Judecca

by fetch-thranduilion

Huge REMSG crossover...A tale of masters, apprentices, and traitors. Who's who? You decide. Canto XV: Feanor, reclaiming Koichi's Spirits, encounters both a foe and a friend. Sequel to Dark Chest of Wonders.

9. Canto IX: Cupimon

Brace yourself, folks. This baby's long...and comes with quite a few disclaimers. First, the supporting cast gets larger, and I don't own the new guys, the Escaflowne people do. Second, to those of you who have not/are beginning to see Esca (o), you may notice things about one character seem a little...off. Don't think about it too hard. I tried not to write this particular canto so it would have blatant spoilers in it, but...yeah, if anyone was planning on seeing the show, do it before Canto...erm...uh...before long, ok? Third, please put up with Cupimon. I know he's random, I know he's OOC, but I've written him like this for so long it'd be like making him out of character for REMSG to switch to his real personality. I don't even remember why I changed it, since I'm usually such a stickler...but oh well.

So no one is mine. I don't own the lizard hat either, though I wore one this summer for work.

Judecca, Canto IX: Cupimon

I am nothing if not patient. When the Ten Legendary Warriors locked me in the Dark Area, I waited until the time was just right—until Cherubimon was just jealous enough—to make my move and corrupt the fool. When the pitiful loser failed me, I shrugged it off and dispatched the Royal Knights. Good plans, I know, take time, and sometimes it's best to wait. After all, the world had all but forgotten me, now hadn't it?

So you'll understand just how bad it was if I say that I couldn't stand one more second inside that stupid filing drawer.

I'd spent a day in there—a whole day!--listening to Yamaki give directions to mindless ingorami too lazy to try and find their own stupid books, and I'd be darned if I was going to stay, listening to him trying not to scream at them while they were in his face and muttering to himself once they'd left. And that lighter! Clickclickclickclickclick underneath the desk the whole time. Underneath the desk means nearer my head. I heard the clicking in my sleep. Though I did kinda feel bad for him—and he was much more accommodating, at least to people's faces, than I would have been in his position—there was no way in a million that I was gonna stay there and listen to Mr. Clicky one instant longer. I needed out. Now.

Escape plans, fortunately, happen to be a specialty of mine. (See above notes about earlier imprisonment and glorious resurrection). This particular jail was a simple one, so it got a simple solution—best to keep things balanced, you know, order being crucial in a utopia and all: when a rather frantic lady (probably overweight, to judge by the elephantine earthquakes each footfall sparked) pounded up to the desk and proclaimed that SOMETHING INVISIBLE IS IN THE PARKING LOT and I CAN'T PARK MY CAR NEAR THE LIBRARY and WON'T YOU PLEASE COME SEE BECAUSE MY POOR CHILDREN AREN'T USED TO HAVING TO WALK ACROSS AN ENTIRE PARKING LOT ALL BY THEIR LITTLE TINY SELVES, Yamaki went (grudgingly) to go see exactly what could be wrong, and the instant the clicking noise faded into the distance I hopped out of my drawer and into sweet beautiful freedom.

Okay. Now what?

I couldn't very well escape out the front door, Yamaki and Broad Bertha and the mysterious parking lot obstruction being in my way. And I wasn't sure that my wings in my current form could support my body weight, so that voided jumping out a window. I could smuggle myself out in somebody's bag...but that would only mean more time spent in cramped spaces.

What I definitely couldn't do, though, was just stand by the desk like a moron. The reference desk was in the dead center of the library: beyond the checkout area just before you reached the stacks. Stacks. Hmm. Good enough place to hide for now. Still trapped in the library, but out of the open. Stealthily I snuck into a corridor, large eyes wide to keep on the lookout for any bozos tramping my way. I hated being small.

Digivolve. I needed to digivolve. Now, how to bring that about? Yamaki was supposedly my partner...No! No, I wouldn't rely on him. First, he's who I wanted to escape from in the first place. Second, he probably wouldn't do it. Third, the ruler of the known universe relying on a stressed-out chainsmoker for a power boost? Soo bad for the image, ladies and germs. No, it was going to be Operation Lone Angel this time. Just me, and a need for Fractal Code...and whatever poor sap got in my way who could supply it. Screw secret escape plans. It'd be more fun to go commando. But how was I supposed to kill anything in this body? Yeah, sure, I had attacks, but nothing fast. And time was of the essence.

"What's the point in waiting? Just destroy the place and we're done with it."

An excellent idea! Wait. Who said that? Oh. Crap. There was someone behind me. Lookit me, Sneaky Ninja Meister who forgot to cover his own butt. Hopefully whoever it was hadn't noticed me yet...

Score one for the small guy! I turned around and nearly sighed aloud in relief, hopping up onto a shelf and hiding behind some books. Two men, and neither saw me!

Woah. Freaky looking dudes, though. The younger was wearing black leather and red body armor; with those angry eyes and that silver hair, he coulda passed for Raistlin's little brother. (Come to think of it, where WAS Raistlin? He'd disappeared to the staff kitchen quite awhile ago. Probably cooking up some new way to make all our lives miserable. All that "chance you've always wanted" stuff was bull. He was planning something, and I wanted no part of it. Oh, well. He wasn't here right now, and that's all that mattered.)

The other guy...had a freaking mullet. A floppy lightish turquoise mullet. I'm sorry, but I drew the line at being able to take people with mullets seriously. One of my failings, I know; Takuya had a bit of a mullet and look what he did to me; but to this day I maintain that was not my fault. I should not have lost that battle...ah, but why think about it now? Stay focused. You are ninja, Cupimon. You are ninja. Until you find something to scan so you can digivolve.

These two didn't look like scanning material: anything in dark imposing clothing generally has attitude to match and a rather big mouth (see: Raistlin, Reject, Soren...). But there was nothing keeping me from spying on them...and maybe sneaking out with them? Might be interesting, finding out why people dressed like this were in oh-so-modern Judecca. So I hunkered down for some Very Secret Spying Maneuvers and listened.

"There's no point in that, either." Mullet Man pulled a book off a shelf, started flipping through it. "Unless you want to get killed."

"Hah!" The younger man sneered, started playing with a scar on the right side of his face. "What makes you think anything here can kill me?"

"I don't. But I will."

Never before in my life have I heard a man snort in derision, giggle like a little girl, and chortle with pleasure all in the same sound, but this armored guy managed it. "You, Folken? You kill me? Like that, without your--"

"I don't need the arm. No citizens are going to be hurt in this maneuver." Mullet snapped the book shut, releasing a puff of dust, and put it back. Then he pulled out another one...a little closer to my hiding spot. If he made a habit of that, I was going to have some serious issues on my little hands soon.

"Now you play the hero. Don't you know I hate that?" He sidled closer, hand on the hilt of his sword...HOLY CRAP, HE HAD A SWORD...and a bit of a gleam in his wide, red eyes. I can't stand red-eyed people. Like Soren. They always have such attitudes. Dynasmon's eyes were sort of a brownish-red, and look how nuts he could get. This guy was Trouble, with a capital T and quite possibly the B...for Bam! You're dead!. I began to wonder if, in hiding in this particular location, I had committed a serious tactical error. "You weren't so noble in Freid, Folken. I still haven't forgiven you for what happened to Miguel."

"Dilandau." The Mullet Master turned to face his rather unstable-seeming comrade. "I don't know why I'm here. Certainly I cannot understand why you are. But do not forget your place. I was never stripped of my rank. I am still Strategos."

"When it suits you. Sly, Folken. I hate sly people too." Then you gotta meet Raistlin, kid. Please! Meet him and kill him for me!

As the armored man sighed in dramatic frustration, Mullet (or Folken or whatever) replaced his book again, and reached for another one still nearer to my hiding place. Oh shoot. Oh shootshootshoot. They were even closer now. How to get out without being seen?

"Patience. I am almost finished with my research. Soon we can explore this Judecca." Oh, so that's what section I was in. Local history, huh? Too bad I couldn't read. If I was going to overthrow Kaizer or whoever was in charge (an idea that had been fermenting in my mind for quite some time which I was getting increasingly drunk on), I'd need some background info...but if I was going to rebuild anew, what would be the point? "By the way...where did you leave your Alseides?"

"Outside. With the stealth cloak on." Dilan...n...the armored guy pulled out a book too, even nearer to me. One more book, and I was a goner. I could see the headlines: "Super-Deformed Angel Creature Scanned By Mullet Monster In Local Library." Ugh. What an ignominious way to go. "So who's in charge here?"

"It doesn't say. But their headquarters is here." Folken pointed to a picture in his book. "The CS Building. There's actually very little of substance written in any of these books. Almost like the town never had a history...like it was always like this."

"A stable country, eh?" Dil--Dil—oh, I give up—smiled smugly, crazily, cocking one eyebrow a bit. "We can change that."

"More than stable. Unchanging." Folken put his book back. Don't pick up another one, take your freaky little friend and go! I thought in his direction. Never noticed before if I could communicate mind-to-mind with people, but hey, worth a shot.

A totally useless shot. Screw waiting to be discovered. I leaped out from behind the books and hauled sissy ninja butt back to the safety of my filing cabinet, not waiting to hear the pair's responses. Yamaki hadn't gotten back yet, so I was in the clear in that regard. I leaped into the drawer, my momentum carrying me into the back wall and my force pushing back the drawer on its rollers.

Click. It was suddenly very dark.

Wait a minute... "click?" What meant this... "click?"

Gingerly I pushed on the front of the drawer. It didn't move.

I was such a genius. And I officially hated locks everywhere.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Odd," muttered Yamaki as he settled back down into his chair; I could hear it creaking above me and debated yelling for help, but decided that would be too pathetic: pleading for assistance the instant he returned. Let him forget about me and then be plagued with guilt upon discovering how stoically I bore my unjust imprisonment. Let him think he was the one who locked the drawer. "Something is definitely out there. But we can't see it." A tapping sound told me he was on the computer. "I wonder if..."

I knew, sort of, what was in our parking lot. At least, I knew who it belonged to. But I never wanted to see that person again, so I kept my mouth shut. Maybe I would take a nap, and when I woke up, the invisible thing and its owners would be long gone, and I could ask for assistance without the threat of them finding me. Like I said, I'm good at being patient. Plus discovering you'd make a really bad ninja—the hard way—takes a lot out of a person.

But a nap, alas, was not to be. Instead I heard the frantic, slightly nasal sounds of a very freaked Ken Ichijouji descend upon what I'd hoped would be an oasis of peacefulness in a thrashingly chaotic world. "Yamaki, have you seen Raistlin? Because Lyon asked me to tell him that all the fish in the tank are dying and the children are morbidly curious about this and he feels silly in the hat that looks like a lizard and whose idea was it to have a pet-themed kids' room anyway and while he loves children he could do without a million of them screaming and yelling around him while they pull off of the shelves the books he's spent hours sorting and could he please have a new job because he's just too weak for this one--" Ken paused for breath. "But he means no offense by reporting any of this."

Perfect. Lyon was wearing a hat that looked like a lizard and I was locked in a drawer where I couldn't see it.

"I haven't a clue where Raistlin got to. And I don't care. Go outside and tell me what you think's in our parking lot."

"What?"

"There's something invisible parked outside that's blocking most of our parking and the fire lane, which is a hazard should something combust. I need to know what that thing is."

"Something's going to catch fire?"

"Just go see!"

"Yes, sir. I'll check right a—Raistlin! What happened to you? Miss, what's going on?"

"Are you the people he's staying with?" An unfamiliar voice this time—female. She would under normal circumstances, I figured, sound very cool and crisp, but at the moment she sounded on the verge of frightened tears. "He drank something awful!"

Raistlin was drunk?

"Ken! I'm so glad to see you! How are the darling children? Are you helping Lyon with them? But Ken, I need to apologize to you--"

"Raistlin, wait! Get off of me! What are you doing? Please, don't hug me--"

"Ken, I'm so very sorry. But it seemed like such a good idea...well, they all did, except now I see they were all very, very bad, and I'm going to make sure I don't do anything like them ever again! Oh, I can't even say what I did, I'm so ashamed. I guess you'll find out soon enough—No! I have to tell you! I have to tell you because you have to brace yourself and there's nothing I can do about it now. Ken—oh, Ken, I always liked you, so inquisitive with such a bright young mind, too bad you aren't very good at putting the pieces together, but I didn't mean to insult you—oh, no, I did. Did I insult you, Ken? Because I'm very sorry. I can't say enough "very"s for how sorry I am. Very very very very very very very very very very very very--"

Raistlin was DRUNK!

"very very very very very very very very very very very--"

"Knock it off!" Raistlin—at least it sounded like Raistlin's voice—whimpered but did as Yamaki commanded. "Miss, what happened? How'd he get like...this?" The disgust oozing from his voice was obvious. I realized Yamaki hated Raistlin just as much as I did. Instantly he rose in my estimation. Really, he wasn't all that bad a guy...aside from wanting to stop well-meaning benevolent Powers such as myself from dominating the globe.

"I can only suppose it was that mixture he drank," quivered the woman's voice. "He toasted me and drank this horrible potion...and then he..."

"Kissed you. I kissed you. Because I love you, Crysania. And you don't have to worry about me! The potion didn't work! Silly mage can't mix for beans! Must be going daft in my deadness!"

Got that right, ya loony. Suddenly having metal walls separating me from the outside world seemed pretty darn attractive. It certainly wasn't an inhospitable filing cabinet drawer. Nothing unfriendly about it in the slightest.

Yamaki was typing again. "Don' t know why it would be up here..." he muttered, "but you never know...a-hah! Found it."

"Amazing," said Ken, who sounded like he'd had the life squeezed out of him. "Magecraft dot com for your occult online needs. Complete potion encyclopedia, updated hourly..."

"I can read, you know. Get away from my shoulder."

"Um, okay. Sorry."

"Whatcha doing? Can I help?"

"Why don't you go lie down in the back, Raistlin? You're...um...sick. Here, we'll help you." Rustling followed this, presumably Ken and the woman leading Raistlin away somewhere. About thirty seconds later I heard Lyon's voice saying, "Oh Raistlin, there you are! Ken, you didn't really tell him all those—what's wrong with him?" and Raistlin saying, "Lyon! You'll have to teach Soren now because you're the only one whose magic works! Ooh, and your hat is so cute! Did you know lizards are remarkably useful? One time I had this cough, and a friend of mine--"

I stopped listening and concentrated instead on Yamaki. "Lyon, get over here. And bring Soren. I want you to see this."

"What is it?...Oh, no. This is...he took this?"

"Apparently on his own. I knew he was crazy."

"But that can't be! He...he must have had a reason. A spell like this...and he didn't tell anyone the keyword?"

"Not that we know of. Where's Soren?"

"Shelving in the paperbacks. I'll go get him." So was someone gonna say what the spell was already? I wanted out of the drawer. Stupid drawer.

Yamaki groaned, a deep half-sigh that I could practically see deflating him. "First invisible giants and now this...and Hypnos trying to run itself without me back home...at least there I knew what was going on." Oh crud. Invisible giant. I'd forgotten about the weirdo two. The last thing we needed was for Raistlin to make some new friends. Despite myself, I wondered if they were still around.

Footsteps approaching in a hurry heralded Lyon and Soren's arrival. "What is it? I saw Raistlin being practically carried into the back--"

"He took this." Presumably Yamaki pointed out whatever was on the screen, because Soren began to read. And, thank whatever gods ruled his world, he muttered aloud.

"Spell incites good-naturedness...dampening and occasional extinction of magical powers; well, at least he won't be casting anything in that state...friendship towards all he meets...if mixed with residual caffeine, hyperactivity may result...short-term memory loss may occur...so he's going to be annoying and useless from now on? Damn!" Someone—I guess Soren—slammed a fist on the table. "And he's the only one with answers around here! We can't even coax them out of him if he forgets!"

Yamaki took out that confounded lighter and started clicking. "Read the bottom."

"Eventual lethargy that, if the spell is not thwarted by the speaking of a keyword determined by the caster, could result in death!" He slammed the desk again. Hey, if he kept that up, I could be free pretty soon. Bust the whole thing wide open. Bet he'd bruise his knuckles, though. "And let me guess: he didn't tell anybody the stupid keyword!" Soren choked on something. I don't know what. "That is so like him! Well, who'll be laughing when he dies, huh? No one!"

"Why would he do this?" wondered Lyon. "Why would he possibly--"

"Isn't it obvious? To spite us! He wants us to panic and run around trying to save him while in the back of his mind he can laugh like a giddy drunkard at our stupidity!" Woah, Soren. Hey man, you better lie down too, kid. Don't see you like this too often. "And now Ike...I'll never know how to save Ike!"

Ah. That was it. Concern for Captive Friend. Shoulda thought of that one yesterday when you came home from training in an independent little huff, huh? You stormed around the house making everyone's lives miserable about how you were gonna save Ike (which, by the way, is a monumentally stupid name) all by your little onesie. Bet you're sorry now.

I continued to berate the fool in my head for several minutes, amusing myself with different ways one could insult someone (which all boiled down to "you self-righteous jerk" if you stripped away the fancy words), until Ken came back.

"Raistlin's not looking too good. He said it was too much of a bother to stand up any more, that there were better things to do with his energy, like smiling. So he's lying on his desk and we can't get him to move. What should I do?"

"Eventual lethargy..." whispered Soren.

"Then death," breathed Lyon. "Oh, please no."

Yech. Dramatics. I decided that, before the drama in the air got any thicker, I'd better make my presence known, but a horrific crash and quake interrupted me. I was thrown against the wall of the desk as the building heaved (I guess) and more footsteps pounded towards the little gathering. Above sudden screams I heard that idiot elf:

"My sword! Where has he sequestered my sword? We are attacked!...what have you on your head, human?"

"Oh. A lizard hat."

"What?...Never mind, to war!" Somebody's hand scrabbled around, and I heard a scraping sound. "Here it is, under this table. Step aside, for I must combat these attackers!" And with that, I suppose he grabbed his sword and left. Good riddance.

"Wait!" Off Ken and Soren ran—I guessed Ken went to look after Raistlin and Soren followed ol' Pointy Ears. Feanor, that's his name. The one who lived in his son's brain for awhile. Which left me, Yamaki, and Lyon by the desk still.

"Yamaki, we have to get out of here!" begged Lyon.

"We have to find a cure for that spell!" Yamaki protested. "You go back to the house; it's still got a ward on it, but no computer. I'll look up possible keywords and once Raistlin's better--"

"YOU IDIOT!"

The words were out of my mouth before I realized it, and the minute I did I clapped both hands over the offending body part. I hadn't meant to say that. I hadn't wanted to say that...oh, yes I did. I was mad. Very, very mad. And I didn't even know why.

The drawer opened. Two faces stared down at me: Yamaki, despite his sunglasses looking very puzzled (so he HAD forgotten about me), and Lyon, looking stupid with a giant yellow plush lizard stuck onto his head. The legs hung down on either side of his ears and the tail bounced against his neck.

"What good will that do?" I asked Yamaki, furious. I started this rant, so I might as well finish it. "If whatever's out there gets us, it won't matter if we have a keyword or not! Just because you wanna play the hero doesn't mean you have to stoically stay behind! Forget Raistlin; forget that without him you can't go home! Who says you can't find your own way? Who says this place is worse than the one you left? You do! Some notion you've got knocking around your empty human head! This is why I want utopia: because idiots like you never see how what they think is right and noble is actually just really, really, dumb..." I started to cry. I have never cried before in my life. I didn't even know I had tear ducts. "...and how sad you'll make Riley if you die. People call me selfish; what about you? You want all the glory for yourself!"

Yamaki stared at me; Lyon mumbled something about looking after Raistlin and ran off, tail wagging in the wind behind him. Slowly Yamaki picked me up, held me at arm's length, marveling at something or other. "I don't..." he began. "It's all for the people."

"So is utopia," I snuffled. "Yet what do you do to people who dream of that? You lock them in filing drawers."

"You want to brainwash and enslave--"

The building shook again. "You know what?" I asked, the rage lessening. I was actually quite proud of that speech in retrospect. Nice touch, bringing Riley in. I hadn't even known I cared about her feelings. Why would I? Was I going soft? Musta been the lack of oxygen in that drawer. "Let's talk about this outside. Far away from here."

"No," said Yamaki. "We're staying right here." He set his lighter on the table, reached into his pocket for something else: his digivice. "You're right; saving Raistlin won't do any good if we can't find the keyword in time. But I'm right too. Why run when we can fight?"

So he was one of those types, eh? The active ones. Maybe I'd found myself a new Dynasmon. Just a bit of time, a little more trust...and he could be mine. And (I might as well be honest with myself) I liked the guy.

Actually, I thought as his digivice glowed and I felt power rush into me, expanding and altering my body in a burst of glorious ascension, I liked the guy a lot.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

So. That's what was parked outside, huh? Not too shabby. Nice flamethrower on that sucker. Though I wouldn't have picked a guy in body armor to be the giant-robot type.

A horrific, giddy giggling sliced through the air as the claws on the giant red robot sliced through a light pole; cocking the other arm, flames shot out and licked the buildings. The library itself remained untouched due to a shimmering bubble-shield that appeared every time the flames grew close, but I thought I saw the shield cracking. Now that its caster was, ahem, debilitated, it didn't have much longer to live. I couldn't see who was in the robot, but I didn't need to. I only knew one person who giggled like that, and his name was—well, I didn't know how to pronounce it, but it was him, all right.

"Burn!" he cackled as an SUV exploded. "BUUURRN!"

"Dilandau!" barked his companion from where he stood, watching. "You must stop!"

"Oh, but I haven't had my kind of fun in a long time, Folken. You had your turn and now it's mine. We'll smoke out whoever brought us here! That will get us answers fast!"

Hold on. Did Raistlin summon these guys? Naaah, they weren't his style. So there was another person with that kind of magic around? Maybe we could let Raistlin die after all.

But I knew I couldn't let Yamaki die, which at the moment seemed far more likely. Raistlin had been taken back to the house on Antenora, and Yamaki was still right here. So were Lyon and Soren, bu that was beside the point. If Yamaki died, I lost my power. And what bee-utiful power it was.

Flapping every set of white-feathered wings, even the ones on my head, I soared up towards the brilliant sun, dazzled by the lights both above and below me for a second and then righting myself. I was Lucemon again, and I was glad of it, but I couldn't let my euphoria detract from the fact I was fighting a freaking giant robot. And take it from me: Digimon who look like giant robots are a lot easier to kill than the real thing.

"Hey, hot stuff!" I shouted. Pathetic, yes, but I needed to get his attention somehow. "Want a real opponent?"

"Oh?" The robot turned to face me, cape rippling behind it. "Awfully small to fight one-on-one, aren't you? This might not even be worth my time."

I was hoping he would say that. "GRAND CROSS!" I yelled, attack blazing from my palms. Boo-yah, folks. Your Master's back. Bow to his power.

The red robot sure did; I doubled the thing over, probably just because he wasn't expecting it. Pyro (I think I'll just call him that from now on, as it's easier than Dil—Dilann—see? "Pyro" is so much better) made a sort of chthacking sound as his ride took the hit. "Wha—what? Oh, you're good. Maybe this will be fun."

You can shoot liquid metal claws, Mr. Roboto? I've got eye beams. I zapped him but good, then swooped upward, out of (I hoped) firing range. Poor widdle wobot, awl awone on the gwound. He can't catch the big bad angel, oh no he--

Oh crap. My wings were on fire. The stupid thing could fly; it changed its form so it looked kinda cocooned, and was now levitating behind me, roasting just my wings to a warm golden brown. And, of course, Pyro was loving it. I swear he sounded like a little girl riding a horsey on the merry-go-round, except he was burning me out of the sky. Somebody had issues, man. Even Dynasmon never giggled.

Needless to say, I couldn't maintain altitude for very long. Down I fell, trying not to scream from the pain that had finally kicked in but mostly just feeling very, very stupid. Never get cocky in the middle of a battle! I scolded myself. You yourself take advantage of opponents who do that! Idiot! You literally flaming--

A sea of souls rose to break my fall; I felt every byte of my fractal code shiver as the undead hands of Lyon's phantom army guided me gently back to earth. "Coulda done that sooner," I snapped, not about to harm my dignity further by saying "thank you" to a man in a lizard hat. "Like when the battle started, maybe? Get in there!"

Lyon shook his head, hitting himself in the face with the hat's front legs. "I don't want to hurt him. I can't control the phantoms..."

"He's killing everything!" I shrieked. "And we're next!"

"Feanor's the warrior, not me."

"Feanor has a flippin' sword and is fighting a man with a mullet." This was true; I guess even the fabled madman of the Noldor didn't mess with giant robots with flamethrowers if his Silmarils weren't involved. He picked easier prey, though as swordsmen the two were evenly matched. "You have this entire army of dead people—dead people, who feel no pain and can be resurrected ad nauseum—at your disposal and yet you say you won't fight?"

"I'm back," panted Ken, running up and interrupting my second quality rant of the day. Snapping his goggles of creation (handy things, those) into place over his eyes, he set about constructing something for himself out of thin air. From what I could tell, it looked like a giant robot version of his partner, Stingmon. "Hold him off. I'll be right there."

But what shape, I wondered, will you be in when you're done? Creating stuff with his mind and his goggles took a lot out of Ken, and he was worn pretty thin as it was. No, I wouldn't depend on him to be of much use. Best to just keep berating Lyon until I broke him down. Lyon was usually so easy to break down. The wuss.

Unfortunately, when I turned back to my wuss-in-progress his eyes were wide and he was staring at something behind me. Never a good sign. "It can't be..." he stammered. "How can it?"

Ken looked up. His project vanished as his eyes unfocused. "How..." he began. "It's...it's..."

"IKE!" screamed Soren. Okay, I figured, I'll bite, and turned around.

At first I didn't see what the big deal was. A blue-haired swordsman was standing on the giant robot, wrestling to affix what looked like a giant black bracelet to its arm, while Pyro tried to figure out how to knock his boarder off without taking pieces of his robot too. Maedhros of all people had shown up and was now engaged in combat with Feanor as Mullet Man slunk backwards into the shadows; Feanor was about thirty thousand shades lighter than his normal pale skin, which is saying a lot. "Nelyafinwe..." he gasped as Maedhros tried to cut his head off. "Heed my words! I am your father!"

"No father," Maedhros panted, striking again. "Have no father. Just have Kaizer."

Kaizer? A chugging sound alerted me of a third new party: a young boy sitting astride an enormous black motorcycle with a very smug look on his very familiar face.

"I found your evil twin," I told Ken, who didn't seem to hear me. His eyes were locked on Kaizer's face. His face. "How can it..." he mumbled.

Kaizer looked over and was equally shocked. "What! Who—what are you doing here! Did Raistlin create you to fight me?"

"The Digimon Emperor..." Ken looked more than a little dazed. "It's the Digimon Emperor."

KaizerCaesarEmperor. Holy freaking heck. Somebody reconstructed Ken's evil alter ego. This was definitely a problem...unless it had Ken's weaknesses too.

"We can take him," I shouted, stepping forward past the seemingly frozen Soren (okay, not quite frozen; he quivered quite a bit) and readying another Grand Cross. I was down, but not out. Who needed wings, anyway? They tickled.

"Wait," said Soren. "You'll hit Ike." The man in question had finished his task, the robot had seemingly shut down the instant the band was affixed, and as the blue-haired warrior mounted the motorbike behind Kaizer, Pyro climbed out of his cockpit. "What did you pissants do to my Guymelef?" he shouted, drawing his sword.

It was over in an instant. Kaizer snapped his fingers and the robot—still without a pilot, heck , with the cockpit open--torched its own owner. As Pyro crumpled to the ground, blistered but still heaving for breath (and whimpering a bit, it seemed), Kaizer hollered, "Pawn Mark Two! We got what we came for. Fall back!"

Maedhros struck one last time, then turned and ran for the motorcycle. Mullet Man saw his chance, grabbed his companion, and sprinted away. Kaizer revved the bike, but at the last second Ken ran out into the street, screaming. "Wait! Come back! Who are you? What do you want with this world?"

"Shut him up, Ike," Kaizer ordered over his shoulder, and as he and Maedhros drove away Soren's bestest friend in the whole wide world slammed the flat of his sword against Ken's gut, jumped into the robot, and took off too. Ken crumpled to the ground, and the instant he hit the pavement Soren sprang back to life. "Ike! Come back!" He ran forward too, and I feared the whole farce would repeat itself, but Ike didn't even look back.

Ever notice how it never rains until after all the tragic stuff has happened? How nature hates everyone and is constantly out to get them (another reason utopia would be useful)? If you have, it will come as no surprise that, as Lyon ran forward to assist Ken and Soren hollered after his turncoat buddy, and as Yamaki recalled my power and I shrank back to Cupimon again, the skies opened up and bawled on us for a full fifteen minutes.

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The rain had stopped sobbing. Soren hadn't.

"Raistlin, please...open your eyes...I'm sorry about what I said. Ike's too far gone for me to save him on my own."

Open his eyes? I'd be happy if he just stopped smiling. It was later in the evening of the Great Robot Escapade, we were all safe and sound in 616 Antenora Avenue (except for the lady who Raistlin had kissed; apparently she hadn't been able to make it through our front door for some reason and had run off clutching a choker she was wearing and screaming—yes, I think that's weird, too), and Raistlin would neither open his eyes nor get out of bed.

"So soft..." he kept mumbling, an empty smile on his thin lips. "So cozy. Could just lay here...forever...with the people I love..."

"Raistlin, Ken is dying. You have to help him," Riley pleaded. "We need you here, Raistlin. Don't leave us."

Yamaki said nothing: he'd stolen the computer from the library and was hard at work online, picking the darn place dry of keyword ideas.

"Never leave here...too nice...such nice people here...best place in the world..."

"No, it's not!" snapped Soren. "It's sadistic and it's twisted and it's all your fault, so you better wake up and tell us why you did this to yourself—and to us. Why you let that happen to Ike."

"Ike...don't know an Ike...nice boy?"

"He was, until Kaizer got a hold of him! Isn't Kaizer your enemy? Live to fight him! Fight him, because I...I can't." Soren hung his head. "I froze in combat, the one area of magic I can use, and now a member of the company is dying. I hate this place, but I'll do my duty. Yet already I've failed."

"Failed." Feanor was a little out of it too; the color hadn't returned to his cheeks yet. "My son..." Honestly, I didn't know what he was so upset about. He hated Maedhros; why wasn't he vindicated that Maedhros finally returned the feelings? He'd gotten rid of his useless son. I knew that if I lost Maedhros, I wouldn't miss him. Maedhros was annoying.

"Good apprentice...best I ever had...now let me sleep..."

"NO!" Soren screamed. "I will not! I am not a good apprentice, and I won't let you kill yourself so you can chuckle at us in the afterlife! This is your fault, now fix it! Fix it, because I can't..."

"...goodbye, Soren..."

"...I can't, and I want to be stronger, like you...no, stronger than you, so I can save people...stronger than my master."

"Then why, my dear apprentice, are you sitting here clutching my hand like a vice while that idiot in the other room slowly kills himself?" Raistlin asked sharply, sitting up suddenly. "Hurry and get the herbs from the medicine cabinet!"

"What?" Soren stared blankly, as did everyone else in the room.

"Are you deaf as well as doltish, apprentice? The herbs!" Raistlin tossed the covers aside as he swung himself out of bed. Catching Riley and Lyon's incredulous stares, he glared at them. "Riley, bring hot water. Lyon, take that preposterous item off your head. Apprentice, follow me. I see I have baffled your mind with this task, so I shall do it myself." He swept out of the room, Soren hard on his heels. Riley followed. Lyon took off the hat at last.

For my part, I sat right where I was and blinked for several seconds. Finally I said some of the most profound words ever uttered in such a situation; indeed, the very words running through everyone's heads.

"Okay...what just happened?"

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"Angel." Raistlin had this habit of sneaking up behind me and speaking suddenly that I really hated. But I think I covered my jump of shock pretty well. "Where is your partner?"

"Who, Yamaki? Smoking out his frustration that we didn't realize you'd pick a lame arrogant word like 'master' from the start."

"And how is he?"

"Alive. Grumpy. How should I know?" If Raistlin wasn't going to give information, then he wasn't going to get it. Certainly not from me. And certainly not on the same day that he nearly scared the living daylights out of us all.

"Excellent." He drew out the last syllable of the word in a hiss of satisfaction. I turned around, suddenly wary.

"Now what are you up to?"

"I have...a business associate who seems to have overstepped her bounds as of late. She seems to think that, though I am running this operation, she can hire coworkers whenever she sees fit...and whoever she sees fit. I must keep my end of a bargain with her to keep her in check."

I was even more on my guard now. But no more ninja sneaky. We'd all seen what that had gotten us. "And you need Yamaki...why?"

"She requires companionship. Let's just say...I have a job for him."

"This isn't the sort of job that would make Riley a very sad girl, is it?" I ventured.

Raistlin's lip curled in disgust, and I knew I'd overdone it. He turned and stalked off, not even deigning to give my crudeness a reply. I let him stalk. He had annoyed us, frightened us, and very nearly gotten us all killed, but in the end I had won out over him. I had been more annoying.

Utopia could only be days away.

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a/n: Who are the mysterious two people Cupimon encountered in the stacks of the library? What do they have planned for Judecca? And what does Raistlin want Yamaki to do? Keep wondering, because I'm not telling you in the next canto! Hah hah!

Sorry...really, I derive no pleasure from making people wait, but for the sake of the story those questions are best answered another time. Instead, we have Ken taking stock of the situation, making a request of Raistlin, and a Handy Plot Device drawn from my very own life. (Giant ravens not included in my experience.)

See you next time, then...if the Keep Lucemon In Character Squad hasn't moero-d me out of existence.