I have only one excuse for taking so long with this story: I. HATE. THIS. PLOTLINE! There's no opportunity for character interaction at ALL! I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT….But I need it for the sequels I'm planning to make any sense. So please, bear with this, keep reading it even though it sucks (and I don't use that word lightly; I'm more of a "stinks" person), and start reviewing with interest when I start posting the next story, "Worlds Apart," which is actually 2 stories occurring concurrently. Oh yeah. It's gonna be cool.

If any of this was mine, I would hate it even more.

Dark Chest of Wonders, Chapter Three: One Problem Down, One To Go, And Still No Sign Of An Interesting Name For The Chapter

"All the burdens gone/Open the chest once more…"

"You're gaping, mage," Raistlin told Roger, who stood slack-jawed and staring at the spectacle before him. "Surely someone adept as you has seen and executed similar displays?" The Black Robe's lip curled derisively, but the Conte Duke caught for the briefest instant a flash of envy in those golden eyes, a longing for any new art or power to be learned, mastered, controlled.

The same light doubtless lit his own face, for what the boy had done was no less than astounding. From a sniveling, crawling worm, he had created a masterpiece of a guardian, a gigantic silver insect, lightning-fast and ready to fight.

"GRANKUWAGAMON!" bellowed Ken's partner. "HRRAH!"

Roger saw tears slowly leaking down Ken's upturned face, like a cleansing rain washing the grime of worry and guilt from those pale, young features. "We really did it," he said softly. "And not just to Ultimate. We made it to Mega."

The demon, however, was less than impressed. "So. You created a Tag for your little friend. How sweet. Too bad you won't live to tell the rest of your friends about it. EVIL INFERNO!"

Another fireball sizzled to the earth; the bug whizzed out of the way and whirled around for a counterattack. In and out the two monsters danced and dodged, Daemon stronger but Grankuwagamon too hard to hit. Yet sooner or later, Ken's luck would run out.

Roger tore his eyes from the battle, mind whirring as he analyzed the situation. The elf: unconscious if not dead. The boy: cheering his partner on (If I were the demon, thought Roger, I'd attack him directly). The angel, the swordsman: arguing about something. Ne new man: shaking the elf, trying to wake him up (like that would help). Raistlin Majere…

…prodding Roger in the back. "It is your time now," he hissed. "Do you not see?"

Roger stared at him. "My time? I'm not entering that fray, no matter how much you would love to see me incinerated. I've had too many people flatter me—"

"—including yourself, it seems, but now is not the time to insist on your own superiority, you dolt!" Raistlin pointed an emaciated hand not at but behind the battlefield. "I told you before your trap was impressive. Such a spell is not to be used sparingly when so much is at stake."

A Gate? He thinks that thing can be stopped by a Gate? Clearly the man was mad. "At stake?" Roger asked, laughing nervously. "How is anything at stake? Even if we die, no real harm can befall us. For we are not truly alive."

"You and I, no. But there are some who are."

"The boy." Roger snorted. "I didn't take you for a sentimentalist. The boy is nothing to me."

"And the displeasure of the gods?"

"I don't give a damn about the gods!" snapped Roger, gnashing his teeth.

"Ironic diction," Raistlin said to no one in particular. "Especially from one who, I believe, was coerced into joining this organization by…"

Roger groaned; once again, he'd played into the younger man's hands. "So a Gate might trap the demon, sap his strength. But it will not be enough."

"Not unless we alter it." Raistlin reversed his staff so the crystal touched the sand, dragged it across the surface. Sparks followed its path. "Electricity and magic," he explained. "That creature is not composed of flesh and bone, but data."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter. You wouldn't understand. I could take all week and it is likely you wouldn't understand. We shall create it together." Raistlin's face was lit with darkness, a horrible golden mask smudged with shadows. "Now what is the spell?"

"Pardon me." It was the new man, the rich yet tattered young thing with the hollow expression. "I heard you say spell." From the expanses of his robes he produced a staff of his own, and Roger inhaled sharply as power began to ripple thought the air—dark power, sinister and focused. He's sick of giving in, he realized, looking at the young man's fragile yet resolutely set jaw, the upright on-edge posture. And he's strong.

"What's your name?" Roger asked, giving the young man his most brilliant smile.

"Lyon, sir. Prince Lyon of Grado."

"Excellent. Duke Roger of Conte at your service, my liege. Now, I have created a plan that…"

Raistlin snorted and flicked a grain of sand off his staff contemptuously. Roger shrugged it off. He was in control again.

And when the Conte Duke was in control, things had a way of getting done.

o0o

"That is one big swirly thing," said Lucemon as he and Anakin crouched in the shadows, the latter in full Dark Lord attire, tense and waiting for the signal. If the mages were going to go ahead with their plan, they would have to do it soon: Daemon was tiring of trying to catch Grankuwagamon, who now bore Ken on his broad grey-silver back.

Lucemon's palms were itchy with energy: he was in Falldown Mode, and the twin globes of light and darkness he wielded were eager to do their job. Come on, he willed the others mentally. Come on come on come on come on. He could practically taste the data, sizzling and sweet: licking his lips, he bit himself with his left fang and winced.

As if that itself were the signal, a gigantic explosion rocketed off of the back of the giant insectoid and straight into Daemon's chest. As he howled in pain and stumbled backwards, Raistlin, Roger, and Lyon dropped the invisibility spells they'd been using. Raistlin leaned heavily on Lyon's shoulder plate; his breath was coming in short gasping bursts, but even that could not destroy the glory of the moment.

Lightning flared up and Daemon shrieked, a wrenching scream that ripped into Lucemon's eardrums and rattled the rocks around them. The enemy was trapped; already the Gate was sapping his energy, robbing him of the strength to fight back.

On his partner's back, Ken hovered at his enemy's eye level. "You should've listened to Maedhros," he told his captive foe, but his words and eyes were cold. "Guess you wrecked your second chance."

He raised his hand; light flashed off his goggles, and with a sweeping motion he threw the bolt of thunder he'd created into Daemon's chest.

"The signal!" cried Vader, springing forth and sweeping his lightsaber back in preparation for a thrust, but Lucemon didn't need to be told. Already the sphere of lightning was streaking through the air; the darkness followed soon after, capturing Daemon in yet another prison. Final spells were cast by all three magicians; an army of phantoms swept over Daemon, hacking at him even as the lightning ripped apart his body.

With a final cry, the demon dissolved, broken down into bits of data. Ken exhaled, but the breath was knocked out of him as something else rushed towards where Daemon had been.

"No," Lucemon cried, blasting Grankuwagamon out of the way, "it's MINE!" Arms spread triumphantly, laughing giddily, drunk with success, he absorbed Daemon's data into his own digital form, could already feel the changes begin, feel his body expanding, changing, projecting his soul into the heart of the darkness he'd swallowed. Reject's plan had been the last straw; now the pesky humans would never order him around again! No one would!

Armor closed around his body, small in comparison to the behemoth his mind would control in addition to his larvalike form. A second chance, Ken had said. Well, this was Lucemon's second chance for utopia, and he wouldn't let humans ruin it for him again! He was a dragon, a larva, a mindless body, a controlling mind.

He was one soul with two bodies.

He was…

"SHADOW LORD MODE!"

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a/n: Yeah, cheesy names, I know. For all of you non-Digimon watchers…explanations in the next chapter, I promise. Stick with me, please.

Apologies to everyone who didn't get a review reply from me; I can't remember to whom I replied and who got neglected. Sorry! I will be replying from now on as soon as I get a review; hopefully this will solve my problem.

Tune in next time!