Disclaimer: Digimon and all of its characters belong to Toei and Bandai Animation.
Author's Notes: I have so many re-writes of this episode it's getting on my nerves. This has got to be the sixth draft at least and I'm still not pleased with it. It's nothing so bad as Writer's Block, as I have the exact idea of what I want…but it's not coming out right! Hopefully this will be fine (grumbling)…I wish it would just turn out right for once.
Digimon Odyssey
Episode Two: Woe to the Vanquished
In the desert of what was once File Island, one could see from high above a silhouette struggling in the dry winds. The shadow was fighting valiantly well against the forces of nature, even with the heavy load on its back. Guessing from the long line of footprints behind him, he had been travelling for a long, long time. And it showed.
Taichi had been walking for a day and a half now. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he kept trying and trying to find shelter…but all there was, was the barren wasteland before him and the unconscious figures on his back. Judging from his face he was barely awake, one of his eyes swollen shut, the other half open. His endurance was far exceeding his breaking point, but he held on.
Sand squished underneath his feet as he forced one step after another, no longer sweating. If he had had his eyes open he might have been able to see the mountains that were a short distance away. The mountain itself was made of stiff sand, but a cavern was visible a short way up. Taichi just walked blindly forward, letting the mind's eye take him where it would. His legs felt like they were on auto pilot, heavy logs that were mechanically making their way forward, fighting off the urge to collapse successfully. Taichi's head hung low.
Unbeknownst to him, his digivice was beeping loudly at his side, signaling that another Digidestined was nearby. The dot on the map the gadget was blue, and it would be saying that Yamato was extremely close by…if Taichi had the mind to hear it.
He was far off in his own little world, driven delusional by the heat. And it was hot, nearing one hundred and twenty-two degrees Fahrenheit out, which was hot…even by those who live near the Equator on Earth. Perspiration had stopped dripping down his face long ago, a statement. He was severely dehydrated.
He walked on.
Yamato and Gabumon were indeed close by, checking the digivice every few moments to see if they were getting any closer to the target, Taichi…and whoever was with him. They had left the shade of the mountains once they had received a signal by Taichi.
Gabumon squinted in the sunlight, overshadowing his red eyes with his paw. He spotted a small movement a few kilometers to their northeast.
"Yamato!" the digimon cried, and pointed out the shadow that was slowly heading towards the mountains.
The young man squinted as well, and, looking again at the digivice in his hand, nodded. "That's him."
When Yamato had arrived in the Digiworld in his pajamas, the same occurrence had happened to him as had happened to Taichi. A green light had surrounded him and now he wore loose pants and shirt with the strange Digital Runes on the inside of them.
Gabumon slighted his head and they headed in a steady pace towards Taichi, ignoring the parched feeling in their mouths. Yamato's shirt stuck to his skin, and he felt like dirt was crawling up his body, but ignored it.
His digivice suddenly rumbled in his hand, and he looked down in immediate attention. There, right exactly on top of Taichi's signal, was a yellow dot, beating frantically. His eyes widened as he looked closer, squeezing the small equipment in urgency he rarely felt.
"Takeru…"
Gabumon turned around, seeing Yamato was not keeping step with him. "What is it?"
"Takeru is with Taichi, Gabumon! He's alive!"
Gabumon nodded in understanding, but cautioned him not to quicken their pace, as their stamina would not keep in this heat. The teen agreed reluctantly.
They fared better in the sun in that they didn't have four other objects to carry, unlike Taichi. In the pace they were going, they would probably cross paths with Taichi within the hour.
Yamato's eyes looked strained, his usually deep blue eyes faded over, giving him a far off look. He gripped his digivice, his knuckles turning white. He gritted his teeth.
"Don't blame yourself, Yamato," Gabumon said, still walking with his back to him. "It was out of your hands."
"I'm not…" Yamato said meekly. "Okay, maybe I am."
"Then don't," his friend advised wisely. "There's nothing more pitiful than a person who takes responsibility for everything, even the faults of others. It's a sign that you have a lack of self-confidence…though I'm very confident your esteem is high."
"I guess," Yamato said, smiling sarcastically, "Still the smartest of them all."
"I only learned from the best," Gabumon hinted, laughing lightly.
A wind snapped from the left, startling the human and only causing the digimon to shield his head. Squinting through his claws he kept his sights on Taichi so they did not some how change directions in the spraying dust. Glancing hurriedly back at Yamato, he grabbed his hand and began tugging them along, the only one able to see in this dust storm.
The refrained from talking, in a fear that dirt would get into their mouths and they would waste their strength gagging and choking to get the dust out of their systems.
The sand picked up in speed, and then even Gabumon was beginning to get bewildered. They halted where they were, and only hoped that Taichi and the others had done the same.
'What's going on?!' Gabumon thought frantically as he was wrenched away from his partner and flown into the increasing winds. He began to scream in horror, being picked up higher and higher into the sky, until the winds stopped all together.
The digimon plummeted to the ground, hearing a playful laughter emit from the very sands itself. Gabumon struggled up, trembling. Then the sand below them shuddered and then they were all beginning to sink.
"Yamato!" Gabumon shrieked, seeing his unconscious friend nearby, sand just beginning to swallow his face. Words sounded from the sand...
My territory…my game, my rules. So glad you could join me today…it was getting lonely.
'How could I have been so foolish?! Of course such a large expanse had to be a trap, waiting!' the small wolf chided himself, 'And I fell for it like an amateur!'
The sand was now up to his stomach, and it was constricting. The very breath in his body seemed to heave out in one great gasp, and it left him in a state of shock so great that he just sagged forward.
That's right…
The sand slowly slithered its way over his head.
Just let go, and everything will be all right…
"Yamato…" Gabumon whispered pitifully, "Forgive me."
Let go…
And…
I'll take care of you. I'll be your friend always.
In the large desert formally known as File Island, the disturbances that had risen alarm in the Digimon Kaiser's secret Base ceased to be almost as suddenly as it had arose. Digimon of all sorts were bustling about the Base, all their eyes glowing a deep red and each owning a Dark Ring on some part of their body, encrypted with the Digital Runes. When the alarm had died down, the Kaiser had ordered everyone just to forget that it had ever happened. For what reasons (the Kaiser usually was a very precise and organized person, taking note of everything and never letting a single detail go to waste), none of them knew. All except one; and this digimon did not harbor the red eyes or the Black Ring.
He was a small insect, grass green in color with earthy red stripes in the middle of his two antennae, a black stripe encircling his tail. He did not possess the same mean glares as the others either, rather, a more pained expression…his eyes showing that he held a bitter battle from within.
He crawled through the bleak hallways, making himself as inconspicuous as he possible could. No matter how many turns he took, he never seemed to look lost, like he had traveled this route many, many times before. The farther he went, the fewer digimon there were, which for him was a good thing, as he was commonly used as a punching bag for those who were in the mood to let off some steam.
Finally he approached a large metallic door. On it were blaring blood red figures in a language that the small digimon couldn't read. He approached it and knocked silently on it three times in one spot, and two times in another. The door slid right open, and shut after the digimon had made its' way in.
The interior was not lit. But one with keen eyes could see that there was someone else in there besides the small insect. The smaller of the two immediately froze in the presence, taking care that he was moving with the exact precision that was expected of him.
"Hello, Wormmon," a snide voice pervaded the darkness. Small breaths could be heard. "And what do you want to pester me with today?"
"Master…was it Suna?"
"I don't believe I gave you any right to speak, Wormmon."
"I'm sorry, Master," Wormmon said with a small incline of his head. "But you said-"
"I know what I said, Wormmon."
"So, was it?"
"I don't think a digimon of your class really requires to know. But, if you insist; yes, it was Suna, yet again."
A press of a button. A screen blipped on in the room, and it showed a recording of a ferocious sand storm swallowing the something that none of them could see, but at the same time knew it was there.
"Suna. That bitch doesn't know when to stop," the Kaiser let out a hissing laugh. "What is she up to this time…?"
Wormmon quite rightly kept his silence, only examining as Ken went about watching the video over and over again, committing everything to memory. This went on for a long while, before the Kaiser was getting frustrated with his failure to find an answer, and took it out on Wormmon.
"What more do you want?!" his fist struck the arm of his chair, "Just shut up, you worthless piece of trash!"
'I didn't say anything…' Wormmon thought to himself, and was beginning to turn around and head out.
"Is that all you wanted to know?!" Ken snapped angrily.
"Yes, Master. I was only curious."
"It was none of your concern!"
"You're right in that fact…however, everything dealing with you is my business to know," and left before he could be punished for his giving lip.
The Kaiser eased back into the chair, glad to be rid of a nuisance. He hastily pressed the button to leave him in darkness once again, reclining into the pit that was his emotions.
"Suna…" he whispered, and covered his eyes.
Yamato awoke some time later on hard ground, but a soft pillow beneath his head. He rose up, realizing that he had no shirt on, and a basic cloth covered his legs. He was also alone.
The youth looked around the room, not caring too much that he had almost nothing on. He was usually alone around the house on the weekends, so he had eventually grown used to being bare without any limitations, however, he was extremely modest when others were around.
The room he was in was basically made up of a strange wood texture. It was smooth beneath the touch of his fingertips, marking that it was very old indeed. A door at the far end of the room.
It was quiet.
Now that he noticed it, it bugged him. He hated silence, even at home he would usually be playing some music on the guitar or on the radio to keep him company, and a temporary escape from his thoughts. It pervaded him, filled him, and his ears made it a buzz. An annoying buzz.
Yamato scratched the back of his head. Stretching and yawning, it just dawned on him how tired he really was. He wondered briefly how long he had been out of it. The last thing he remembered was being thrown away from Gabumon, and then hitting a rock…
Thinking of rock, he gingerly touched the back of his head and found the tender bump. Wincing at every touch, he traced the entire shape. Luckily it had been a flat rock.
A creak. Yamato snapped to alertness and glanced that way, also fixing the cloth that covered him.
It was an older woman, presumably in her thirties. She had long auburn hair and icy blue eyes. She wore a simple kimono, not dressed for fanciful reasons, but for practical. She approached Yamato (who wasn't embarrassed by his nakedness but tried to cover it anyway with the cloth). In her hands she held an outfit, along with his digivice.
The teen's eyes widened. She wasn't going to use her having the most important tool he had against him, would she? She didn't look menacing, but she didn't look exactly all pure and good. He folded his arms and his eyes met hers. His held suspicion…hers indifference.
She stopped two feet away from him, and gently set his accessories down. Never breaking eye contact, she stood straight yet again and drew in a mythical breath.
"Welcome, Son of Man. If you feel you need cleansing, there are baths just out in the hallway, first door to your left. If you need any help with anything, please…don't hesitate to ask me."
"Where are my friends?" Yamato asked, not missing a beat. "Are they hurt?"
"No, young man. One is not hurt. You can find the young man your age in the first door to your right, however, the digimon and the younger one were in critical condition and cannot be visited until my treatment with them is through."
Yamato cringed, "My brother…he is dying?"
"No need to be so drastic, Son of Man. You're lucky that I found you all when I did. If his condition had continued for a few more hours, the damage would have been far, far worse."
The teen nodded in understanding, "But…how do I know if I should trust you? Who are you?"
The woman smiled wistfully, "You shouldn't trust me, that much I can say. As for my name, most call me Suna."
"Suna…?" Yamato threw the question into the air, "But doesn't that mean…?"
"Sand," she replied, and turned to leave. "I hope you enjoy your stay here, Son of Man."
The door closed behind her on its' own.
Who am I?
The question hung reflexively around his body. Takeru floated in a demented world, one that had no end or beginning, it was simply there. Like oil it thickly touched him, poisoning him. He sunk deep, into a pit of blackness in which only those with the will to live can successfully escape and live to tell the tale.
His face held one of mixed pain and fear. In his slumber he clutched at the purple swirling mark on his heart. It seemed to give him pain to have it, like it was leeching something out of him that he could never recover.
Who…am I?
Memories of his life spread through his eyes: the divorce, the separation, Digiworld, the move, the loneliness, the abandonment. His figure quaked uneasily, the more he questioned himself the more lost he soon became.
Who…am…I?
To what end of the universe would he be pitted at? And what would he battle the raging emotions in him to come back to what the other knew…that the others…loved?
NO!
They didn't care! They never contacted him, even though they KNEW what kind of a hell the loneliness he suffered for their sake! They never cared! All they saw was a child, a crybaby!
No more!
He would show them! He would take revenge for torturing him. They…no longer his friends, but his enemies. He would wait…wait for the perfect moment to strike when it would hurt most physically and mentally. He…would…kill…them…
The questions, who and what he was, faded from his mind as he began to conjure up a plan.
It would be difficult to strike them all off at once…
Tokomon. Tokomon would help. He had done nothing to hurt him in any way. A true friend. He would receive a great reward for his faithfulness.
It was decided.
Takeru would kill the Digidestined. One and all.
Yamato soon accustomed himself to living in Suna's place. It had been a few days since they'd arrived, and Taichi was feeling himself but still insisted on resting more. They had not been able to visit the digimon though, a great disappointment on the blonde's part.
The food was served two times a day, and was rather skimpy meals at that. But it was more than any of them had had in days, so the two heartily dug in.
They had agreed to stay until everyone was at full health, and then they would pack up and leave. Not that there was anything to pack up…
Yamato didn't know why he wanted to leave this place so badly. Something about it made his hair stay on end. Feeling always watched and hunted. It made him take second glances at the dark shadows in corners.
One day while Yamato was visiting Taichi, Suna decided to check up on them. It came as a surprise, because she had not shown herself since her introduction.
The two of them had been eating when she came in. And something about her presence made them lose their appetite fast. Their attention was captured by her enticing allure of beauty and mystery.
"Good morning, you two. How are you becoming acquainted with your surroundings?"
"Fine," Yamato said nonchalantly, trying to ease the sense of danger he kept feeling around her.
Taichi only nodded, swallowing the rest of his food. His eye that had been swollen shut by the dirt had long been cleaned out and was now in the process of healing itself. He was still sunburned in many places, and he couldn't get up and walk around just yet, his leg muscles were far too strained.
Suna inclined her head knowingly, "I came to tell you that the digimon have recovered and you can visit them now. However, you," she looked at Yamato, "your younger brother has not awakened yet and is still injured. I can't permit you to see him just yet."
"But he's my brother! I want to be there for him, make up for the times I missed all these years!" Yamato yelled out suddenly, his outburst startling them all, "For the last six years he's been neglected by the only person that he thought he knew! Why can't I visit him?!"
Suna took this all patiently, and calmly, she did not seem angry in the least. "I wouldn't want to endanger you or your friend. Your brother has been put under a deep spell; even I, with all my magic, am having trouble healing him properly. If you say he has been neglected, then I would see why the barrier around his mind is all but impossible to penetrate. I apologize if I sound rude, but if you interfered now, he might sink more within himself, out of our reach."
"You're saying that he's…" Yamato trailed off, a far away look in his eyes.
Taichi watched this confrontation. It was all so familiar to him in such a way…if only he could grasp it…
The conversation, or rather, argument continued between the two of them. Taichi went into deep thought, cupping his chin. It was déjà vu…he had been in this conversation before…
And then it hit him in a cataclysmic flood.
"Crash-Zero."
Koromon yawned loudly, still physically exhausted, but mentally he was fresh as a daisy. He gave a toothy grin to the nearby Gatomon, who was presently giving herself a refreshing bath. His bright red eyes flashed to her, the silent message, 'I told you we'd make it.'
The feline scratched behind her ear and purred softly, nodding. She stretched, her tail going rigid as she suffered a yawn as well.
Sitting up straight, the two of them looked to the corner of the room where Tokomon sat glumly. He had definitely been hurt the most in their crazy journey from their former home in the now-burnt-up Northern Forest. His small onyx eyes were downcast with worry, and his two ears were sagged down at his sides, altogether giving him a wilted flower look.
"Are you okay, Tokomon?" Gatomon asked warily, edging closer tentatively.
The smaller slowly shook his head, not bothering to hold back the tears. "It hurts so much, Gatomon…"
"What hurts, Tokomon?" the feline digimon asked, gently rubbing against Tokomon.
"I…I don't know…the world seems so spinney…and the feelings Takeru is emitting are s-scaring me…I don't know what to do…or think…"
"Scaring you?"
Tokomon nodded, fearful, "Takeru…his thoughts are those of murderous ones…his intent is to kill…I can feel so much pain and loneliness just flowing from him like the tears he used to shed…"
The digimon and their partners, if they became close enough, shared a special link with each other that allowed them to know exactly what the other was feeling or thinking with no words said. Gatomon had had this gift with Hikari and they had shared many personal conversations in there past adventures six years ago. However, the digimon were much more sensitive to this connection than the humans were, so often times it was a one-sided thing.
"It's just…I've felt his hurt for so long…so long…I can almost be in his place sometimes… He loved his mother so…and she took advantage of it…neglected and abandoned him when he needed her most…and he still loves her…" Tokomon sobbed the whole time, leaning into Gatomon for the friendly comfort that neither had had for a long time. "His mind has changed from his childhood…a dark shadow overhangs him…something that he thinks he can trust to always be there for him…to never, ever hurt him in the way his mother did… What…do I…do?" Tokomon quivered, unsure.
"Why, you be his friend," Koromon interrupted. Moving over with what strength he had, he smiled reassuringly while he talked. "You be his friend. Be there for him. Do what you can to make neither him feel that he is not inadequate in this world nor his own. Make him feel needed, and wanted. I believe that you're the only one who'd be able to do this, from what I gather from your words." Koromon nodded.
Tokomon stared at the other In-Training in utter adoration, forgetting that his mouth was hanging open. "But…?"
"Koromon is right," Gatomon added, "Now is not the time for you to be doubting yourself, Tokomon. If Takeru needs help, then by golly you're the best chance anyone has in getting him back into his old self. I should know what it feels like to welcome yourself to the darkness…all you ever want is a friend, but you're so avoidant that it gets in the way. Just be his friend."
Tokomon thought it over for a moment, and then gave a feeble grin, shedding his last few tears, "Yes, yes…you are both right… I'll do that…"
And then the door opened; Taichi and Yamato came in.
There was a moment of resolute silence as Taichi and Koromon stared at each other in dumbfounded shock. Then a huge grin broke across Taichi's face and Koromon's, and they both ran to each other, Koromon bouncing straight into Taichi's welcoming arms.
The brunette-haired youth held his mouth ajar in unspoken joy at their reunion. Though his legs wobbled beneath him, he paid it no heed. A knot formed in his throat as he hugged his digimon closer to his torso, keeping a sob well constricted in his neck.
"Oh, Koromon…" Taichi whispered to his friend, "You have no idea how great it is to see you again after all these years…"
Koromon nuzzled him, "I know, Taichi… I know."
Everyone else in the room watched the two of them, and they couldn't help but feel a little jealous at their happiness. Yamato kept his gaze firmly out in the hallway, folding his arms and trying to keep his infamous tough-guy-don't-touch-me look. He knew his brother was somewhere in this building…but where…? And what of Gabumon?
He glanced over at the cuddling Gatomon and Tokomon, and decided that he would go and say hello to them. As he approached, the feline noticed first.
"Yamato," she acknowledged.
"Gatomon," he replied, and added, "Tokomon…it's great to see that you're both alive and…" he paused, "alive and doing fairly well."
The cat digimon gave what could be taken as a sarcastic smirk. Her long, thin tail wagged slightly, despite her pinched face. Tokomon smiled truthfully. "Hiya Yamato, nice to see you too."
The three stared at each other for a few minutes, and then the blond decided to break the ice, "Have any of you seen Gabumon?"
Gatomon nodded swiftly, "Yeah…he was here earlier, but he left to take a walk around the place. Said he had something on his mind and he needed his space…I'd imagine he'd be coming back soon."
Yamato let a sigh of relief burst inwardly inside him. At least his friend was somewhere nearby, and that was good enough for him. He nodded his thanks and went back to his place by the door, and looked in Taichi's direction. The two of them were having a heated conversation about what had happened since the last time they'd seen each other. Shaking his head to get some of the hair out of his face, Yamato sighed and began to worry for his brother again. Thinking of this brought memories back of what Taichi had said out of the blue during his argument...
"Crash-Zero," Taichi said, with enough clarity to silence whatever was going on.
Yamato stared blankly at him, "What are you talking about?"
However, he didn't answer, much to his chagrin. Yamato folded his arms and glared, "What are you talking about Taichi?!"
The other shook his head and covered his face with his hands. Suna remained silent after this statement, in deep thought. Only Taichi could see that she nodded in a sudden understanding and left the room.
Yamato was glad that she left, and he began to yell at his friend. "Taichi, what the hell do you mean by, 'Crash-Zero'?! If you know something about my brother I want you to tell me!"
Taichi only shook his head pitifully, "I can't Yamato...I can't. Not yet."
Yamato leaned backwards, suppressing his urge to leap violently on the other and start to beat the information out of him. Doing so would do no good, as he had learned...
Gathering his patience, Yamato struggled to keep his voice as straight as possible. "Okay...tell me what you can."
Taichi pulled his head out of his hands and Yamato nearly gasped at what he saw. His friend's eyes were stained with turmoil and pain from the past.
"Shit, Taichi..." Yamato commented.
The other teen let out a horrible laugh, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry...it's just. I can't tell you everything. You're my best friend, Yamato...but still...give me time. All I can say is that you have to be there for your brother through thick and thin. Show him you care..." and the unsaid words, 'show him that you love him.'
It all became clear for the blond and he slouched, "He's going through the same thing Hikari-chan did, isn't he?"
Taichi nodded, rubbing his temple.
"Then that means everything will be just fine," Yamato said reassuringly. "If she could make it that means Takeru will make it. I know my brother. He'll be fine."
Taichi shrugged, knowingly keeping his mouth shut. He picked up his chopsticks and began to pick at his food again. It was cheap noodles that were similar to earth's home-style ramen with vegetables. It slowly sloshed this way and that. He only wished it were that easy…
It was night now. Or at least they thought it was, judging by their internal clocks saying it was time to go to bed. Suna allowed them to bring the digimon to bed with them if they wished it so. In turn, Koromon went with Taichi and Gabumon with Yamato. Gatomon and Tokomon decided to stay in the room they were in, less they disturb the others.
The two could be found curled up next to each other in the bed in the corner of the room. Since Gatomon was the bigger of the two, and possessed a thicker coat than the other did, she provided the warmth, while Tokomon offered the comfort. Plus, the two didn't want to feel alone.
The smaller of the two was shuddering in his fitful slumber, as he was true to his word that through Takeru's link were travelling bloody images and evil intent. Of course he had been exposed to darkness before, but never had it emanated so brightly from his fellow companion, so truly…horrible.
It was the same feeling that he had felt for a short period of time from Yamato, but that had never been so purely dark…just a lost soul… What Tokomon was feeling from Takeru was just…hatred, just that, pure and simple.
Gatomon sensed her friend's discomfort in her slumber, and just uttered a "settle down," and wagged her tail a bit.
Tokomon froze then, snapping from his nightmares of killing his friends. His whole body just sat there, rigid as a stone as his pearl black eyes were wide open in fear. Biting the bottom of his furry lip, he snuggled closer to Gatomon, mumbling…"Gatomon…I'm so scared…"
He turned around and was shocked to see her emerald eyes staring at him tiredly, but patiently. It was an awkward moment. Breathing was shallow.
Gatomon had no need to say anything, but she did anyway, "It's okay. I'm here…I'm right here…"
It was a rare occasion indeed when digimon were really sentimental, and they hardly ever showed pride so it wasn't difficult for them to cry in front of others. They felt emotions, don't get confused, but they more often listen to their instinct, and use their emotions for when it is strongly needed.
Tokomon allowed himself to be held tenderly by his friend, trembling. He relayed the nightmare he had and she listened thoroughly, making no comment on how he had imaged himself killing her as well. The more he replayed the dilemma, the more real it was becoming in his eyes, and the small In-Training was beginning to see in the mind's eye a valiant MagnaAngemon…standing over the dead carcasses of his comrades…
A large tremor shook through him, and Gatomon only gave a small squeeze of reassurance. Tokomon tried to calm down, if only a little, but in the pit of his center he still felt an icy cold fear binding him. The bloodbath pried his eye right back open, and then he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep that night. Looking up into Gatomon's eyes, she knew what he was feeling
"A walk?" she suggested.
Tokomon nodded listlessly, his heart pounding a drum in his ears. The two got up, Gatomon stretching to get her nerves awake. Tokomon took timid steps, but they made their way out into the hallway and began exploring the complex.
It was deadly quiet, and it could be heard. Tokomon stayed as close as he could to Gatomon as he could without causing any discomfort.
They took many turns, mostly rights. They soon found themselves to be hearing the soft sound of running water and decided to follow it. This, for the most part, was rather difficult, but with Gatomon's keen hearing they were soon standing in front of an open door, where they could spot Suna occupying herself inside.
The small digimon hesitated at the threshold, staring inward.
It was what could have been mistaken for a Japanese shrine; with the burning incense, Buddha statues, ancient sayings on the wall (however, these sayings were in Digital Runes, not kanji), and an assorted collection of katanas hanging on the wall. Suna was on the far end of the crowded room, bending over in a low bow with her palms pressed against each other. Gatomon could faintly hear her mumbling something, but couldn't make it out.
Something inside the feline tingled, and, surprised at the feeling happening against her will, she looked back and saw her tail ring glowing: reacting to the chant Suna was stating. Gatomon's ears flattened against her head suspiciously and she lowered herself to the ground, trying to get her agitated tail under control. Her claws dug into the wood beneath her as the statues in the room glowed as well, beginning to rise from their places on the ground.
Tokomon edged closer to his friend, worried, when Gatomon snapped: "Don't get close…I can barely keep my control now…"
The In-Training nodded. Her tail was jerking in awkward ways now, snapping this way and that at an alarming speed. In the room the statues were now spinning in a chaotic frenzy around Suna, illuminating bright neon green.
The Digital Runes on the walls seemed to react as well, giving off a beat that sounded like a deep drum, throbbing.
Each thump sent a large quake through the feline's body, startling Tokomon each time.
And then Suna was thrown backwards by some force, and everything stopped abruptly, the statues falling to the ground. Gatomon sagged downwards, her claws reclining. Tokomon stepped over to her and nudged her ribs gently with his nose.
"Gatomon…?" Tokomon questioned.
"I'm okay…" she replied, forcing her to get up, "Don't worry about it…"
Suna was brushing herself off, her back still turned to the digimon. Tokomon and Gatomon walked in and started towards her.
"I must admit, I did not think you would be able to handle yourself so well…" Suna said, turning around to reveal a half cracked face, blood running down her cheek…but it wasn't blood…it was…sand?
The other half of her face was filled with light green scales, a bright yellow eye shining. She was giving them a special smile, one of merit. Tokomon stood entranced, his eyes wide.
Suna knelt down, her long hair falling in cascades about her. She reached out and gently ran a finger along Gatomon's spine. The cat digimon froze at first contact, but generally grew into it…but still didn't like it.
"You are a digimon of great capabilities, Gatomon-child…your ability to deflect my Control is proof of that…though…" her eyes trailed down the path of her tail and spotted the ring, "I'm sure that your ring had much to do with it."
Gatomon suddenly snapped to her feet and backed away from her, glaring, "You won't take it. I've had it forever."
"I wouldn't dare," Suna said, and her gaze moved to Tokomon.
"You are special too."
"H-huh?" Tokomon stuttered, his eyes darting in different directions.
Suna's smile broadened kindly to the two of them, "You never thought it odd?"
"Never thought what odd?" Tokomon and Gatomon said simultaneously.
Suna rested her hands on her knees, her eyes going serious, "You never thought it odd that you were the only Tokomon? The only Nyaromon?"
The two froze, their eyes going wide. Of course they had noticed, had always felt it in their minds and bodies that they had never had a home to go to, never anyone similar to them. They exchanged questioning glances, receiving the answer that the other felt the same as they did.
"But…what does it mean?" Gatomon asked, still shaken. "Why are we different…?"
"I cannot say…you will find out in due time," Suna replied honestly. And in one elegant movement, she stood up to her full height, her tresses of clothing flowing about her form. The rest of the sand that made up her human face dripped away, revealing that of a dragon's muzzle. Her yellow eyes trailed around the room, as if taking it in for the first time. This went on for several minutes, the large, curious eyes examining the room, unaware that her formerly human body was losing its shape; horns emerged out of the back of her head, and lined down the middle of her back. Two great wings emerged then, and her arms and legs grew and shrank to be two lanky arms and thick hind legs.
Her eyes found the digimon, and they both jumped when they heard a voice in their head:
Good luck.
With a mighty roar and beat of her wings, Suna vanished.
It was several hours before the two older boys and their digimon partners awoke from their slumber. Unknown to all of them, they had all had the same dream about Suna in her dragon form. The digimon were the first to wake, and they stayed in their respective rooms to wait for Taichi and Yamato to wake up. Tokomon and Gatomon had retreated to their room after their encounter with Suna.
In short, Suna's Desert Palace was deadly quiet.
Outside it was early dawn, though not a soul could tell that given that it was already sunny out. It was like the sun had never rested in the first place, and night had never taken place. The heat was not a scorching, but the temperature was gradually rising...it would only be a half hour or so until it would seem as if no time had passed since the sandstorm.
A strange thing of sorts was hovering just near the mountains, not daring to move forward. It was a strange shape indeed, like a plump, deformed, upside-down gun. On its very top the Digimon Kaiser stood, glaring down at the earth below.
Wind swished his cloak, and his tuft of indigo spiky hair hung over his eyes, disguising the menacing look he was devising. Lifting a gloved hand, he attached something to his ear and began to speak.
"A-19, are the cannon's ready for offensive positions?" he asked tersely.
Almost, Master...give her ten minutes and we'll blow this place to smitherines.
"I see," the Kaiser commented, and then pressed another button, apparently switching point B of the communication device. "A-5, how are things there?"
Fine, Master. Ready when you are, came the female response.
The Kaiser couldn't help but grin as he switched off the ear piece. He bit his bottom lip, suppressing the urge to roar in a burst of laughter. With all this equipment...he was invincible...nothing could stop him from destroying Suna once and for all...nothing.
The static voice interrupted train of thoughts, Cannon's ready and armed. Just say the word.
"Good," the Kaiser straightened his shades, he had an unconscious feeling to look good while blowing things up.
He cast one more foreboding glance at the area, and shouted.
"SUNA! I'M GIVING YOU ONE LAST CHANCE! JOIN WITH ME AND I'LL SPARE YOU!"
He smiled maniacally as silence answered him, as he had dearly wanted. 'I thought so,' he noted to himself as he busied himself with turning his side of the communications on. And then a roar shook the ship, knocking Ken from his feet.
"What the-?!" he cursed, and stood up straight, darting his eyes around the desert, trying to find the source. His sunglasses thrown askew, his grape purple eyes were frantic.
Master! A-19's voice screeched in his ear, A dragon...right below us!
"Then DESTROY it!" the Emperor yelled, fumbling for something at his belt. Finding it, he tugged it off and glared at it.
A black digivice...it was different than the ones the original Digidestined. It had grip and looked slightly more updated. A red dot was beating fast in the middle of the screen. He gritted his teeth and cursed yet again, squeezing it. Standing up fast, he touched his ear piece.
"Fire! Fire no-" he was cut short as another tremor shook the device from his hand and sent it flying all those hundreds of feet to the ground...and Suna, the dragon, came into his view. Just the mere sight of her killed his breath, her wings flapping...sand pouring from her mouth and surrounding her in a barrier-like manner...
His brain suddenly felt like it was being squished by a child's hand, and he let out a loud scream and fell to his knees, grabbing his head. Those eyes...piercing him...tearing...him...apart...!
It felt like his thoughts were being unfolded, examined, and then being tossed away. They were replaced by bloody images...an accident...his brot-
"FIRE!" Ken screamed with the last he could muster. A split second later he felt the hold on his brain disappear. He looked up and saw that one of the cannons had shot clear through the body of the dragon. Crimson liquid splashed onto his face...and he...grinned.
Suna fell from the sky, and when she collided into the sand, a great cloud of dust covered them all.
The Kaiser's base let out an all out attack then, all cannons firing in one mighty storm that lit the world for miles.
Ken kept his arm in front of his nose as the base was now turning around and heading towards the ocean. The land he had just attacked flattened the mountains that had been around it, eradicated from existence like they had never been there. Whatever Suna had sought to hide in her underground hideout was most likely dead now. The Kaiser let his grin spread across his face. It felt good to have power. Lots of power. Real good.
The doubts Suna had put into Ken's mind were obliterated now. Hands on his hips he laughed triumphantly to the world.
The moment Ken unleashed a headlong attack on the desert of File Island, an earthquake shook both the Digital World and Earth. A violent quake, there were more than a hundred casualties. Weather patterns were altered drastically: a place that was originally snowing was now blistering hot, and vice versa. For the Digital World's inhabitants they were all accustomed to this strange pattern. On earth, it gave the common populace a scare every soul sat on the edge of their seat, awaiting for this dilemma to disappear and let them carry on.
Rumors spread. The end of the world was nigh. People with any sort of power tried to calm them, but to no avail. Riots broke out, and people insane with terror hurt, even killed those who tried to get in their way.
It was one of the same happenings of six years ago. The same awesome weather changes and the panic incurred by all. Only, on a much greater scale. Experts were puzzled, some even quit their jobs to get away from the ambiguity.
It had been ten days since the last earthquake that shook the entire planet. Ten days since ten children in the vicinity of Odaiba, Japan had disappeared.
Through all this, Ryu Ishida, the father of Yamato and Takeru, stayed in the television station, trying to find out what was going on.
It was in these days that age really caught up with him. Dark shadows under his eyes marked that he had little or no sleep for the past three days. The week before when he had come to find his children missing, he had just assumed they were out. It was two days before missing reports of all of Yamato's friends had showed up on television that had convinced him that they were back in the Digital World for one reason or another.
First the disappearances. Then the next earthquake. Satellites were in frenzy and a strange layer of Electro-magnetic substance surrounded the earth like a cocoon, disrupting all flows of electricity.
Ryu knew that the Digital World was responsible for all of this, but there was something missing. Something…like a memory on the brink of remembrance before vanishing into the depths on obscurity.
There was something else.
But…what?
Takeru.
His very spirit waned, and he floated once again. His face was innocent and scared, his eyes open and staring fearfully at the destruction happening before his eyes.
An island.
An island, being completely blown up.
His body trembled. The swirling mark on his heart twanged uncomfortably and he grabbed at it, scraping his skin with his bitten nails. Why did seeing something like that destroyed hurt him? And why, at the same time…did he enjoy it?
An empty classroom.
He was in his school uniform now, and from it's design it was the one he had had the last year before he'd moved to the cold region in Hokkaido…Kushiro.
His hands were folded in front of his face, and he stared blankly in front of him. This was the last day he would see this room, and his friends. If only for a while. When he was eight his mother had said they'd only be in Kushiro for a number of months before she found a better job back in Odaiba. This, of course, had never ended up happening, and it didn't seem to the boy that she had even tried to find a better job.
The door opened. He snapped out of his reverie and looked at the newcomer, only to see it was Hikari and Taichi.
He gave them a little smile, unbeknownst to him it made him seem several years older. Hikari ran to him, holding back her sniffles and telling him her good-byes. She'd given him a bone-crushing hug. Taichi had patted him on the head and told him to be a strong boy until they saw him next time.
"Takeru-kun…" the young girl wiped her eyes, biting her bottom lip, "I'll call as often as I can. I will!"
The boy nodded slowly, still unable to make himself speak. His slightly chubby fingers clutched at the other hand tightly, as if in fear for their own life. His dark blue eyes were clouded over, wanting, wanting to not move away. To move away from the only friends he'd ever had.
A hand. On his shoulder.
The boy looked up in to Hikari's concerned eyes. His hands lowered to reveal his mouth, which had been, the entire time, shaking. She gave him a soft, confident smile.
"We'll still be friends."
Takeru nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He'd cry later, he wouldn't cry in front of her. "I-I promise not to make any friends while I'm gone…I promise."
Hikari nodded with a small pain. Who knew that he would be gone for six years? None of them even suspected. The only one who had had an even smallest inkling was Yamato, and they had already bid their farewells.
Someone walked into the room. It turned out to be Natsuko. She was dressed formally, business like. She ushered Takeru over (who came with much reluctance), and gave the two others a sharp good-bye before hurrying them out.
The classroom disappeared, and Takeru was by himself once again. The mark throbbing.
Betrayal. They never cared. Never. All they cared about was themselves, they didn't even give a second thought to your feelings. Can you really call them your friends?
The boy held in his shock. The mark…the swirling mark on his heart. It was talking to him.
Can you, in all honesty, give them the benefit of the doubt? And what about your brother? I don't think he cared too much about you, even though you heard from him yourself that mother was always thinking of herself? I don't think mother was the only bad person.
The mark seemed to vibrate under his sensitive fingertips, and a black shadow flowed out of it like water. The mist compounded together, and soon, a shadowy image of Takeru was standing before him, smiling in a comforting way.
"Y-you…" Takeru mumbled, shaking, "Wh-What is this…?"
You. I am you, the side that you only reveal to yourself. I am your honesty. You can trust me, Takeru. You always have. You always will.
The shadow approached him in a caring manner. Takeru backed away, only to be stopped by the shadow's chilling embrace.
I love you, Takeru. I will always be there and take care of you. Together we will destroy those who have hurt us. Don't you wish that, to hurt those tenfold the way they hurt us?
"I…I don't know…" Takeru whispered. "B-But why kill them…? Why…? What's the p-point?"
They deserve it, love. You want to redeem what has happened to you then you will listen to me. They hurt us, and they knew what they were doing. Why else would they suddenly lose all contact with us? Tell me.
"I don't know." The boy whimpered as the shadow drew closer, pressing their bare bodies together. "S…Stop it…"
Indeed. I will stop.
The shadow figure pulled away, but kept his hands on Takeru's shaking shoulders, all the while giving that confident smile.
The mark on Takeru's heart was freezing, biting down to the innermost layer of himself. The boy's blue eyes were blatantly obviously held fear.
You will feel better basking in their blood, love. You will adore the feeling of their life dripping down your fingers, revel in the fact that you have paid your price. Grasp their hearts in your hand…squeeze it… You will enjoy it.
Takeru hated himself for admiring this shadow, and truly wondering what it would be like to rip the heart out of someone's chest. His eyes were wide and his hand was flexing, pretending there really was a heart there.
You see? You already are enjoying it.
"I…" Takeru lowered his hand in shame. "This…isn't right."
But you want it. And you have been deprived for so long. Be selfish. Take what you want.
"But…it's not right…I have no right…"
You have every right.
An image of his mother in her usual business dress. She gave him one of those fake smiles of hers. Takeru's mouth hung open.
"Mother."
Her arms were outstretched, awaiting him to run to her arms. He found himself rooted to the spot. His hands hung limply at his side as the shadow gave him a small push forward.
Go to her.
It pressed an object in his hand. A heavy object.
His gaze returned to his mother, who was still smiling. Her mouth curved, forming a word. Takeru's hand squeezed the object in his hand, his teeth gritting. He had never felt such a rage in himself before.
His eyes burning. Aflame…she had hurt him so…!
"Takeru."
"I'LL KILL YOU!" Takeru screamed, charging forward and pressing the button on the object, ejecting an eight-inch polished blade. He ran faster than he had ever run before, and he collided with the human he despised, depressing the blade straight into her neck. Blood splashed onto his face.
His mother's body collapsed onto him, her warm life liquid running down the side of his chest.
The blade dropped to the ground and ceased to be. The boy lifted up his hand and looked at it, stained with wet blood.
It fascinated him, his eyes twisting in an unseen joy as a mutated smile stretched across his face.
YES.
Iori struggled through the mountains, breathing heavily as he continued his ascent, having no idea why he was doing this. It was cloudy out when the first tremor shook the ground, and it soon began to rain, dampening his already low spirits.
He coughed lightly. He'd been travelling around for seven days, living only on the edible shrubs and berries he could find. The cold nights were hard on his eleven-year-old body, and still he drove on, something drawing him. It was a strange feeling.
His raw hands scraped against a sharp rock and he winced pitifully, unused to the jab of pain. Sure he had plenty of head bopping in kendo lessons with his grandfather, but nothing so painful as what he was going through.
The little boy faced things a little better than most his age would, the survival exercises his grandfather had taught him finally coming in handy. His sweaty hair fell across his eyes and he bitterly whisked it away, looking upwards to the rain, his mouth hanging slack out of pure exhaustion. His olive green eyes flashed and he took in a breath, pulling himself over the last boulder to find himself on top of the mountain.
The sight took his breath away. Literally.
He collapsed to the ground, barely able to believe what he was seeing in the far distance.
"No…no way."
And yet it was.
He got on top of the mountain just as Ken released his attack on File Island, and watched the island's demise.
It was nothing like a mushroom cloud, more like several large scale explosions, and then the bubble of a cloud seemed to pop, sending shockwaves in all directions. Iori found himself watching in utter horror as the island in the distance collapsed upon itself. He then saw the thick dirt shockwave getting closer and closer, and terror took his small body as he flung himself behind the boulder yet again, covering his head with his thin and battered arms.
A large sucking sound overtook him, popping his ears instantly as he kept a scream of pain in. He used his legs to push himself against the boulder, now covering his ears. Small pebbles beside him erupted off the ground and flew in the direction the shockwave was heading.
And then it stopped. All that was left was dead silence, and the slowly dripping rain.
Iori felt his hands sag down, and dust fell in rivers down his face. Shaking his head, a large cloud emerged around him. He suppressed the sudden urge to laugh and he slowly climbed back up the boulder, peeking his head over the top.
The ocean was now out of sight in the thickness of the dust. Squinting, he was even unable to see the source of the explosion. Assuming that it was safe to climb back over, he kept low to the ground. The feeling that he was being drawn somewhere still had not disappeared, and so, he crawled the direction he felt was appropriate.
The rain slowly picked up as he continued on, making the dry dust sticky and muddy, making him feel filthier than he already felt. He crawled on his hands and knees, which hurt his hands more than anything did. The feeling of being led was so strong he felt that he could have closed his eyes and just let his feelings take him where they would. But, for his peace of mind, he kept his eyes open.
His left hand suddenly came down upon a thorn that dug right into the skin and stayed there. Iori let out a scream, his other hand grasping his wrist.
Getting control over himself, he crawled slowly over to a nook of rocks to stay out of sight. Controlling himself the best he could, he delved to pull the thorn out with the nails that he didn't have due to them being pulled while climbing.
He gritted his teeth, huddling close to himself. His left hand beat frantically, the tender skin throbbing.
It was then that he heard voices.
"…way…heard it…"
Someone must have heard his scream, he presumed, and curled up tighter. He didn't want them to find him, what if they were enemies?
But you need help… his conscience reminded him, even you can't deny that.
"I know…" Iori muttered to himself.
"Over here!"
It was a feminine voice, and it was getting closer. The boy looked out and saw a pink bird with a manacle on it's left talon.
He rubbed his eyes. The bird didn't go away.
A woman with short red hair followed the talking bird, a small gadget in her hand. Iori retreated farther into the nook, very sure that he didn't want to be found by a talking bird.
Too late.
The bird's big, blue eyes were staring at him curiously from the outside, extending her wing in. "Come on," it reassured, "we won't hurt you."
"G-GO AWAY!" Iori cried, trying to hide his fearful eyes, "I-I DON'T NEED HELP!"
"Sure you do," the bird said reassuringly, grinning in its own way, "Just look at yourself."
"Let me try, Biyomon," another voice (he presumed it was the young woman).
The bird nodded, and stepped away. The redhead knelt down then, and couldn't hide her shock when she saw that Iori was a human. A child, no less.
"Oh, geez," she whispered, "Kid, are you okay?"
"Just fine. Go away," Iori snapped with a little less intensity than he would have preferred.
"Don't worry," she said, "We just want to help. I take it you've never seen a digimon before?"
Iori couldn't help but shake his head, retreating farther in as she tried to reach out to him.
The lady gave him a confident smile, "Okay then. Looks like you hurt your hand there," she motioned to the blood dripping down his wrist, "Let's clean it up…come on…we won't hurt you."
Iori eyed her suspiciously, hiding his bleeding hand under his shirt, "That bird…"
"Biyomon? She's a digimon," the young woman said informatively, "She's a good digimon."
"Darn right I am!" the bird digimon yelled cheerfully from behind the redhead.
She chuckled and held her hand out, "Really, kid. We promise not to hurt you. We're looking for something ourselves and wouldn't mind if you joined us. My name is Sora."
"Sora…?" Iori began, a little confused, "That's all?"
She grinned, "Nah. It's Takenouchi Sora to be accurate. But just call me Sora. What's your name?"
"I-Iori…Hida Iori."
"Nice name, now…come on, let's clean your hand up and be on our way?"
The boy nodded slowly in spite of himself, she seemed trusting enough. Giving her his other hand, he held back a wince as she pulled him out.
The rain against his skin felt extremely nice, especially after being in that stuffy nook for so long. He shook his head to clear his senses and muttered an apology to Biyomon, who took it well.
Sora gingerly took his other hand and examined the wound. She was very tender in her touch, realizing by the red how raw they really were. She found the thorn.
"Now, bite your tongue down. Hard. Ready?"
Iori did as he was told and nodded quickly, preparing himself for a large amount of pain.
She pulled it our smoothly, and it did hurt, but not as much as it would have if he had tried to remove it. Smiling she tossed it away and used her shirt to gently wipe off the blood and dirt.
"There," she patted his head, "that should do for now. According to this," she pulled off a strange gadget on her belt loop and showed it to him. The small screen had two lights on it, one red and one blue. Pointing to the blue one, she explained, "That's us," and then to the red one, "There's where we're headed."
Iori took a look in the direction that they were going to go, and did what would have been a spectacular double take if he had been a cartoon.
It was the same direction he'd been headed. The same destination.
"What's there?" he asked quickly, "What is there?!"
"Whoa, geez, I don't know for sure, Iori-chan," Sora said, waving her hands in front of her face. "Why do you want to know, kiddo?"
"B-Because…" he began, then stopped, looking down. How could he explain? She'd think he was insane, or in the very least imagining things. It was so impossible he didn't want her to abandon him, not after he'd been travelling alone for seven days.
She rested her hands on his shoulders, giving him a reassuring shake, "Hey, just tell me. The Digital World can do amazing things to a person. I should know."
Digital World? Iori discarded the matter and told her, "It's just…where you're going. For some reason…ever since I first got here I've been drawn by something or other to that same place. It's the reason I'm up here."
She nodded understandingly, and then put the device on her belt loop again, "Hey, I know the feeling. This may sound like a silly question, but do you have one of these? Or seen one?"
Sora motioned to the device and he shook his head to both questions. Sighing in content, she gave a tired grin.
"Okay. I was just wondering."
"What is it?" Iori said.
"A digivice!" Biyomon chirped, jumping. "It makes me digivolve! Or…it used to."
Sora repressed back a chuckle at the boy's baffled look, and his blank stare at her partner.
"Heh, well, Iori-chan, if you're here…you'll find out, right? But to save you the trouble…" she put her hand on his back and began walking in the direction they were supposed to go, "I'll explain it all on the way."
Digimon Odyssey
Episode Two (part two): The Prism's Roundabout
Iori kept his speculations to himself the way to wherever they were going. It was all too unreal to take in right away…did she really expect him to believe all that?
But Biyomon…
She should be proof that all this is not fantasy, but truly real. But the whole process of digivolution and alternate dimensions was making his head spinny.
"How's your hand?" Sora asked suddenly; concerned by his silence.
He looked at her, startled. He then realized what she was asking and flustered, "I-It's okay. It doesn't hurt anymore."
"Huh, that's good. I guess it's all a little…out of this world, eh? Literally," she smiled.
"Yeah…really out there…" Iori mumbled.
"Hey!" Biyomon cried, offended, "I'm still made of flesh and blood!"
Sora chuckled lightly and picked her friend up, poking her stomach, "Of course you are, Bee! Never said you weren't!"
"Bee…?" Iori asked, puzzled. Biyomon certainly didn't look like a bee. He suddenly hoped that she didn't have a stinger. It made an odd picture in his mind. A small smile cracked on his face.
"Yeah! It's her nickname, just short for her real one-hey! Are you laughing at it?" Sora commented.
"N-no," Iori grinned, "It's just…I thought you meant she was like a bee and I got the picture that she…" he chuckled again.
Sora thought about it for a moment and then laughed herself, poking Biyomon's stomach once again (whom was still trying to get what they were laughing about, as she had never seen a bee herself).
They walked on for another twenty minutes or so before they could make out a strange shape in the distance, through the dust and rain. After looking at her digivice again, Sora nodded and said that was the place. Whatever humor had descended on them flew away on swift wings, and a serious feeling grouped them together.
The rain lightened a little, but the clouds above did not break to let the sun through. It seemed to get more humid though, and the three of them all felt a little heavier, and it was harder to breathe.
The building in the distance was really run down due to time, and half of it looked to be missing (this part looked fairly new).
Sora's digivice began to beep now, and she looked at it worriedly. There were now three dots as opposed to the two previous. The new dot was purple, and she brightened.
"I don't believe it. Koushiro!"
Iori glanced at her, "Who?"
"A computer-whiz. You guys would get along well."
"Oh."
Biyomon and Sora engaged in a heated conversation then, both of them wondering idly how Koushiro looked after a week in the Digital World. They suppressed their giggles, and then Sora said something that made them both go dead quiet. Iori wanted to question their sudden silence, as they had been so energetic before…but he decided against it. It wasn't his business anyway.
As they neared the ruin, the fog surrounding it seemed to clear…if only a little. After they got a certain amount closer to the building, the air got clearer. It was free of the dust.
The first step they climbed, from the sound it was an old building. The pebbles made a satisfying click in Iori's ears, and even the hike left him breathless, he still enjoyed it for some reason or another. Somehow…something about this building just made anyone who was even in the darkest of moods to come out of it. There was something in it…and the feeling that Iori felt he had intensified tenfold. He sped up his pace, just a little.
"Hold on, kid. I'm tired," Sora complained in a joking way, "I mean…geez. You kiddies sure have got a lot of energy, even after travelling on scrap food for a week."
"I'm not a 'kiddie'," snapped Iori, in a more menacing tone than he meant, "My grandfather taught me many things."
"Like what?" Biyomon asked, bounding up to his side, "You look like one who practices…what was the word? Kara…Kara-something?"
"Karate," Sora put in her two pennies in the conversation and resumed walking.
"Yeah, that's it. Karate. Do you…practice Karate?"
Iori didn't know why, but he found himself grinning, "No. But in my Kendo teachings we learn body motions that are like the poses of Karate."
"So, um…" Biyomon pondered for a moment, looking dauntingly at the seemingly endless steps, "How long have you been…doing this…Kendo?"
"Since I was very young. About three, I would think."
Sora checked her digivice again, (which was now beeping maniacally), and she grinned to the two of them. Seeing their puzzled looks, she motioned behind the group and they saw Koushiro (with a passed out Motimon on his shoulder) just beginning to climb the treacherous flight of stairs.
And he looked absolutely horrible.
It seemed a week in the Digital World had really taken its toll on him and his digimon partner. His reddish-brown hair was a disheveled hurricane of knots, dirt and scratches caked half of his face. Koushiro's clothes seemed to be barely hanging on him.
"Oh, God," Sora cursed under her breath, and she bounded down the steps to aid her friend.
"Koushiro! Koushiro, are you all right?" she gasped between breaths, barely able to stop her momentum without toppling on top of the poor young man. She grasped hold of his elbow and he shied away from her, his eyes large and terrified.
Iori didn't move from his spot, feeling torn in half by the growing need to keep going up to the building and see what was awaiting inside that called to him. The other half wanted to go down there and help Sora, who had helped him. His hands clenched at his side and the ache of the raw skin didn't get through to him, he was so confused. A gentle wind caressed his face as he watched Koushiro fall on his rump, the small pink digimon partner falling off his shoulder and hitting the ground with a loud 'thwack'.
Hida…Iori…
A voice beckoned him. He snapped around in disarray, sweat dripping down his face. The steps seemed to stretch and stretch…until the entrance was but a speck in the far, far distance. His heart pounded in his ears, and he was unaware that he was trembling, a shivering wreck.
His feet moved of their own accord, and once he was aware of it he made no effort to stop it. It was far too late to try and resist the calling now… It felt like someone was taking him by the wrist and literally tugging him along, and, ironically, his arms were outstretched like a sleepwalker.
Something, someone was up there. He had to know. Iori was dashing before he knew it, wind whipping by his face. He was dimly aware of the people behind him calling for him, they were weaker than this other up here.
IoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIoriIori
His name repeated. Thousands of times, over and over. His arms pumped at his sides.
He made it. He was there.
IORI
He ran in the direction that he felt was right, for the cavern split into two hallways. Adrenaline was peaked, he was running faster than he had ever run before, even in his training sessions with grandfather had he ever felt so elated. The nature of his surroundings was of no consequence to him. THERE!
A secluded room in a tight crook in the wall; he barely squeezed through without minor pains.
There was…
…Nothing.
He resisted the urge to break down and sob then. He scanned through the room. It was bare.
Noise behind him. He ignored it and collapsed to the ground.
What had he been doing in this screwed up world? Trusting a feeling that he had absolutely no idea where it came from. What irony. His grandpa would laugh at the stupidity of his grandson.
But he had been…so…sure…
Biyomon was calling out his name, he could now acknowledge it. He gave a last despondent look around the room. He was about to leave.
Iori…
The twinge. Iori stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide. His heart was roaring in his ears again. Suspecting (or maybe hoping?) that this was all just a silly prank to play the fool, he turned around…slowly.
It was still the empty room, same as before. The boy let out a haughty laugh.
"QUIET!" he screamed then. Trusting his instincts, he could swear that he felt the one 'talking' to him hesitate.
My apologies…
Iori was the one to blubber now, his hands fumbling with each other.
But I truly thought you'd be able to see me in this form.
"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" Iori pleaded, his sweaty hands slipping and falling to his sides.
A shining globe appeared before him then, illuminating everything. The boy squinted his eyes shut and covered his face. Suddenly, his smart hand felt warm, and it smarted. He let out a small yelp.
The light evaporated, and Iori's hand still burned. He looked at it. There was a red line straight down the middle.
Now. Follow my instructions exactly, and all will go well.
"O…kay…"
First; if you look in front of you, you will see an egg, and a device. Both of these will prove vital to your trails later on.
Iori tore his eyes from the cut on his hand and indeed looked upward. There, where there was previously nothing, lay a rather strange egg with an odd mark on it, along with a small gadget not unlike Sora's digivice. In fact, the only thing different about it was that there was yellow material on the side and the shape was different. Entranced, he reached forward and picked it up. It beeped as it gained life in his hands, a detailed map of the area on the small screen with three dots, just like on Sora's digivice.
This is a digivice. With it you will be able to make your partner digivolve. You must not lose this, Iori.
The boy nodded.
Now, the egg. I want you to pick it up.
"That's it?"
Yes. Everything will take care of itself from there.
"Right…" Iori was still in doubt, but whoever was talking to him had proved to be trustworthy thus far. Hooking the digivice to his hip, he crawled a little closer to the egg. Tentatively, his sore fingers enclosed the egg and rested there for a moment, reveling in the simple fact that they fitted so perfectly on the rises and falls on the shell. He gritted his teeth, expecting tension. And pulled.
The egg came up without any struggle.
It is done.
Iori didn't know what was going on. He stumbled backward, suppressing a yelp when the sensitive cut hit the ground roughly. The egg was no longer in his hands, but hovering in front of him.
Ironically, a loud yawn interrupted the strange moment, and Iori was knocked out of his dumbfounded look.
The boy's mouth dropped. If that were possible.
In place of where the egg had been, an armadillo-like creature took it's place, tiredly rubbing it's eyes with it's pudgy claws.
"Aw, I was havin' sucha good dream too…"
Iori screamed.
Author's Notes: Geez this episode was hard to write! It's a little shorter than Episode One…but hey, I had to save some action for Episode Three! Expect the first digimon duel in the next episode, and the introduction of the other characters that I've (cough) failed to…incorporate…(coughs again). You'll soon see the reason for Takeru's killing attitude, and if you have any complaints, suggestions on improving, or compliments (grins shyly) feel free to review, email, or AIM me, I'm pretty much always available.
Also, for the record, the updating schedule.
Expect Digimon Odyssey to be updated twice a month, on the second Sunday of the month and the last Sunday of the month. This gives me two weeks to complete an episode, which is ample time for me! Take care everyone.