and Takeru. "I have a feeling that you already know about our powers before we did. After all, you used them to help me."

So, the secret had to be out. Hikari didn't need to look at Takeru to know the answer. She knew that someday, their friends will find out and demand to know how they knew about the Armor Powers. It was only fair to them. Hikari faintly smiled, saying, "You are right, Willis. We did know about the Armor Powers, but not from what you think. When we first got our Digieggs, these powers woke through and we weren't certain if we are the only ones to have them. But then since you do have Armor Digieggs, you might have the powers, too. So you didn't know about the Armor Powers while we already know."

It was true of what happened. In the cave where they first saw the Armor Digieggs of Hope and Light, Takeru and Hikari got a funny feeling, a new spirit coming in their bodies. They then knew by receiving the Digieggs. In the flashes of light, in the instants, they immediately simply knew that they had new powers from the Armor Digieggs, even seen the changes of their clothes and new weapons. The new powers then were veiled along with their Nature Powers, not ready to be used. Iori never knew about it. Takeru and Hikari wanted to tell them that they will have powers, but by then, Taichi had 'forbidden' them to reveal their powers, and so they kept the new powers a secret, not even letting the older kids know about them. Takeru and Hikari weren't feeling guilty to tell, for they suspected that someday, something will happen to the New Kids and they will get their powers.

When they saw Willis receiving his new Power, they decided that it was time for them to freely use their new powers to aid him.

The New Kids looked surprised and puzzled. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?" Miyako asked.

Hikari sighed. "We could, but . . ."

"They could tell," Sanimon added, "But they know that you have to find your powers on your own."

"Just like we did," Takeru nodded.

Hikari noticed slight pain coming on Sanimon's face and remembered her own time when she had to defeat the Guardian to save her brother. The Guardian was nodding. "Yes, TK and Kari are already exposed to their Nature Powers, so their bodies, their minds are open to other powers." She glanced to Takeru and Hikari. "Your powers woke instantly because you were ready." Then she looked back to the other new Kids. "The rest of you, you weren't ready, so for a time, your Powers slept until certain events triggered to the awakening."

The Kids slowly comprehended. "Yes," Iori understood, "our Protectors were in trouble, so we called on our powers for the first time."

"What did it happen?"

"About four days ago, I believe."

Sanimon blinked in disapproval. "That recent? At the same time?" As the Kids nodded, she shook her head. "Unusual."

Daisuke glanced to his friends in puzzlement, then to her. "Why would it be unusual?"

The red-robed Digimon hid her hands in the wide sleeves thoughtfully. "Don't you find it odd that your powers woke at the same time? Doesn't it seem  . . . too coincidental?"          

"You are right," Takeru had to admit, his face pondering. "We found our other powers randomly."

Even so, everybody except me and Frankie found their powers almost at the same time, Hikari added to her thoughts. Still, he is right.

"And even so, it might be coincidental," Ken said. "We got our powers altogether is because, maybe, after our battle with Vampdevimon, somehow we all got trapped in the Old Kids' memories and we -"

Vesamon sharply cut him off, "Wait!" His eyes were wide, startled. "You said you got trapped in memories? What kind of memories?"

Ken answered, "They were memories where the Old Kids met their dark selves."

The Tortoise narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "Before that happened . . . did you experience a white light and . . . distortion, chaos?" When all the kids nodded in response, his face softened, shaking his head. "It's the doing of Daematermon, I know it."

How did he know about Daematermon? Hikari wondered. "Daematermon did that to us? How?"

Vesamon looked up to her and there was dread in his black eyes. "Daematermon is the Final Evil."

The Kids and Digimon murmured and gasped in astonished disbelief. Miyako set her hand at the height of a small child, her eyes wide. "Daematermon? That Digimon that looks like a little girl?"

"You saw her?" Sanimon sharply turned to her, also incredulous. At the nod, she hissed an inhale through clenched teeth and glanced to Vesamon, who was suddenly saddened and concerned.

Vesamon again adjusted his eyeglasses, this time in troubled caution. "Not even Apocalypmon's and Myalomyotismon's Powers could match up to hers. She has attacks that are unheard and mysterious. The one she probably used on you is called 'Dark Nostalgia'. It can send a victim within a memory that has the darkest moment of his life, a memory that can keep him trapped. It's a perfect trap for anybody to stay out of the way, the memory being too real that it distorts the reality." He eyed the New Kids with puzzlement, and then shook his head. "Perhaps, she used it to call on the Nature Children's memories to 'keep them away'."

"But how did we get in the memories?" Michael asked. "They aren't ours."

Hikari found it puzzling. If what Vesamon said was true, it didn't seem to fit with what she had seen at the dark beach. It was possible that the dark beach was from Cleo's memories since she was there many times, but it was her first time to face her dark self. How could it be possible to experience a memory if Cleo never remembered it? If Takeru, Hikari, and Willis did experience the Dark Nostalgia, how come that they didn't get in the memories as the other New Kids did? She glanced briefly to Takeru, who looked puzzled, then to Willis, who was gazing back. He shared her thoughts and was bewildered, too.

Vesamon was shrugging at Michael's question, not knowing the answer. "It's a mystery . . . Maybe you got sucked in."

"Even so," Sanimon pondered, "it was possible that it triggered your powers to wake up that quick."

Miyako made a half-smile, seeming amused of something. "So, in a way, Daematermon helped us find our powers."

Some of the kids glanced to her in agreement, and Vesamon nodded. "Indeed."

Daisuke sat down beside Willis and crossed his arms. "Well, I think it doesn't matter anymore about this Dark Nostalgia. We got our powers as we're supposed to be, and our Protectors are safe."

"Except Cleo . . ." Willis murmured softly, bowing his head.

Again, Sanimon was demanding as she asked, "What happened, Judge?"

Willis didn't answer, closed his eyes. Terriermon and Lopmon quickly were at his side, murmuring comfort. Daisuke threw his arm around his shoulders and gave him comfort as Hikari spoke, "Cleo is in some kind of coma . . . She won't wake up . . . we think Daematermon did it to her." Her voice was heavy with worry, as well as the worry on the others' faces. Cleo may be the newest Digidestined, but still, she was important and a sweet friend.

Sanimon stared back, almost angry of something, perhaps at Daematermon as Vesamon sadly shook his head, reaching down to rub the Judge's shoulder for relief. Sanimon glanced down to Willis, who she knew that was Cleo's ward. Her lips tightened, but then she said calmly, "I see that there is much more to what you are saying, so won't we save it for later when we have time? It's getting dark."

The sky wasn't darkening that far, but the sun was sinking already, near the horizon, and the eastern sky was turning darker blue. Miyako suggested returning to the Villa, for the Old Kids would like to see Sanimon and Vesamon again. The Kids and Digimon gathered their soccer stuff and they were on their way, walking down a stone path that was wide, leading straight from the Villa, past the boundary of the field, toward the garden's entrance. They only walked for a minute before Sanimon realized something.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Sanimon said. As Vesamon muttered something about making an elder waiting too long, she walked around to Michael and gazed up to his face. "Have you told them about your power, Reality Child?"

Reality Child? Hikari, along with the rest, turned to Michael in puzzlement. The blonde was taken back at Sanimon's words, and then frowned uneasily. "Sanimon, I promised my -"

"Promises, schmromises! You know it's not necessary to keep it a secret." Sanimon gestured toward the New Kids. "They have powers. You have other powers. Let them know."

Michael looked like he wanted to refuse, but then he sighed, running a hand through his curly hair.

"What's she talking about, Glass?" Takeru asked gently.

"TK, you should've known this already," Sanimon said with a slight smile. "Every group of Digidestined has its own unique powers. Your Protectors are called as the Children of the Nature because they control Nature. You, the Children of the Armor, are such named because you used the Armor Digieggs as powers." There were far more powers? Hikari was incredulous. The idea of having powers no longer sounded mystic, now seemed mundane.

"Then how come you call him a Reality Child?" Armadillomon questioned.

Sanimon nodded, "Because he and his other friends do have powers, different from yours, called as the Children of the Reality."

Hikari nodded that Michael looked somewhat embarrassed, rubbing his head. He didn't seem abashed of his power, didn't see his power as big deal.

"You have another power?" Iori murmured.

Michael then smiled and nodded. "Yes, I do have another power." He held up six fingers. "There are six powers that my friends and I control: Time, Fate, Force, Energy, Space, and Shape."

"How do they work as Powers?" Daisuke asked the question everybody else was thinking.

"These powers are what control the universe. Like the Old Kids control Nature and you control Armor Digieggs, we, the Children of Reality, control the Powers of Reality. Let me explain more." Michael explained that the powers were what ruled the universe itself, how to keep it going. Maria, the little Hispanic girl, controlled Shape, in which was that she can use it to change objects, energy, basically everything in shape. Whatever texture, material, or substance, she can easily change it into a completely different object. Lou, the Hopi Digidestined, controlled Force, which were gravity and magnetism altogether. Picking up things, pulling them down, or throwing them was his specialty.

The French-Canadian Tatum had her power of Energy. She can take pure energy use it as a force, throwing it as balls or streaks. Scientifically, creating or destroying energy is impossible, but Michael mentioned that Tatum can do that with no problems. Steve, the Jewish boy, used Space as his power. Space seemed to be simple, yet complex, for Steve can use it to stretch direction to make it seem that he was standing miles and miles away or squeeze it, making Steve moving closer and closer without actually moving in place. Michael said it was useful to escape from a battle they didn't want to face, Steve simply stretching the distance in between, pushing the battling Digimon miles away.

Phil and Michael's powers were most difficult. Phil controlled Fate, which was very odd and mysterious. The Power didn't make Phil psychic or knowing what will happen in the future. Fate worked differently. He can use his power to control Fate itself, finding possibilities at the moment and change Fate to favor them. It was an uncontrollable power and didn't always work that way as he expected. It could happen anytime, without a warning, could be either good or bad, could be anything. Michael's Power was Time. He can simply stop Time in motion, speed it up, and age an object forward and backward.

The group was awed, amazed with the infinite possibilities to use these powers, Time being most interested, for everybody knows that Time cannot be controlled or even seen or felt.

"Can you really go back in time?" Daisuke asked.

Michael shook his head. "There are limits to my powers. To me, Time is alive, eternal, and cannot be changed once it is past. I cannot go back in time physically, but I can see back in time and see the near future, too. Also, I cannot stop Time too long. Time is too strong for me to control fully. Phil and I have difficulty controlling our powers and the rest are capable to use their powers with little problems."

"How does Time affect you?" Wormon voiced. "What are the side effects?"

Michael thought for a moment, and then said, "I can sense a person in time. Like I'm sensing you guys right now, and I can sense someone in the near past or in the near future. It's like someone leaves its body print in the fabric of Time."

"Like a footprint in the mud," Betamon helped out.

"Sounds like Time is prophetic," Takeru said.

The Patron chuckled. "Not exactly. It works really different."

Takeru nodded, and then grinned. "If you don't mind, can you show a bit of your power?"

Hikari thought she saw a twinkle of mischief in the ice-blue eyes, making Michael much alike to his Protector. Michael arched an eyebrow, grinning foxily. "Sure, I can do that, but are you sure you are ready for this?"

The rest nodded, but Sanimon made a cautious squeal and shuffled out of the way, standing far. "Keep me out of this."

Michael laughed. "Fair enough." He jerked a thumb to her, saying to the Kids, "I did that to her one time."

"Hmpf!" Sanimon crossed her arms, but still she smiled, as Betamon wisely bounced to her side, also staying out of the way.

Hikari had to laugh; she wondered what Michael did to the Guardian before and wondered what can he do to the New Kids . . . It was bizarre. First, she remembered that she was chuckling, standing beside Miyako, the next second, she felt ripples in the air, feeling like water against her skin and through it, as well. Then she found herself restfully cradling in Daisuke's strong arms, her arms around his neck. Patamon was sitting on Daisuke's head, perching as he would on Takeru's head. Daisuke blinked, looking down in great perplexity. Hikari was confused, too, and then looked around at the surprised yelps.

Around her, the Kids and Digimon were in funny stances. Willis seemed to dance with Veemon and Hawkmon, hands in paws and feather-hands, dancing in a circle. They were astonished and let go of each other, looking at each other in bewilderment. Takeru was 'buried' by Miyako, who was laying on her stomach on his back, Gatomon on Miyako's back, and in turn, Wormon sat on Gatomon's back, too, making a pyramid. Wormon hurriedly crawled off her before Gatomon leaped off in surprise. Miyako withdrew herself off and helped Takeru to his feet, both blushing. Iori was piggy-backed on Ken's back, both faintly amused, and beside them, poor Vesamon and Armadillomon were on their shelled backs, rocking slightly. It was a moment before they squealed, trying to get up.

"Michael, ya blockhead!" Armadillomon hollered as he insanely rocked on his shell after a failed attempt to get up.

Michael, Sanimon, and Betamon were rolling on the ground, laughing hard, tears streaming on their faces. Iori and Ken hastened to gently help Vesamon and Armadillomon up to their feet.

Vesamon had a distant look in his face as he glared at Michael. "You could've warned us . . ."

Sanimon managed to respond, "He already did," between giggles.

"Thanks, man!" Daisuke guffawed as he tightened his hold on Hikari. "I got Kari!" Hikari realized that she was in his arms for a bit too long, and she quickly got off, to his disappointment. She tried to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she dusted her clothes.

"You stopped Time, right?" Takeru wondered.

Michael shook his head. "Just around you. I can't stop time everywhere, but only around you." He the grinned. "Hey, don't blame everything on me. Sanimon and Betamon had the ideas."

"Good way to play a prank, huh?" Daisuke grinned mischievously, a new twinkle in his tawny eyes.

"You betcha!" Michael also had the same twinkle.

Miyako whirled at them, glaring. "You wouldn't dare!"

The Patron and Brother only stared back innocently.

Hikari giggled, and then asked Michael, "I'm curious . . . only your friends have these powers?"

"Yep."                                      

"Then why can't Willis have one?"

Willis blinked and turned to her. "What do you mean, Kari?"

"You are an American Digidestined, like him. Shouldn't you have one of those Reality Powers?"

Michael was shaking his head. "So far, as I know, these are only six powers of Reality."

Hikari expected the answer. "Yes, but we didn't know that there are eleven powers of Nature, not ten." There could be even more that she didn't know.

The Judge shrugged. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Does it matter?" Hikari also shrugged, for she didn't know for sure.

"Guys," Iori murmured, sounding fascinated, "I just realized something. If we and the American Digidestined have powers, perhaps, don't you think that the other Digidestined might have similar powers?"

The kids grinned, thinking of the possibilities. "For a reason," Miyako said, her dun eyes sparkling, "I don't doubt that. I wonder what kind of powers Yuri, Sonya, and Tanya have."

"The Poi brothers and Mira . . ." Hikari remembered.

"Derek," Iori nodded.

"Catherine!" Takeru chuckled.

"Even little Rosa," Ken voiced.

"Hey, Sanimon, which powers do they have?" Daisuke was curious, leaning toward her.

Sanimon chuckled, but shook her head. "I can't tell you until you earn their trust. Besides it's best to ask them." Winking at the disappointed face of Daisuke, she turned on her feet and headed for the Villa.

Vesamon rolled his eyes once again, a juvenile action for the ancient Digimon. "Sanimon can be sly when she wants to." He then rolled up his sleeves, a grin on his beak. "Now, shall we go back? I want to cook you dinner."

Takeru suddenly laughed, slapping his forehead. "That's right! I hope your delicious stew looks much better than before!"

Vesamon gasped in mock offense, but the grin was still there. "Gracious good! I will cook you the most delicious meal, no matter how ugly it looks!" Together, the blonde and Tortoise walked down the path, laughing, leaving the rest in amused puzzlement.

Veemon turned to them, pointing to the duo, saying, "Funny, despite what he said, I'm getting hungry!"

***

The New Kids may seem optimistic and preferred not to brood over negative feelings and words, but the Old Kids knew better. They were the oldest Digidestined around and had high connection with the Digimon and the world itself. They knew how the world and Digimon feel very well, because of their Nature Powers, which allowed them to understand what they feel, what they suspect, and now they felt something not right about the world. Recently, from the moment the party arrived to Destiny Island by the aid of Prophetmon and the Fate Digimon, they experienced something new, something odd. They began to feel strange ripples coming out of nowhere. They weren't visible to their eyes, but they were there, the Old Kids' skins receiving sensations like rippling water brushing. It wasn't the air at all, feeling too different. There was some kind of force happening, they weren't sure, but they did feel like there was a change somewhere in the Digiworld, a change of life, a change of sensation. There was something wrong with the world right now, could be, but there was no sensation of wrongness or danger in the ripples.

The Digiworld was changing.

Each Old Kid had his/her own sensation and experience in the elements of Nature. Mimi was the first to feel the change, feeling the very essence of the Digiworld changing. She said that the world's essence seemed bright and colorful, like neon electricity, the essence as waves, billowing outward from its core. Now the waves were lessening and weakening until Mimi could only see the tips of the waves just above the ground. Also, she mentioned that she saw the leaves of flora were turning colors. Not like autumn, in which the leaves turned colors. They were turning into the color of black. Not the charred, burned black, but polished black, like the leaves were carved straight from obsidian and yet remained as real leaves. The leaves were first tipped black and Mimi didn't notice it at first, but slowly, the blackness began to spread over the leaves, didn't touch the other parts of flora, just the leaves, until black leaves silently swayed in the breezes. Mimi didn't like it at all, feeling nothing of the essence from the black leaves.

Soon, one by one, the Old Kids began to get wrong sensations in Nature. Kimika mentioned that she saw faint auroras sparkling in the sky, even in the board sunlight, even when no one else can see them, budging and 'dancing'. Also, she felt like that everything became fuzzy. She knew that it wasn't her eyes at all, but just knowing that the surroundings seemed messed-up, like they were watered down and faded. Taichi didn't understand why was that he felt heat decreasing from the sun and around him. The heat wasn't cooled down at all, just fading away until Taichi felt a strange lukewarm feeling, strange warmth that didn't feel warm. Empty warmth.

Yamato seemed tenser and it was because he heard more voices of the decreased, now disturbing him with wails and whispers of woe. The spirits seemed to refuse to go away from his demands, insisting to wander around him, their old hands touching him, their unheard voices filling his head. He didn't go insane, but remained troubled. He said that it was the first time the spirits acted odder than before, and he didn't know how to reassure them. Maybe they seemed afraid about the Final Battle, but when he asked them about that, the spirits never answered. He often had to quiet their voices by humming a tune or playing his harmonica, music the only way to calm the spirits down.

Jyou began to see odd mists coming in from nowhere, drifting around his legs, colored strange blue-white, and they didn't feel wet. He received no sensation of wetness, and that puzzled him greatly. Frankie felt the same as Taichi. He can feel coldness even in heat, and even so, he felt coldness fading away until he felt lukewarm, feeling empty in the odd warmth. The winds seemed dead to Sora, blowing just like real winds, but didn't feel alive, like breaths of the dead. Koushiro's ability to sense electricity in living bodies was lost. He no longer felt life in anything, couldn't feel energy at all.

And oddly, the New Kids felt nothing of this, puzzled at their Protectors' uneasiness of the changes in elements. Not even the Digimon could feel the changes, except the Fate Digimon, who also felt the ripples and saw the black leaves, although they didn't sense the other changes the Old Kids had felt. Is the world really changing? If so, what for? Maybe it was because of the Final Battle, but it was like the world seemed to know it. The Old Kids didn't really like the changes, beginning to take caution against the coming Final Battle, wondering what will happen.

***

Sanimon recalled only one time that she had eaten a meal with the Digidestined and Digimon, and it was when she foolishly obeyed Metalseadramon's demands and nearly killed the Master before the Saint destroyed her. Sanimon shuddered at the pain and oblivion she had experienced, but the vow she held as a Guardian brought her back, thankfully. She felt humble and was more than willing to serve any Digidestined, especially Hikari, which she had given great respect for the girl. She vowed not to hurt anything, vowed to aid the Digidestined whenever they need her, even though there was not much that she had except for the backgrounds she had of them. She thought that she would be always looked upon with caution, just because she followed one of the Dark Masters. She accepted the punishment, knew of the outcome of her disobedience to her duty. She knew she will be an outcast among the Guardians, as well. She also thought that the older Digidestined would cast her some distrusting gazes and give her the cold shoulder.

That's why it was a surprise to her that all the Digidestined were acting friendly to her like they knew her for years. They weren't acting fake at all. No, they had so much loyalty, friendship and trust in each other that they didn't see any reason why they should still distrust her. Sure, there was the light caution in some of the eyes, mainly in Yamato's, but once Hikari displayed her newfound trust in her, they began to radiate amazing friendship toward her that she felt awed under them. They even invited her to sit at one of the two long tables in the dining room, merrily chatting about the adventures of both the Digiworld and Earth. Sitting in between of Gomamon and Hikari, Sanimon watched in warm gladness, eating a piece of meat pie, as the kids and Digimon around her laughed, yelled, and muttered. The voices were overwhelming to her, the words mingled into each other, but strangely, she could almost hear the harmony in the voices, showing that they were meant for each other, meant to remain friends for life. She felt the same for Prophetmon and she missed him already.

Vesamon, despite Takeru's and even Sora's terrible teases about his funny stew, actually cooked marvelous meals. The meals weren't the same to what the Digidestined used to forge. The meals were cultural from Earth, meals from the Digidestined's homes, Japan and America. There were sushi, halibut dishes, fruit muffins, meat pies, several other meals, along with lemonade, milk, and soda pop that the kids were astonished to find present. Vesamon just grinned shrewdly when asked about how he knew about Earth meals and muttered that everybody had to question a chef. Vesamon wasn't eating here; he took some dishes and went to eat with Koushiro and Ruigumon alone. Black Wargreymon had joined them. The Fate Digimon were sitting on the floor, away for the tables, their sizes too great for they to properly eat at the tables, but enjoyed chatting, as well.

Sanimon finished her meat pie and just began to nibble on grapes when she felt Taichi's eyes on her. He was sitting across from her and she was surprised to see him quiet and not involved in the conversation. He already had, but now he was looking questioningly at her, as if he wanted to say something. When Sanimon met his gaze, Taichi smiled and leaned forward, his voice clearly heard to her under the mixed voices.

"Is it okay if I ask you a question?"

Sanimon allowed a slight smile on her lips and nodded.

"How much do you know about Daematermon?"

Her body stiffened and it wasn't because of the name of the Daemon Mother. It was the firmness and authority in the Master's voice. Surprisingly, no one seemed to hear him, keeping on talking, while the gazes of the Master and the Guardian of the Digidestined remained on each other. Taichi didn't look troubled or serious. Just curious with the faintest hint of determination. Sanimon allowed a small sigh out, leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and voiced, "I wish you don't have to ask this during a lull, Master."

Taichi shrugged knowingly. "Yet, I need to know about her." He gazed around his friends, even though they weren't paying attention. "We all need to know."

"You don't know much about her?" she was perplexed.                 

"Well, there are several details about her, but there are too many holes in between."

"So . . . you need me to fill in the holes to make this clear."

"Yes, Daematermon's history, how she came to be like that."

Sanimon quieted, watching the persuasion on his face, and then pushed away her plate. She then enfolded her hands, her wide sleeves seeming to drape over them. She can tell him as much as she knew from the knowledge she inherited as a Guardian, but . . . someone had asked her, almost ordered her not to reveal any information based on what she was going to tell Taichi. It wasn't a demand. It was a plea. Her heart had softened and she agreed to secure the knowledge away from anybody. But he didn't demand to keep everything she knew a secret, just his identity.

Sanimon slowly nodded and met Taichi's gaze. "I only can tell what I can because I was vowed not to reveal any specific information unless he allowed me."

She saw the light disappointment in the pale tan eyes, but then it was replaced with understanding. "He? Who is he?"

"I can't tell you his real name, but I can tell what his Heart-Name was. It's Tears."

"Tears? Why was he called that way?" said another curious voice. Sanimon nearly jumped in surprise as Miyako joined them, sitting beside Taichi. For a moment, she was astonished to see the same authority, the same leadership in Taichi and Miyako as she had seen in this Tears person. Miyako didn't have the bold determination Taichi had, but there was certainty and willingness in her face that stated she wasn't going to be left behind in the conversation and felt that she had the right to listen in. Taichi gave the lavender-haired girl an admiring grin, and then turned back to Sanimon, waiting for her answer.

The red-robed Digimon shook her head. "I can't tell you why. You ask him." She tightened her lips, showing that she couldn't tell anymore about him.

The boy nodded in understanding, and she wondered what had happened to the reckless, risk-loving boy she met. Of course, the adventures had changed the Digidestined, but sometimes, she was nostalgic. He continued, "Go ahead, Sanimon."

She cast him a thankful smile and spoke, "The identity of the Daemon Mother might be a shock to you, or perhaps, it will not. Daematermon was once a Digimon Guardian of a Digidestined."

Miyako's jaw dropped in astonishment and shook her head in bewilderment as Taichi frowned in displeasure. "A Destined Digimon?" he said. "Whose Digidestined?"

Sanimon held up her hands. "Let me finish and I will answer questions. Daematermon wasn't once who she is now. She was Wisimon, a Rookie, a rare ghost Digimon, who was chosen to guard one of the five Digidestined. Those five Digidestined came here before you, called as the Fallen Children because they failed to defeat Daematermon. You see, Wisimon was the only Digimon who couldn't digivolve. Her Digidestined was the only one who didn't have a Golden Digivice. The Golden Digivices were very ancient and we believed that they were made from a source that we don't know of. Maybe the Unmons made them. Your former Digivices were designed after them."

"If Wisimon couldn't digivolve, how did she get to the Mega Stage?" Taichi demanded.

"No one really knows how. One source said that Wisimon got so angry that she couldn't digivolve to help fight along with her other Digimon fellows, so . . .  her rage forced her to wrap-digivolve into Daematermon. Others said she had help." She shrugged. "We don't really know."

"How come that Daematermon was called the First Evil?" Miyako asked.

"Before her, there was no ultimate evil existing in the Digiworld. Oh, we did have serious battles and wars, but we never had a Villain Digimon, a Digimon who wanted to reign over the world or wanted to destroy it. Daematermon was the first, and so we called her the First Evil and also the Final Evil because there is a prophecy that she will return and the Fallen Children must come to finish the war."

"Told by Prophetmon, right?" Taichi said, eying her carefully. Sanimon expressed nothing, simply nodded. Inwardly, she again felt the anxiety and eeriness she got when she last talked with Prophetmon. She worried deeply for him. The way he spoke of his future, the future he thought that he will meet death scared her. She only hoped that Prophetmon was not doing anything foolish right now that might lead to his death.

Miyako glanced to Taichi, and then asked, "What were the other Fallen Children's Heart-Names?" Smart girl, not pushing the Digimon to find about the real names. Sanimon was glad.

She tried to forget about the anxiety and answered, "Tears were one of them, and the others' names were Crystal, Smoke, Chime, and Mask. Mask was Daematermon's Digidestined," she added after a thought, then grimaced apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell any more. You might want to ask an older Digimon who might know of them. Azulongmon could know."

Taichi seemed to ponder over something as Miyako continued, "Or Vesamon?"

"He might."

Miyako tilted her head, and then turned to Taichi. "What about Gennai, Tai? Maybe he knows, too."

Sanimon opened her mouth to respond, then shut it. She would answer, but Miyako didn't ask. Taichi noticed it, though, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sanimon said nothing, easily meeting his gaze, until Taichi grunted, smiled, and turned to Miyako, changing the subject. Sanimon felt like that the conversation toward her was finished, they having the information they needed. Still, she could see in Taichi's face that he knew that she was holding something back. He knew better than to compel her to reveal more knowledge. She had reasons. She always had reasons, but sometimes, it was so bothersome that she couldn't tell what she wanted to. She wanted to help! She was a Guardian and she was commanded to help the Digidestined whenever they needed her. Curse Tears . . . Made her not to tell. But then Tears had his own reasons and she will not go to betray her oath.

Sanimon departed the table and went outside in the small square in the center of the Villa. She took a seat on one of the benches and took a look at the plants around the fountains. Black leaves. It happened before, Tears had told her, although she already knew. It wasn't surprising to her because the world was changing. It was preparing itself for the Final Battle. It knew. She wondered if the Final Battle was won to the kids, will the world be completely changed or remain the same? If not, what will happen to her? What will happen to her friends, her home, and everything? It will be terrifying. Even the idea of the Final Battle being lost was dreadful.

By the Digi, she thought, Prophetmon is right. If he can't see the future after the Final Battle, then there might be no future . . .

Then what are we fighting for?

***

Dasalmon rested in her favorite spot up on a branch that reached over the Friends of the Stones, allowing her to see all the stones and pillars in her tiny vision. The Friends of the Stones was peacefully resting among the bushes and tall grasses; she had moved them from the snow-covered glade in the far north down to the warmer climate. The tops of the four pillars were easily seen from above the grasses, but Dasalmon wasn't worried. They won't be seen for miles, for scattered trees and rocks hid them. The pillars would just look like any other tall rocks.

Dasalmon was pleased; not one Digimon knew about the Friends of the Stones and she preferred to keep that a secret. The stones were supposed to keep the weak balance of Nature that resided in the more powerful Data, and if anybody would attempt to destroy them, both the destroyers and the balance would be annihilated as well. The area around the Friends of the Stones was sheltered, preventing anybody to bring violence in. So far, the stones were safe and Dasalmon was glad.

Dasalmon was playfully braiding strands of her white-blonde waist-long hair when she noticed something different in the stones. Looking down, a faint orange light met her masked eyes. One of the pillars, marked with the symbol of Courage and named the Fire Pillar, was pulsating with the orange light, like slow heartbeats of a sleeper.

" . . . Master?" Dasalmon mentioned, quickly looking up and around to see if the Master had came, but it wasn't right. Like the other Guardians, Dasalmon was given a gift to know who was coming long before they arrive. She just knew, and she knew that no one was coming directly for the Friends of the Stones or for her.

Puzzled, Dasalmon spread wide her white butterfly wings and fluttered down to the pillar. She placed a tiny hand on the pulsating stone and knew that it was something else. But what? She didn't recognize it. She wondered what was going on here, needed to know.

As if answering her thoughts, a brief shadow soared above her, darkening the orange light for an instant. She quickly looked up and saw a human-shaped dark figure flying in the sky, heading northwest. She had a sudden urge to follow it, and she did so, calling on the Friends of the Stones to follow it. The Friends of the Stones never stayed in one place too long, moving around to stay hidden. Dasalmon remained in the shelter, the stones swiftly passing the trees into a wide meadow, heading for the distant jungle.                                 

Now that the trees were gone, the visibility was clear, and Dasalmon noticed that the figure was a human, looking like a male one, his skin black and greasy, wearing red and black clothing. 'A flying human?' Dasalmon thought, then shook her head. 'No, he must be Vampdevimon . . .' She just knew that. She remembered the two DNA Digimon, Arukenimon and Mummymon that she had sometimes seen. It was very odd and eerie that such a Digimon could exist with Human DNA as its blood. She frowned as she watched the flying human-Digimon. 'If it is him, then what is he doing?'

Vampdevimon flew swiftly, like a shooting red-and-black bullet, but the Friends of the Stones had no problems to lose him; its speed allowing them to move from the spot to a far area in a blink. From the meadow, into the jungle, they followed him, carefully to avoid any Jungle Village, river, or obstacle in the way. Dasalmon mentally stretched the shelter's top reaching up to the tops of the trees, and there, Dasalmon was able to see where the Vampire was going. In the distance, she saw a single mountain peak stabbing upward from under the jungle, standing proudly, its top open and hissing grey smoke. She knew what it was.

'Blaze Mountain . . .' Dasalmon recalled, and then gasped as the Fire Pillar pulsated brighter and faster, as if it was full of fear. She knew why. 'The Master's Shield!' Why was the Shield fearful? She then noticed that Vampdevimon has slowed down, floating near the top. In his hand, a swirling ball of black fire spun, flames flaring outward, lined with red light. Vampdevimon stared down to Blaze Mountain, seeming to find something that he was looking for, and grinned darkly. In swift motions, he powerfully hurled the fire ball right into the top.

"No!" Dasalmon yelled, finally comprehending of Vampdevimon's intent.

The volcano seemed to belch as it silently received the fire ball, but soon, she heard a horrible sound, like groaning of the ground around it. Bit by bit, bright orange goo that had to be lava, spitted from the open mouth. The mountain seemed to swell with force, the groaning and trembling getting louder until they were like thunders. Then Blaze Mountain exploded. First, a sound wave thundered across the jungle, flattening the nearby trees and deafening Dasalmon. Then lava hurled out from the top and surged down the sides like rivers of fire, simply swallowing the trees or set them on fire. Black-grey ashes fumed, filling the sky, darkening the sun. Red-hot rocks were flung like by slingshots, plummeting down like meteorites.

The shelter around the Friends of the stones was strong enough to protect from any disaster, and so Dasalmon watched in horror as lava silently flowed past the Friends of the Stones, the shelter forming an island in the middle of the fire river. Dasalmon felt the unbearable heat from the lava, sizzling and scorching. Rocks bounced off the shelter and ashes easily veiled the surface, darkening her vision. Then Dasalmon shuddered with gasps and tears as the sky was again filled with colorful dust balls, digital pixels that were the remains of the unfortunate Digimon trapped in the path of destruction.

She didn't know how long it lasted, only feeling like too long, hearing the groaning, and seeing the horrible fire, feeling the scorching heat. Finally, the thunders lessened, quieted, the lavas slowing down, cooling into ugly dark grey tar, the ashes finally misting down from the sky. Dasalmon heard faint chuckling from Vampdevimon and he was gone, flying back south. Dasalmon and the Friends of the Stones didn't move, she staring around in shock.

The fire mountain was nothing but a pile of steaming rocks, its height less than half of the former Blaze Mountain, smoke fuming through cracks. Around it, the trees were still there, but bare and charred, laying outward on the ground where the lava had pushed them down, like burned corpses. No living thing survived here. Nothing lived here. The black landscape spread for miles, the thin yellow line at the horizon stating that the jungle was still standing, but in flames. Dasalmon slowly shook her head in disbelief, not wanting to believe it, not wanting to accept the destruction.

Looking down to the Fire Pillar, she noticed that it was broken, dead. The other stones were the same grey color, but they looked alive, standing strongly. The Fire Pillar had its color faded into a dead grey, almost ready to crumble at the spot. The orange light was gone.

'How could it be possible that he knows where the Fire Shield is . . .' Dasalmon thought to her as she sadly touched the pillar, noticing the dust coming on her fingers from the pillar. Why? Why did Vampdevimon do that? How could he know? Blinking away tears, Dasalmon then looked at the other stones, not yet pulsating, but it was possible that Vampdevimon was searching for the other Shields . . .

'I must warn them. Before he destroys them all.' Dasalmon nodded to herself and commanded the Friends of the Stones to leave the destroyed area to find the Digidestined. Slowly, but steadily, the stones and the Fairy Digimon were on their way.

***

Taichi leaned back in his porch chair, watching with some delight as his ward and the Teacher combated. It wasn't necessary, but Daisuke, knowing that he and Iori were the only Armor Children with swords, asked him if he would like to test each other with swordplay. Iori, at first, thought it wasn't that honorable, but then his Kendo teachings taught him that it was honorable to test his abilities, bettering the skills. Iori and Daisuke planned not to reveal their practices, thought that some of the kids might disapprove fighting, but the others found it fun and enjoying watching them in combat, curious to see which one was better, the entertainment helping keep the troubles off their minds.

Today, only Taichi and Agumon got the chance to watch the combat alone. Iori and Daisuke delighted in combating a lot, laughing and teasing as their blades met. Daisuke had the advantages of size and strength to better Iori, but the years of training and speed helped Iori reflect off the advantages. Daisuke was using one blade this time, the fiery blade bright against the black katana, as the boys circled each other on the lawn behind the Villa, performing with sharp and awesome moves.

Agumon sat on the steps, looking slightly puzzled, but pleased, as he watched the swordplay. Turning around, he looked at Taichi, questioning, "Do you humans really fight with swords?"

Taichi smiled. "Not anymore, but we did in the past." He watched the slashing swords and recalled of a time when he had his own sword, battling with a Dark Digimon, along with Yamato, who had his night sword as well . . . When he took a good look at Daisuke's swords one time, he thought that they looked much alike to his and Yamato's swords, the colors in the blades, except the shaped hilts and no symbols of Courage and Friendship etched on the blades. Still, if they were his and Yamato's swords, Taichi would be glad that they were in the right hands of his ward.

He watched the flash reflecting off the orange blade, the black katana reflecting none, the flash seeming bright and like fire -

A fierce line, burning with the orange light, burst across his mind's eye. Like a slash cut deeply in his heart, bleeding and agonizing.

Taichi suddenly recoiled against the surges of pain pulsating in his chest. His mind blackened, filling with nothing but agony. The pain . . . the fire in his chest. With his heartbeats, the pain kept on thumping, pulling him into blackness. Against his shrinking vision, the orange light flared as his fiery aura suddenly burst from his skin, brighter than before and almost angry. He barely heard Agumon gasping with similar pain as he collapsed onto the floor.

Then he heard his name being called as hands came on him, cool and painful, withdrawing from the heat from the aura. Agumon's face came in his vision, his emerald human eyes wide with fear and agony. "Tai!" Can you . . ."

Taichi heard nothing, but the pulsating pain in his ears, in his chest. The fire . . . it was horrible . . .

"Ta . . . Davi . . . help . . ."

He was pulled into the agonized blackness that finally removed the pain and left him at peace.

***

Kimika couldn't sleep. She was a light sleeper, so it wasn't unusual for her to wake at the middle of the night, couldn't sleep perhaps because of noises. It wasn't true this time. She couldn't sleep because there was the eerie feeling again. The eerie feeling that came from the darkness. It was like a warning she got from the odd holes on her left wrist. A powerful warning, for it warned her of the darkness coming or made her sick if she was close enough to feel the awful foul heartbeat of the living blackness. She sat up, careful not to wake Hikari, who was nestled next to her. The large room was the girls' bedroom, and so all the girls and womons, except Cleo and Ruigumon, slept on the floor, safe in warm blankets and pillows. She listened to the quiet breathing and her mind drifted to the afternoon when her best friend collapsed into unconsciousness.

It was a scary moment. She was in the kitchen, talking with Iyumon and Gatomon when they heard Iori's frantic yelling. Iori never screamed like that, and Kimika's heart leaped, wondering what the matter was. Swiftly, she ran out to the porch and was horrified to find Taichi laying there, his aura just fading, with Agumon weeping and Daisuke trying to wake him. Iori then told her that Taichi all of a sudden fell down, his aura blazing with heat. Kimika checked and noticed that Taichi's face was pale and full of agony. Somehow, it reminded her of one time when Taichi nearly died form the burns caused by Phyrimon. Kimika ordered Iori to find Jyou and helped Daisuke to carry Taichi to the couch inside the living room. His body was feverish, but Taichi didn't wake at all, just laying there, lifeless.                                                              

Jyou tried to wake him, but to no success. Agumon was worried to death, didn't understand why he was feeling agony, and didn't know where the pain came from. Jyou, Iyumon, and Kimika helped cooling down Taichi's fever, the older kids and Digimon helping out, as the younger kids and Digimon watched on in anxiety. Frankie was very helpful, using his ice power to keep the fever down. Taichi soon woke, weary and pale. He seemed to be puzzled, but then said that something inside him was broken, receiving pain from it somewhere. He remained awake long enough to go into the boys' bedroom before he slept in peace, the pain finally gone.

It was the fifth day when it happened, the fifth day since the arrival to the Destiny Island.

Kimika slipped from the bed, stepped over the girls as she arrived to the door. She was thinking about visiting Taichi to make sure he was doing fine, but then he had Frankie, Jyou, Yamato, and Koushiro (whenever he left Cleo's side) to watch over him. She then wondered if she could see Cleo. She didn't know what else to do, couldn't sleep because of the eerie feeling. Something was happening. As she paused at the door, she felt something wet on her left wrist. She had her gloves off during the slumber, and she, not yet looking, touched her wrist. Coolness and stickiness met her fingers, and her heart thumped in fright. She suddenly hoped that her wrist wasn't bleeding.

She carefully glanced down anxiously. Even in the darkness, the blood seeping from the tiny holes had an inner light, colors silver-white, like molten silver.

She bit on the cry of despair coming on her lips and tried to ignore the seeping, as she hurried out in the hallway. The door was in the far end that led to the outside. She received a faint air of coldness and wondered what was happening outside. There were no windows in the hallway and she didn't get to look through the bedroom window. She knew what to do. She needed to acknowledge Jyou and Koushiro about her wounds. Calling on a sliver of her power, she created a tiny ball of faint yellow light. The ball floated beside her, giving out just enough light to see a few feet ahead. She didn't need light to see her path in the darkness, but the light ball somewhat gave her comfort.

She didn't even move as she then heard a startled gasp from far ahead and peered in the darkness. Koushiro stepped in the small lightened area, looking mildly surprised and concerned. He looked like he was recently awake and she noticed that there was white flakes on his head and shoulders. Snowflakes . . . ?

He gave her a light smile and said, "You surprised me, Moon. I thought you can see in the dark, unlike me."

She can, but she chose not to. The wounds worried her. She spoke faintly, "Spark . . . did your wounds bleed?"

Koushiro's face became haunted and he nodded. He had stringed sleeves tied to his forearms and he untied the strings of the left sleeves, pulled it up to his upper arms. On his wrist, she could see the vivid violet blood in the dim light.

She grimaced and asked, "What about Dew?"

He retied the strings; he disliked the sight of his blood, as well, and responded, "He asked me to get you." He glanced to the light with disapproval. "Extinguish the light, please. We can't have them seeing us."

Kimika timidly put out the light ball, leaving them in the darkness. "Sorry."

He couldn't see well in the darkness, his eyes not adjusted yet, but he stood close enough and knew where she stood. He reached to touch on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, too." She shook her head, forgetting that Koushiro can't see in the dark and then held on his arm. She felt that she needed a human touch, something solid to hold on in the empty darkness. She held on his arm tightly and felt his other hand also holding on her arm. He yearned for a human touch, too. " . . . I'm frightened, Spark."

"You're not alone," he whispered.

Together, they went outside. Kimika now knew where the coldness came from. It was snowing!  The sky was thick with dark clouds, the silver moon barely seen. The snow was falling heavily, but not like a blizzard, the snowflakes silently drifting to form a white blanket over the lawn. She wondered if it was Frankie's doing, and then shook her head. Frankie may like to play pranks, but not like this. It was something else . . .  It happened before, when the older Digidestined were trapped. First, the climate was warm and nice, and then now it was snowing all of a sudden. Too bad we didn't bring our cloaks Vesamon made, she faintly smiled.

Koushiro led her down the path, marked by his footprints to the Villa. It was dark, but she saw the kitchen windows were faintly lightened. Jyou probably was there. They went there and slowly walked toward Jyou as he muttered. Kimika's heart clenched as she saw what Jyou was doing. He was standing by the sink, the water running on his left wrist. She could see a trickle of pitch-black blood seeping from the wrist, cleansed off, and Jyou shook his head in despair.

"It won't stop bleeding . . ." The shadows cast by the light leaped on his face, making him look grim and cold. He sighed and looked up to them as if it was the first time he saw them. He then pointed toward a pile of white linen strips beside the sink. "Come here; wrap these around your wrists. We can't let them know about this."                                       

Koushiro was already washing and drying his wrist as Kimika watched Jyou finishing wrapping the strips around his wrist. It almost scared her that the calm, sometimes hypochondriac Jyou was suddenly grim and bitter in his troubles. He almost looked morose, with the blue-streaked black hair, dusky eyes, and the fair skin underneath his dark clothes, along with the bitter scowl on his face. She waited until Koushiro finished washing his wrist to wash her wrist. She watched Jyou helping tying the strips around Koushiro's wrist, leaning against the counter beside her.

"What do you feel?" she asked over her shoulder, trying to forget the darkness that came over Jyou.

Jyou glanced up to her and there was weariness, pushing the scowl away. He sighed and spoke clearly, "This time, it's different. I feel that the battle . . . is not ours to fight." He finished tying and shook his head. "I feel like this whole thing isn't our fight."

Kimika silently nodded, then focused on her wrist, absently observing as the silver blood tarnished and watered down from the running water. For some reason, she had the oddest feeling that the Final Battle Sanimon spoke of wasn't belonging to either the Old Kids or the New Kids. Someone else was supposed to fight it. She didn't understand why, but whenever she thought about the Final Battle, something inside her told her that it was not her fight, not the Digidestined' fight nor the Digimon's.

"Whose do you suppose the battle belongs to?" Koushiro questioned, taking a seat upon the opposite counter of the island in the center.

"The Fallen Children."                                        

Kimika lightly frowned with confusion. 'But the Fallen Children are not here anymore . . .'  "Why do you think that?" She said, drying her wrist and wrapping it.

"I suspect that since the Fallen Children failed to defeat Daematermon, they might come back and try to stop her again." He then chuckled dryly, crossed his arms. "They are waiting too long."

Koushiro noticed the tone and tried to reassure, "Perhaps, it is fate. They had to wait until it's their time. I'm sure this time, they will come."

Jyou stared at him from lowered lids, then nodded, "Yeah . . . and we are the ones to keep Daematermon busy, hmm?"

Kimika worriedly looked back to him. The tone had grown into bitterness and almost snarling, but Jyou's face was now impassive as he avoided her gaze. Koushiro frowned. "You're being cynical, Dew."

"Well, I can't help it," Jyou snapped, suddenly looking anxious. "The whole thing is messed up. We are so lost. We have absolutely no idea what to do. Cleo is in a coma, our Digimon are helpless. Prophetmon is gone, and now this: Tai's collapse . . . Hell, yes, I'm cynical." At that, his dusky eyes closed, and his hands went to rub on his cheeks.

Kimika was silent, noticing that the calm aura that he often carried was gone. She really liked the composure in the aura, showing the faith and strength Jyou held within. Now that it was gone, Kimika felt heavy with emotions and almost frail. She gently rested a hand on his arm and voiced softly, "I can't feel your calm aura anymore . . ."

Jyou didn't look at her, but took another sigh, pulling the friends into concerned silence. Koushiro broke the silence, placing his chin on his hands, his black eyes drifting from Jyou to Kimika and back. "I know it's very hard . . ." He sighed much like Jyou, but the tone in his voice held encouragement. "I know it may sound melodramatic, but we need to keep hope. We can't just give up, not right now."

Kimika slowly nodded, then recalled something. "No . . . not just hope. Faith."

Koushiro looked mildly surprised, but nodded. "Faith, right."

From the corners of her vision, Kimika could see Jyou looking up to both of them, seemingly musing, but then slightly nodded, though doubtful. She didn't like the dire mood hanging, wanting to lighten it up, even though she knew that soon, they will have to face Daematermon. Even if the battle wasn't theirs. She gave the boys a positive smile, saying, "I know that we can do it. We are going to join the Final Battle to help out whoever is fighting and see to the end that we will win."

Koushiro was bobbing his head in agreement. "We will. I know we will, too."

Jyou darted his dark gaze to them and voiced that seemed almost prophetic and eerie, "Then let's hope that we all have the will to fight."

***

"Seeing her still bothers you, doesn't it?"

Gabumon, standing beside his partner, could see the deep concern behind the steel eyes.  He knew Yamato well; the boy always held protection and care for his friends, although sometimes, his eyes didn't show it. Yamato was sitting in the large patio near the maze garden, the patio supposed to be a resting place before and after striding the massive maze. The garden was easily seen from the front, the snow-covered green-brown hedges standing tall, but not completely covering the maze. He could faintly see the thin paths weaving with each other, the green hedges lightened with the early sun's dawn.

Gabumon was puzzled that he found Yamato awake and already at the patio, staring at the garden as if he was trying to see something. He was bothered like that ever since Cleo fell in the coma. Gabumon knew that Yamato promised her to help her whenever she needed his help, remembering the words he spoke of the strange ghost girl that hanged close to Cleo and carried the same looks. Also, Yamato mentioned that after Cleo slept, the ghost girl kept on appearing beside her, eyes on him as if she wanted to say something, but was too frightened to do so.  Yamato was frustrated; he couldn't speak with her without revealing her to everybody, especially Koushiro and Ruigumon. But as Yamato grew worried over Cleo and the ghost girl, Gabumon guessed that soon, he will have to do something.

Yamato sighed when Gabumon voiced, "What can you do?"

Yamato shook his head slowly, uncertain. "I know that if she tells me what's happening, and then everything would be clear . . ."

"Then ask her." The wolf boy knew he meant Nikhai.

"I can't, not when Cleo asked me to wait."

Gabumon slightly frowned; it was silly to keep a promise when that promise was clearly hurting someone. It wasn't really hurting Cleo, but Cleo was helpless and had no way to communicate and Yamato knew that. Yamato would usually break a promise if he knows it will help. Gabumon was surprised that the promise was strong enough to make him hesitate. "She is helpless, vulnerable. She might need you to help her now." As the Guardian sighed, Gabumon continued, "Matt, you told me that the girl shows up more often than before, looking at you as if she has something to tell. If she does have something to say, then listen. Isn't that is what you promised Cleo for . . . ? She might know what's the matter with Cleo, too."

Yamato glanced down to his Digimon and nodded. "I'm worried, yes . . . I promised Cleo that I will help when she needs me. Clearly, she does, now . . ."

Gabumon sprung from his seat beside him and curled his hand around one of the mantle's sleeves. "Then why are you waiting?"

Yamato merely looked back, didn't move from his seat yet. "What if I accidentally enter her mind and get trapped there?"

Gabumon let go of his hold and gazed with perplexity. "You did that to Kim before." Yamato did that, using his power to 'enter' the dreamland to find Kimika, who was sick and couldn't wake up. It was a new part of the power Yamato recently found out, but rarely used it.

"That's different. I know how her mind works." Yamato's eyes darkened. "I have no idea how Cleo thinks. She is telepathic and can block me. Nikhai is inside her mind and I couldn't enter when Cleo's mind is 'occupied'. And with her Mind Power, her mind would be in chaos . . ."

Humans! Just worrying too much . . . Gabumon crossed his arms, leaned forward and growled, "You worry too much!"

Yamato looked lightly surprised, then faintly smiled. "I worry like Joe?" Gabumon chuckled, but nodded rapidly that drew a brief laugh of bashfulness from the blonde. Yamato took a glance at the garden, and then abruptly stood up, already rushing down the stairs.

"What are you doing?" Gabumon said, hurrying after him, knowing the answer.

Yamato grinned over his shoulder. "I'm going to help Cleo."

Yamato knew that he had to do this already; he had been thinking about this for six days already, but he was uncertain if he should go ahead and help Cleo. Cleo may be in a coma, but maybe it was supposed to be. Maybe Cleo just needed to rest for some reason. But then . . . that ghost girl kept bothering him every time. She appeared to say something, but was either too scared or mute to respond. Yamato promised Cleo that he will let her work on this on her own and not to let anybody else know about the ghost. Two problems still stared in his eyes. He had no idea if Cleo was working on this right now and he couldn't risk talking with the ghost without having anybody know about her. He was frustrated for a time, but he realized that he just needed a shove to bend his promise, thanks to his partner.

Yamato's Power was barely used, the power linked with spirits, ghosts, the spiritual, clairvoyance, the mystic. He didn't really understand how was it possible to use the very opposite power of the digital abilities in the Digiworld, but then the Digiworld might have a different way to see the spiritual He rarely used the power as offense, but if he had to, he could simply use ghosts to cast fear or drain energy. Also, he could summon on pure energies 'left behind' by the ghosts to defend him. Also, his power gave him several abilities that were continuous; he didn't have to use his power to use the abilities. He can smell scents left by his friends, much like a wolf picking up scents. He received the ability of clairvoyance, which means seeing ghosts around and sometimes perceiving things that were not there, much like a peek in people's souls, seeing objects or people that were deeply linked, deeply cherished. He can also use his power to 'walk' the dreamland, time not existing, and enter other dreams. He never used it again after one time, respecting his friends' privacy.

So he was surprised to find that he was eager to use his power again. With Gabumon trailing along, Yamato hurried to the cottage, knowing what to do. He just nodded back at Black Wargreymon's curious look and entered. He was glad to see only Willis there. He didn't really want to face Koushiro or Ruigumon and have to explain the situation, knowing how worried they were. Willis was at Cleo's right side, quietly talking with her, maybe a story or something. His Digimon weren't there at all, maybe with the other Digimon. Willis looked up, not startled, but then frowned, saying, "Is something wrong?"

Yamato forgot that Willis can be perceptive and he held up a calming hand as he knelt by the other side. "It's alright, Willis."

The cobalt eyes, almost as grey as his, studied him and he quietly spoke, "Are you going to do something to her?" He silently nodded toward the sleeping Cleo.

Yamato looked at him sharply, muttering, "Can you read my mind?"

The Judge quietly shook his head, and then smiled. "I don't need to read your mind when it's obvious on your face."

Yamato reddened slightly, had let his impassive visage drop down to show his concern. He wasn't upset with himself for that. He was really concerned about Cleo. His grey-blue eyes quietly glanced at her face. She looked so peaceful, so innocent in her slumber. He wondered what she was dreaming. He didn't see the ghost girl this time, didn't see the wispy details of the girl beside the Watcher. It didn't mean that the ghost will not hear him. He took a deep inhale and peered up to Willis. "I need to talk with her." He didn't bother to mention that he needed to talk with Nikhai, not Cleo. Willis will find out soon.

Willis tilted his head. "How?"

"With his power, remember?" Gabumon whispered from his seat beside Willis, and Yamato was glad. Silence was a must when Yamato had to use his power. Gabumon placed a finger on his lips. "We need to be quiet." Willis didn't ask any more questions, wisely silent, watching curiously.

Cleo had her hands resting on her stomach, and Yamato gently took one of them in his hands. It was surprisingly cold and smaller than he thought. Touching was not necessary, but Yamato thought that Cleo might need a comforting and friendly touch, anyway. He still didn't see the ghost, but then spoke softly and clearly, hoping that she was hearing, "Nikhai? Can you hear me? I don't know if Cleo told you about me, but I was asked to help you. I will be waiting here until you are ready to tell me."

Moments passed, and still no ghost. Willis was perplexed as he glanced at Cleo's face, then whispered toward Gabumon, "Who's Nikhai?"

Gabumon shook his head, hushing him. Yamato gave him a silent glare and then was almost startled of the sudden wisps coming out from Cleo's body. Yamato didn't panic, recognized it as the transparent body of a ghost. The wisps came together and formed the tiny body of Nikhai. She was kneeling on the right end of the bed beside Cleo, near Yamato, leaning forward on her hands on the blanket, her face close. Nikhai was strangely not frightened, her cloudy eyes sharp and studying him thoroughly, her face stern as if she was searching for something worthy in him. Yamato sat still, letting her do whatever she wanted.

Nikhai reached out to touch Yamato's cheek; he had to resist from jerking back from the icy touch. He hated the feeling of the touch. Ghost touches were always cold and lifeless, feeling like either wisps of the arctic wind or wet and drowned flesh. The moment she touched him, her face softened into a visage of light concern, and she shifted her position until she was hugging her legs with her arms, pulled the knees up to her chin. She suddenly looked helpless and woeful. Her voice was soft. "Butterfly told me that you can help."

Yamato didn't bother to ask who was Butterfly. The name sounded obvious to fit the butterfly lover, Cleo. Yamato nodded. "Yes, I can help . . . Is Nikhai your real name?" He was curious because the name didn't sound like it came from Earth. It can't be her real name . . .

Nikhai shrugged. "I have many names. I like the name." Yamato kept quiet, puzzled at the answer, then listened as Nikhai added with a glance down to Cleo, "You want to know what's wrong with her."

He nodded with dawning eagerness. "Can you tell me?"

Nikhai hesitated, nervously looking across to Willis and Gabumon, who were silent, heavily puzzling, their curious eyes on Yamato. Yamato remembered Cleo saying that Nikhai was somewhat traumatized and was too scared to trust anybody. Yamato gave her a friendly grin, gesturing toward them, "It is okay. Wil - I mean Dream is a good friend of Butterfly. Gabumon is a friend, my partner."

She seemed relaxed at that, but looked disappointed as she again looked around the room. "Where is Spark? Butterfly wants him to be here with her."

Yamato kept silent, but nodded. He only hoped that if he has to enter Cleo's dream, Koushiro has to accept it.

Nikhai suddenly leaned forward, face almost lightening with childlike delight. "But I want you to come with me, Ghost. In my dream."

He was puzzled. "In your dream?"

"Butterfly is sad, but if you come with me, she will be happy."

Yamato was silent, uncertain. He was planning to enter Cleo's dream to make sure that she was alright, but still, he was worried. The dreamland, as he called it, had no meaning of time, not sensation of time passing. A minute in the dreamland would equal to a few days in the real world. It happened to him once, when he spent probably a minute in the dreamland, a day and a night passed before he woke. Of course, it was the first time . . . Perhaps, he had better control over his Power and the dreamwalking would be shorter in duration . . . He exhaled, considering the results. Nikhai seemed not to tell him of Cleo's condition, insisting him to enter her dream. If he went ahead and dreamwalk, his friends would get more worried over him, as well. He had to let his friends know about his plans . . . Especially Koushiro . . .

He met the gaze of the ghost girl and firmly voiced, "I can't stay long, understand?"

Nikhai mutely nodded and vanished into midair, accepting his words.

Again, he sighed and turned to Gabumon. "Gabumon, go get Izzy, please. I have something I need to explain to him."

Gabumon understood and he was gone.

Willis glanced up to where Gabumon left and looked back to Yamato, who was entwining his hands in thoughts, staring into nowhere. "Matt, I don't quite understand what's going on here."

Yamato eyed him carefully, pondering if he must tell him about his plans and decided on it. Willis was Cleo's ward and he had the right to know. He cleared his throat. "This might sound complicated, but Cleo has a little girl with her, a ghost named Nikhai. She was a Digidestined and I think she might have a role to play in this."

The alabaster-haired Judge seemed bewildered, but not doubtful. His cobalt eyes glanced around, appearing to trying seeing the ghost, which Yamato knew that he couldn't. " . . . A Fallen Child?" Willis whispered carefully. When Yamato nodded in silence, he slightly widened his eyes at Cleo, and then asked, "What will you do?"

"I will have to dreamwalk. Hopefully, I will find out more about Nikhai and find why Cleo won't wake."

" . . . Do you need me?"

Yamato managed to give him a grateful smile, though faint. "Cleo will be pleased if you stay for her." Willis simply smiled back, the dark sea-green soul-scent from him heavy with serene protection. He almost felt safe in it. Then, a familiar scent met his nose, colored dark violet and brilliantly electric that reminded him of static, and lined with faint orange, hinting anxiety. Koushiro.  He looked up in time to see the redhead and Gabumon entering. Koushiro was fearful, his black eyes glancing down to his girlfriend before staring back to Yamato.                                            

"Matt, what's going on here?"

Yamato didn't remember a time when Koushiro truly showed his fear, usually being unruffled and emotionless. He was surprised to see the real fright in the black eyes, the eyes that can hide emotions easier than his own eyes. The fright was meant for Cleo, and yet, there was a protective worry he had for Yamato. Yamato felt crestfallen; he didn't really want to worry Koushiro any further, but if he will find out what's matter with Cleo, maybe the fact will lessen the redhead's worry. Yamato stood up and held up a hand before Koushiro would say anything more.

"Come here, Izzy," he beckoned as Koushiro arrived to his side, gazing up to him, impatiently waiting. Yamato's voice was soft but demanding Koushiro's attention, "Listen carefully. Cleo is haven't tell you anything about this. There is a ghost girl who follows Cleo. Her name is Nikhai and she used to be a Digidestined. My guess is that she was one of the Fallen Children."

He could see all the numerous questions Koushiro wanted to ask and Yamato continued speaking to silence him, "I'm going to talk with Nikhai, but there is a problem." He took an uncertain inhale. "In order to talk with here, I have to dreamwalk Cleo's dream." The Warder already fell silent, knowing the risks of dreamwalking and he cast an anxious gaze. "Yes, I know. I will have no awareness of how fast time will pass in the dreamland. My body will be vulnerable, helpless here, but it's the only way to find out. Now . . . the reason you and Willis are here is to keep Cleo and me comfortable, protected. Make us feel secure. Make sure no one disturbs us . . ."

His concern lessened when Koushiro and Willis nodded in understanding. Gabumon also responded with a confident smile, already knowing of his plans.

Although, Koushiro was still anxious as he grasped firmly on Yamato's arm. He whispered, "Will . . . will it hurt her? And you?"

Yamato gave him a reassuringly smile. "I wouldn't do this if it will."

The black eyes peered affectionately down to Cleo, then back to Yamato with understanding concern. "Be careful."

"Of course, I will . . ." As Koushiro seated opposite from where Willis sat, Yamato moved to the door, glancing to Black Wargreymon, who was listening. "Black Wargreymon . . ."

Black Wargreymon simply nodded. "I will make sure no one is to enter until you finish."

It was a surprise that Black Wargreymon understood without having to know more of his plans. Yamato thanked him and closed the door. Again, the sight of Cleo crushed his heart, and the worry over dreamwalking increased. What if something wrong happens? Yamato would be in a coma like Cleo, and the rest would get worried to death. What if Cleo wasn't there to talk? What if, what if?

Gabumon touched his arm and that woke him back to the present. "I know you have to do it," the wolf voiced, "But are you ready?"

Yamato numbly shook his head, but he knew he had to do it. He promised Cleo, promised Nikhai . . . Sighing, Yamato took his position at Cleo's left, beside Koushiro, taking the cool hand in his hands. Before he would let his worry take over, he closed his eyes and used his mind's eye to see. In the blackness, he could see the dark blue swirls that were his Power, lined with white and grey, whirling and twisting. He commanded a small swirl to take form of a 'bridge', the blue lines reaching from his mind, through his arm to her hand, and contacted to her mind.

At first, he saw nothing but the blue liens of his Power, but all of a sudden, a burst of a pale purple light exploded in his mind's eye. He gasped, as if losing his breath from underwater, then the strange feeling of falling down in the darkness. Falling down, down, feeling like he was falling forever, and then . . .

I finish my fall by crashing onto something, rough and hard, scratching on my skin. It is only a stone-built path, and I fell on it. This place . . . It is so real but for some reason, I know that it's not real, just a dream. Dreamt by . . . who? Cleo? I don't know . . .

I'm somewhere in a place that looks vaguely familiar. Stone paths whirled through browned bushes and grasses, flowers withering and trees bare and stripped of bark. This is nothing of the dreamland I once remembered, but then not all the dreams are the same. There is a fence far in front, metal and barred, appearing to shelter the . . . gorgeous light there, the light that is all colors and swirling beautifully. I stare at it for a moment, and then remember what I'm supposed to do. I stand up and I get an eerie feeling from behind me. I look and I recoil from the living darkness. Darkness that . . . coils and surges as if it is alive. I saw that before, back at the Village where I and some of us first met Prophetmon and Cleo. The first time I saw the living darkness, it was nothing but a small slug, not even the length of my forearm, but this . . . It fills my sight, reaching to the ends of this place and beyond, blocking me from entering. Not that I want to enter it! It's so disgusting!

I quickly stand up and move away. I find that my clothing has changed from my mantle and pants back into my casual ones I wore in the real world, a black T-shirt and dark purple pants. I dust myself and walk down the stone path for a moment before I hear a voice calling out my name.

"Matt?" Cleo! I don't call out, but pick up speed as I trot further. Around a corner, Cleo appears, astonished to see me. "Oh, Matt!" Her voice holds so much relief that I silently let her run in my arms and let her embrace me fiercely. She must be scared, being alone here. I awkwardly hold her, feeling her body shaking with silent cries, then, remembering how time is precious in the dreamland, I firmly grasp my hands on her shoulders and force her to look up to me.

"What's happened to you?! We are so worried to death!"

Cleo sniffles, wiping tears away. "I know . . ." Suddenly, she jerks herself out from my hold and glares back. "I know that! I've tried to contact you, trying to tell you that I couldn't wake up! I heard everything you said around me and I've tried too many times!" Cleo's hands shake as they brush through her ivory hair. "Didn't Nikhai tell you?"

"None of this," I frown, wondering how come Nikhai hasn't told me. "She said she wanted me to come here -"

"No!" Cleo is shaking her head so violently that I couldn't see her face clearly. She sounds panicked. "You can't stay here! You will be trapped here!"

"Stop it, Cleo!" I have to hold her close to me, telling her sharply to calm down. Eventually, she does so and she almost slackens before I let her go. I have a strange urge to rest a hand on her head as much as I often did to my little brother. I begin to see her as a little sister. My friendship grows for her, feeling the same protection I once had for Takeru toward her. When Cleo finally calms down, even stops sniffling, I again ask, "What's going on here, Cleo-chan?"

She looks mildly surprised at the added title to her name, but then responds quietly, "Nikhai kept me asleep her power."

"Her power . . ." Ah, I should've known! It's so blasted obvious. The Nature Children have their Powers of Nature. The Armor Children have their Armor Powers. Even Michael's group, the Reality Children, have their own powers! Obviously, since Nikhai was a Digidestined and probably a Fallen Child, she might have a power of her own. What kind of power? I ain't planning to find out; my concern is only for the Watcher.

Cleo is nodding to my astonished face. "She won't tell me what kind of power she has, but . . . she won't let me wake."

I stare at her with disbelief. "What? Why?"

"She's afraid that Daematermon will find you."

I again frown, muttering, "If you can hear me while you're asleep, then you should've known that Daematermon won't find you here. Destiny Island, as Prophetmon said, is unreachable, nearly inaccessible by any travel if one doesn't know the way. It's not way that -"

"Stop." The pale jade green eyes have flared into emerald fire. They silence me into astonishment as Cleo grabs on my wrist and particularly pulling me down the path. She leads me up to a kind of raised floor that is wide and looks much like a tiny theater, the supports crumbling and eroded. Cleo swings her arm fully around the place. "What do you see?"

I glance at her, but the persistence in her eyes tells me to follow her words. I carefully look around, puzzled, and then . . . it comes to me. This place is familiar! The garden near the Villa! I haven't entered the garden myself, but from a patio near it, I could see the paths, seeing and remembering the paths. The trees and flowers . . . they were alive and growing well, but here . . . The fence, I never seen it, but it must be buried deep underneath the overgrown flora.

"You see?" Cleo is still glowering at me. "I've seen the same image in your mind, seen the similarity, and now I know why the garden on Destiny Island looks familiar. This place is from Nikhai's dream, the place where she and the other Fallen Children once fought Daematermon and lost."

This is . . . where the First Battle began? From Nikhai's dream? I want answers for my questions, but the words Cleo told unnerve me. I shake my head in doubt, "Then we are vulnerable, easy to be defeated once Daematermon finds out where we are . . . Why? Why did Prophetmon bring us here?"

"I don't know, but I know that Daematermon won't come to Destiny Island until the Final Battle comes." I turn to her with puzzlement and she continues, "Daematermon won't attack until I wake."

Suspicion comes in my mind. "Prophetmon told you."

"Nikhai told me."

I refuse to believe that. It's silly. A little girl has a kind of power that makes Cleo asleep? I don't think so. I can make her wake. My Power allows me to do so, the only power that can break through any block that any kind of power might set. Cleo will be pleased that she can wake up, thanks to me. I hold on her hand and try to persuade her to follow me. "Come on. I can wake you with my power." When Cleo stubbornly yanks out her hand, I frown back. "Come on!"

"I can't!" Cleo snaps. "I'm trapped, remember? Only Nikhai can wake me up."

"You're not trapped! It's only tricks playing on your mind."

Cleo's eyebrows rise. "Indeed?" Then she stomps down the floor and returns back to the swirling darkness, I following in annoyance. She can remind me sometimes of Sora and Mimi in unison, first weeping and hesitating to do something, and then the next moment, she gets in a fit and stamps her foot in disapproval when no one understands. But I've learned a lot from watching the girls' reactions. Their fits usually mean something. There must be something that I didn't get when Cleo tries to explain it. Just sometimes, girls just *like* to obscure information and expect us men to understand.

Cleo walks up to the darkness; I don't miss the slight cringe she has in her body toward the darkness. There, she clenches a fist and pounds it on the darkness. I expect the fist to plunge through, but to my surprise, it bounces off, like the darkness is a solid wall. Cleo turns to me. "See?"

"But how?" I subconsciously let my hand to touch the darkness. It goes through, disappearing into the blackness, the iciness biting on my hand. I jerk it out and try to warm it. Cleo seems to know it, although there is a tinge of relief on her face.

"See, the only way for me to get out is through this darkness. The 'door' is in there, and it's closed. Nikhai did it." She glances to my hand. "You're free to go through. You're not trapped."

I stare at the darkness, and then back to Cleo. "You can't wake up? You only can wake if Nikhai lets you?" Cleo silently nods and I finally understand. "So you are safe after all. Daematermon won't come for you if you're asleep." I run my hands through my hair, bewildered at the reason Nikhai has to keep Cleo asleep, but at least, Cleo isn't hurt as we thought so. It's a great relief. But still, there is one thing I need to know. "Cleo, Now that I know why you are asleep, I need to know who Nikhai really is. I suspect that she was a Fallen Child."

"She was."

"Where is she?"

Cleo looks sheepish. "She won't talk to you. Too scared."

Like an annoyed wolf, I growl. "Not a very trusting one, huh?" I have nothing against getting scared, but it seems ridiculous that she recently talked to me, then fled in fright that I would bite her. Geez.

"I can tell you who she is," Cleo speaks. "I persuaded her and she finally remembered who she was. She lost most of her moments, all but the latest ones during the First Battle.

I arch my eyebrows. "That explains why she's so scared of her monster. Because Daematermon might look that scary to her." That little black-haired girl Digimon doesn't look scary, just . . . innocent and sad. Except when she tried to get Cleo's crest. Now she was scary, scary from the other villains we have faced. Eerily scary.

Cleo nods in agreement, probably thinking the same thing. "She remembers her names and her Digimon's name. She was called 'Lucy' by her brother and friends, and her monster was 'Wissy', as she called her. It's Wisimon."

"Sanimon told us."                     

Cleo doesn't look surprised, and perhaps it was because she can still hear us talking while she's asleep and already know about Sanimon and Vesamon visiting us. "And . . . she remembers a boy in her group, a boy named Eugene Weiss, her brother."

"Eugene Weiss?" Why does, all of a sudden, that name sound too familiar?

"That's all she told me. This Eugene is still alive, somewhere . . ." She then rests her hands on my arm, looking up with pleading. "You must go now, before our friends get worried over you. But one thing you need to do after you leave. Find Gennai."

I shake my head. "We don't know where he is."

"You must. He's involved . . . He must know what to do. He will know who are Eugene and Lucy."

"And if he doesn't?"

Cleo's jade eyes narrow, sparkling. "Oh, he does know. It's up to him to admit it. Go! Hurry!"

The persuading, the sharp tone in her voice stops me. There is something about her that she hasn't told me. My feet are locked on the ground, Cleo uselessly trying to pulling on my arm. I stare back until Cleo weakens under my gaze and sighs. Then, I say, "Cleo. You know something."

She avoids my gaze. "Yes, I know something, but . . . I'm not sure it's reliable."

"Tell me."         

". . . The Crest of Heart."

I nod, waiting.

"It's broken."

"Broken?"

"It's alive, but broken. The other half is missing."

I remember that the symbol of the Crest of Heart is a half of a heart, one side rugged as if it was tore apart from the other side. Does it mean something? Breaking apart? Ripped off in despair or in anger? But the crest looks complete, not broken in half. Only the symbol looks torn . . . "Cleo, how would you know?"

Cleo shivers. "Daematermon . . . she spoke the words in my mind . . . when . . ."

I understand and I won't ask her to tell me more. She told me what she can. I glance down to her, who is still shivering, remembering, and against my will, I draw her back in my arms, letting her calm down. My hand reaches up to stroke her hair before I stop myself. I'm getting soft, I think to myself, but at least, Cleo relaxes. Be brave, I think to her, knowing that she can read my mind. Be brave for yourself and for us.

"We will find out more about the crest and find Gennai," I say after Cleo leaves my hug. I inch closer to the darkness, trying to ignore the swirls and coils. "I promise."

"You don't need to promise. You have to do it. Our lives are at the sake." She waits for a moment, then whispers, "And . . . tells everybody, especially Izzy, that I'm okay."             

I give her a warm smile before I enter the darkness. I'm not falling this time, but somewhat flying upward, seeing the blue lines that is my bridge back to my body. As I place a foot on it, I get a sensation that I was running, my body suddenly exhausted and worn-out. A weight is sitting on my chest, making it difficult to breathe, but I think it's just--

Yamato sleepily opened his eyes. All he saw was dimness, softly lightened by candlelight, he guessed. He was laying on his back, comfortable and relaxed. His head was rested on a pillow; he was covered with a warm blanket. His body was heavy with exhaustion, not just physically tired, but mentally tired. He was puzzled at how did he get to sleep, and then he remembered. He closed his eyes and sighed, relieved that he got back, glad that he found the reasons of Cleo's condition.

"Oh, you are finally back!" he heard Koushiro's voice, and his eyes again opened to meet the bright black eyes of Koushiro. It was the first time in days that he saw Koushiro smiling with a grin of relief. He was sitting nearby, and Yamato looked around to see that he was laying right beside the bed, on the floor, Koushiro watching over them. Soon, the face of Willis and Gabumon came in his vision, grinning with gladness.

Yamato then noticed that his hand was still holding on Cleo's hand and he gently let it go. Taking another sigh, he whispered, "How long have I been out?"

"Just overnight. You return sooner than I expect," Koushiro answered.

Yamato simply smiled and closed his eyes. After a few beats later, he voiced, "Izzy?"

"Yeah?"

"Cleo is okay. She is just sleeping."

Already, slumber was there to bring him to sleep, but he could hear Koushiro sighing with gratefulness. Also, the redhead's smaller hand rested lightly on his shoulder, the last thing he remembered before he fell in slumber. For some reason, the touch comforted him, letting him know that he had kept his promise after all. That relieved him, and even in his slumber, the Guardian smiled.

***

Yamato slept for almost a day before he finally woke up, his body still not used to having his power being used to the fullest. But, regardless, Gabumon was glad that Yamato went ahead and found out about Cleo's condition and Nikhai's persona. Yamato was a bit disappointed that he couldn't get more information from Cleo than what he had, but Koushiro presumed with brightening determination that the information was just enough. With the bit of information Yamato had, already the Digidestined and Digimon burst in action.

Yamato mentioned that Nikhai was definitely a Fallen Child, much to everybody's surprise. Everything there became clearer, if not completely understood. After what Yamato and Sanimon told about Nikhai, it was obvious that Nikhai was Mask, the Digidestined of Daematermon, who was Wisimon. It was a puzzlement to why Nikhai was still here as a ghost and was pretty close to Cleo, scared and reluctant, even to talk to Yamato. There must be a reason, and they didn't see it yet. When Yamato suggested finding Gennai, for he might have answers, not everybody believed it. Some mentioned that Gennai wasn't seen ever since the defeat of Myalomyotismon and probably will not show up to the Digidestined at all. The Digidestined seemed hesitant to try and find Gennai, for it will waste time.

The Gijinka Digimon were the only ones who strongly determined to find Gennai. Included with the information about the Fallen Children, Gennai might know about the odd memories the Gijinka had gotten. They had questions to ask, and they didn't care if it will take too much time. They have to go, they said, can't just sit around and fidget. To their old Partners' surprise, the Gijinka Digimon didn't ask the Nature Children for help, but asked the Armor Children and Digimon instead. The Gijinka Digimon were physically weak, and they presumed that the Armor group will be helpful to act as guards for them during their search for Gennai.

The Nature Children seemed restless, as well, over Taichi's odd collapse. They wanted to know why it happened to him, wanted to know why they 'sensed' a wrongness happening in the world. So far, they had no lead to the mystery, but like the Digidestined they were, they weren't giving up that quick. They had decided to remain at Destiny Island while the Gijinka and Armor Children went ahead on their search, to watch over Cleo or until something wrong had happened to the world again.

Midst of all the actions happening, Gabumon had the similar thoughts on his minds as well as the rest did.

What role does Gennai have?

***

He didn't recall seeing any kind of beauty he had seen in his past life. The darkness may look beautiful, but too plain. Flowers . . . he never had a fondness of flora, and still, he did admit that flowers are beautiful.

This . . . It had simple beauty that silenced him and warmed his heart.

Vampdevimon stood alone in a huge marsh, his nose wrinkling at the unpleasant odors and eerie sounds that dominated the bog. Marshes, bogs, and swamps were rarely beautiful. Maybe pretty to their residents, but never beautiful. The nasty smells that were acidic, bitter, and almost sickeningly sweet at the same. The bubbling sounds and the sucking noises somewhere under the mucky surfaces of the ponds. Vampdevimon was just glad that he wasn't one of the Marsh Digimon who liked to live near or within; he just can't imagine tolerating the odors.

And yet . . . he did find it, the beauty that wasn't supposed to be here. A lone rose rested in the middle of the marsh, resting on something solid, he was sure, its petals deep red, almost as red as blood with the outlines pale pink. It was gigantic, too, its petals opened wide and curled outward like a throne. It seemed big enough for him to rest comfortably in. What a beauty he found in an ugly place . . .

Vampdevimon sighed, rubbing his chin in thought. "I suppose that I don't need to destroy it," he spoke to himself, hearing the faint echoes of his voice in the marsh. He eyed the rose, the Earth Shield. "One Shield is enough. The world is already weakened . . ." A light frown appeared on his face, not disappointing or upset, but simply dejectedly. The Son of the Final Evil, the Vampire Digimon, was disheartened. "My actions to destroy the Shields have no effect on the Final Battle. Nothing I will do affect the path of Fate."

He felt funny. Before, when he was first resurrected, he was filled with a bold certainty, not disturbed by doubt of failing or fear of oblivion. He thought he was so certain that he will make his mother happy, know that he was able to defeat the Digidestined. Even so, he was told that he *will* be defeated, no matter what and he fearlessly accepted it, simply shrugged, knowing that everything in the end die.

But now . . . the certainty was lost. He could almost see in the future that he will lose his life. Why? Why should he? He felt like his business, his usefulness was finished, no longer needed. He still had the questions waiting to be answered and he could've gotten them if it wasn't for Black Wargreymon, who was mysteriously alive . . . In a way, Black Wargreymon and Vampdevimon were alike. They were resurrected and were given a purpose. The problem was . . . Black Wargreymon seemed to know his purpose. Vampdevimon didn't. He had lost it or had forgotten it. He didn't even know if he ever had one. So he should've decided to give up and accept his Fate. So why didn't he? There was a feeling in him, a yearning to find and understand his purpose, whatever it was. Why was he keeping urging to destroy the Shields if it wasn't his purpose?

Maybe . . . maybe he just wanted to feel needed.

Vampdevimon scowled at himself, realized that these thoughts were of a weak Digimon and tried to erase them away, but the feeling of wanting remained. He eyed the rose, his heart both hardening and softening at the beauty. He was confused, but . . . Vampdevimon shook his head and sighed. He looked away, not bearing to see his hand glowing with a red-hinted black fire . . .

***

Wait . . .           

Mimi paused in tending a flower bush beside the Villa and tilted her head.

Somewhere . . . Why am I feeling sadness from someone? And even so, where did it come from?

Mimi stood up and closed her eyes, feeling a new essence she hadn't experienced before. Her face turned to face southward, her power spreading to contact the very life of the Digiworld, feeling the essence of the world. She saw nothing but many colors in swirls, mingling and mixing and yet remaining in its own color. She deepened her use of the power, forcing the essences to part and let the strange essence come to her.

A taint . . . stroked within a black and red essence . . . The essence took into a shape . . .

She knew. She knew who he -

A faint, wispy line, breathed with a jade green light, dashed across her mind's eyes. A thorn from a rose, smarting briefly and leaving a faint agony that was heavy.

Mimi softly gasped as her green aura appeared around her, swaying and almost quivering with fright. It came quickly, but the pain was still there, residing within her chest. She almost saw an image of rose in her mind's eye withering and fading into ugly grey-brown. She braced against a wall of the Villa for balance, gasping for breath. After a moment calming down, Mimi slid down to her seat, staring down to her hands, half-expecting to see her aura glowing once again.

She shook her head in puzzlement and almost sympathy. "Vampdevimon . . .?" Then she realized. "My Shield . . . It's gone."

To be continued!