AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Happy Friday!

I've managed to get a fair bit of work done on the fic this week, so hopefully I'll be able to get back on track with semi-regular updates. (Famous last words!)

Not much to say today other than thank you all so much for reading and for all the love you've shown this story so far. I hope you enjoy today's update!

PURPOSE

With a cry, Iori swung his shinai high overhead and brought it down in a clean sweep. His opponent danced back, unhindered by age, and returned three quick blows to Iori's arm, shoulder and crown. Undeterred Iori crouched low and readied his weapon for another swing, but his grandfather straightened and lifted a gloved hand.

"Enough." Chikara's voice was quiet but firm, and Iori lowered his shinai and dropped to his knees, bowing his head. "Sit with me, Iori."

When their armour had been removed and placed in two neat piled, they knelt beside each other and spent a moment at peace, as they always did when the lesson drew to a close. Iori fell in to a contemplative silence, trying to focus on nothing more than the beating of his heart and the air in his lungs, but it wasn't long before the Kaiser pierced Iori's tranquility and he had to steal several deep, cleansing breaths to try and flush the boy's arrogant laughter from his mind.

"You are distracted," his grandfather said quietly. "You have not been this unfocused in some time." Iori bowed his head as shame flushed his cheeks.

"I am sorry, grandfather."

"It is not an apology I want. Rather, an explanation." Iori looked up to find his grandfather still kneeling stoically beside him, his eyes staring out over the dojo. "You have always been my best student, Iori, and I don't just say that because you are my grandson. You are more diligent and attentive than your peers, and this distraction does not irritate me; it concerns me." Iori tried to ignore the lump in his throat, but it was so big that he could not squeeze a lie past it. He couldn't allow himself to tell his grandfather about the Digital World, and it was unfair to expect understanding without all of the details.

Still… his grandfather had ever been perceptive and able to understand the rare occasions when Iori was unable to tell the full tale, and his advice had always steered Iori true in the past. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to decide where to begin. His grandfather waited in patient silence.

"There is…" he paused, trying to find words less callous that those that came to mind, "…a person who is intent on causing him to others; to my friends. It angers me, and it unnerves me to feel so helpless when he is just a boy. He is hurting so many by being ruthless and cruel and unjust and-" Iori stopped himself abruptly, having heard his own voice shouting back at him. He bowed his head and mumbled an apology to his chest.

"And is there anything you can do about it?" Chikara asked, his voice level and calm. Iori clenched his fists. He felt that he should be able to – he was a Chosen Child, just like the others – and yet he felt that he had done little to deserve the title. He couldn't claim to have Daisuke's fiery courage or Miyako's stalwart sincerity. He couldn't claim to always see a flicker of hope in the darkest abyss like Takeru, and he didn't know whether he could be able to keep face against his partner as Hikari did. As for the older Chosen, they were a formidable team even without the partners; their prior experiences in the Digital World had given them a strength and an understanding that Iori could only hope to one day achieve.

"I am afraid," Iori finally answered in the calmest voice he could muster. "I feel that a lot is expected of me, and I'm standing in tall shadows. I don't know that I can do what is being asked of me."

He lifted his head then, his eyes landing on Takeru who, in two weeks, had managed to regain most of the use of his shoulder. Today he had been partnered with Yamada who was two years older and almost ruthless in his strength. He attacked high, slicing his long Bo staff through a gap in Takeru's defences where his injured arm could not defend him. Takeru grit his teeth and pressed on, allowing the blow to stagger him only for a moment before his redwood staff replied. Behind him, in the shelter of the Kyudo range, Hikari knocked another arrow and set her sights on the distant target. The arrow slices through the air, landing in the middle of the centremost circle, and Hikari set off to retrieve it. Her bow was too small for her to study kyudo archery, and the traditional yumi bow had proven too tall and cumbersome for her style of shooting, but she came whenever Takeru did and if there was space at the range then Matsudo-sensei would allow her to practice nonetheless.

"Tell me, Iori, what do we believe is the purpose of Kyudo?" The question was so sudden and unexpected that Iori stumbled for an answer.

"S-seishi hicchu," he finally stammered. "True shooting, certain hitting. Matsudo-sensei teaches that if you perform the necessary steps, you will achieve your goals." Chikara nodded slowly.

"Your friend does not attend Matsudo-sensei's classes, and she does not follow the traditional steps of kyudo," he observed. "Without proper technique and training, will she ever achieve seishi hicchu?" Iori thought for a moment, watching as Hikari returned to her post. She took a deep breath and notched another arrow. Her bow seemed even shorter than usual today, and Iori shook his head. His grandfather smiled. "And yet, I have not seen one of her arrows go astray. Is it possible that she has overcome these limitations to perform what is needed even in spite of them?" Iori nodded slowly, catching the twinkle in his grandfather's eye as he asked: "Now tell me, what is the purpose of Bojutsu?"

Iori frowned, glancing back to Takeru. Despite his injury, it seemed he had won the spar, and he and Yamada exchanged a deep bow before relinquishing the floor to the next pair. Bojutsu was part of modern Bushido-Samurai teachings and did not have a purpose in itself, but Iori knew his grandfather was attempting to lead him towards some form of realisation. And so, following instead Chikara's broad type of logic, Iori gave his answer carefully.

"If we follow the purpose of Bushido, then it would be a dedication to fearlessness and readiness to sacrifice for a higher purpose." The answer earned a smile and a nod.

"And that purpose is?"

"It's different for every person," Iori answered, not quite sure of himself. When his grandfather did not correct him, he continued. "Bushido uses discipline, meditation and self-discovery as a pathway that leads to the discovery of that purpose." Another nod.

"And do you think that these disciplines may be related? That self-evaluation and discovery might help one overcome their limitation and achieve their goals?" Iori nodded slowly.

"And to 'promote peace and prosperity among all peoples'," he recited quietly, having already followed his grandfather's thoughts to the purpose of Kendo. Chikara nodded with a smile.

"Just so," he said warmly. He turned to Iori then. "I cannot tell you what you must do, Iori, because I believe there are things you cannot share with me. But I can tell you that even in the darkest of times, you are responsible for your actions. You could sit and you could worry, which would lead to nothing. You could allow others to tell you what you should do, which may lead you along the wrong path. Or you can look within yourself and decide how best you may serve those around you. Trust in yourself, Iori, and trust that those dearest to you will tell you what they need most."

The words washed over Iori, bringing with them a feeling of calm that often accompanied his grandfather's advice. He supposed he had been trying too hard to follow in the footsteps of others, and in doing so he had become so wrapped up in the conflict surrounding the Kaiser that he had lost sight of himself. He had allowed himself to become distracted by anger and hatred, when he should have been focusing on how best to help those around him.

His grandfather's poignant words followed him for the rest of the day, echoing in his mind as they freed a village from the watchful gaze of a nearby Control Spire. The Kaiser did not make an appearance, and Iori found a sense of peace in helping where he could – asking Digmon to shelter the other Chosen when the tower began to crumble, and helping Hikari hand out food and refreshments to the newly-freed digimon whose own stores had been plundered for the Kaiser's arsenal. But the more peace Iori found in the needs of those around him, the more worry knotted his stomach as on phrase kept circling through his thoughts.

Peace and prosperity among all peoples.

When he sat down to dinner, he could not hear his mother over the words ringing in his mind, and he felt like he had to shout when he asked if he might be excused to eat the remainder of his dinner in his room (a request that was begrudgingly granted when his grandfather placed a gentle hand on his mother's elbow). The remainder of his dinner was given to Upamon, and after returning the dishes to the kitchen they settled down together. Upamon turned off the light, and at the Digimon's request Iori shared his troubled thoughts.

"And you're all worried that peace among all peoples might not just be all that do-able," said Upamon as Iori fell silent.

"I just don't see how we can possibly make peace with someone like the Kaiser, and even if we could… I'm not sure that I want to," he admitted quietly. "How can we work alongside someone so awful? And how can we ask Tailmon or Hikari or the others to do it? It would be cruel."

"I don't know, Iori," Upamon drawled before grinning widely, "but I know that whatever you do, I'm gonna do it right beside you." He punctuated the statement with a firm nod before bidding Iori a quiet goodnight. Upamon was asleep in an instant, his gentle snores a comforting sound in the darkness of Iori's room, but it took several more hours before Iori could finally drift off in to a fitful rest.

Wormmon winced as he scuttled down the corridor, moving as quickly as his injured side would allow. It had been almost three weeks since Ken had claimed his first Digimental, and he was no closer to figuring out its secrets. Meanwhile, the Chosen were continuing to make a nuisance of themselves; not quite strong enough to defeat him, but not so weak that Ken could afford to ignore them. Wormmon had clung to his partner as much as Ken would allow, offering comfort and support and anything else he could think of to lead Ken towards his much-wanted epiphany, but Ken's frustration made his temper uncontrollable and more often than not Wormmon found himself limping from the control room with the marks of Ken's wrath littered upon his skin.

"There has to be some way of understanding them," he muttered to himself. "Maybe he would go back to his old self again if we could just get them to work-"

"Did you ever think that they're not working because he's not worthy?"

LadyDevimon's voice was cool and quiet, but it still echoed through the empty chrome corridors. Wormmon hesitated, steeling himself before he turned to face her. She loomed high above him, taller even than Ken, and her face was fixed with her usual sneer of disgust that she seemed to wear whenever she found herself within the walls of the base. Wormmon knew the feeling well, and if his face was as expressive as hers then perhaps their features would have matched. The walls of the base oozed darkness that made his pincers twitch, leaving an uneasy feeling in his belly. He couldn't begin to imagine what it was doing to a digimon who should have been nothing but light.

"Why do you put up with him?" she asked, her tone a little lighter. Wormmon lifted his chin.

"He's my partner," he answered firmly.

"He's your master."

"He's not!" He heard the warble in his voice, and when the demon over LadyDevimon's shoulder cackled silently at him he shrank back. "He hasn't always been like this… I just wanted to help… We're partners…" He remembered a younger, kinder Ken who would hold him close and promise that nothing would ever hurt them again. He remembered the first time they'd met, when Ken had been so sad and lost and Wormmon had been ready to guide and to help. Remembered how they'd shared food and stories and love until Wormmon had felt like bursting with joy.

He didn't realise that he was crying until LadyDevimon knelt beside him and gentle brushed the tears from his cheek.

"Then help us," she said softly. Beneath her cowl her crimson eyes pleaded with him. "If there is anything left of the Ken you remember, then I know how we can get through to him. Hikari can bring out the best in anybody – the kindness – the light. Please, Wormmon, if you just set me free-"

"I can't," he mumbled, dropping his eyes to the floor so that he wouldn't have to see her disappointment. Ken was right; he was good for nothing more than letting people down, and he couldn't even do that well. "You're his favourite; he'd notice if you were missing." LadyDevimon took a moment before she spoke again.

"Agumon, then," she suggested. "His partner is my partner's brother. She will still help us; they all will." Wormmon shook his head again.

"He was Ken's first trophy. MetalGreymon was the first perfect digimon under his control; he won't let Agumon go without a fight."

"Biyomon and Palmon-"

"If you keep talking like this, Ken will put a new spiral on you," Wormmon warned. "He doesn't know how much you've broken the old one. Please don't show him. I'll find a way to get through to him, and then all this can stop. I promise. I just need a little time." LadyDevimon opened her mouth to protest but he scurried backwards, pressing himself in to the wall and glancing up at her with his talons pressed together. It was no longer effective on Ken, but LadyDevimon paused for a briefest moment as though afraid she had already hurt him. "Please, give me time, I promise I can fix this."

"You wouldn't have to fix it on your own if you would let us help-"

"LadyDevimon!" Ken's bark was distant and commanding, and LadyDevimon straightened with a hiss that turned in to a sigh.

"At least think about it," she said softly before gliding down the hall and out of sight. Wormmon waited, listening to the echo of their heated voices. Then came the hissing and whirring of several doors, including a howling gale that told Wormmon the outer doors had been opened, and then silence. Ken had left. Wormmon sighed in relief; his partner's timing couldn't have been better.

Wormmon sight and continued down the hall, twisting and turning down a series of narrow passages and winding staircases until he reached the cells in the belly of the base.

At first, when Ken's prisoners had been nothing more than innocent bystanders caught in Ken's path, Wormmon had convinced him that perhaps they would be better kept on the ground than within the walls of Ken's fortress. The digimon partnered with children, however, were digimon that Ken kept like prized trophies and he kept them within reach. They were stronger than other digimon that Ken had captured, and with them both strengthening Ken's position and weakening that of the other children, Ken was reluctant to give them the chance to rescue their partners.

Wormmon paused before Palmon's cell. He glanced nervously over his shoulder, but nobody beside him and Ken were authorised to access this level of the base. He was alone. Palmon did not impress Ken like the others, and he'd been happy to leave the 'oversized pixie' to rot in the darkness. Wormmon, on the other hand, found the digimon terrifying at every stage. As Lillymon, her Flower Cannon left smoking craters in her wake; as Togemon, she towered over most buildings and pierced the ground with her fearsome Needle Spray; and even as Palmon, she could wrap her vines tightly around Wormmon and crush the air from his lungs (a trick Ken had shown him more than once when she had first been captured).

So it was with no small amount of trepidation that Wormmon unlocked the cell door and slipped inside. Palmon was asleep, resting in a nest of her own vines and leaves. He crept forwards, aware of every thundering click of his claws against the hard floor. It was a miracle that the noise didn't wake her, and he paused halfway to make sure she wasn't luring him in to some false sense of security. Wormmon wasn't exactly disobeying any orders, but he certainly wasn't following his partner's rules. When she didn't move, he pressed forwards with baited breath. The spiral was wrapped around her ankle, and with baited breath he dug through the sleeping shrubbery until his claws could latch on to it. With a swift tug he pulled the spire clean off, trying to ignore the slivers of green that came with it. Palmon stirred in her sleep, but to Wormmon's great relief she simply groaned and wrapped her vines tighter around herself.

Wormmon hurried for the door, not daring to breathe until he was outside the cell. Palmon was still sleeping, and he sucked in a sharp breath before launching the spiral high in to the air. It bounced against Palmon's head before clattering to the ground nearby, and Wormmon ducked in to the shadows as Palmon lifted her head and blinked her bleary eyes. She set her sights on the spiral, and after staring at it for several moments she glanced down at her leg. Slowly the vines retracted and she stumbled to her feet, making for the open door. Wormmon pushed himself flat against the wall, holding his breath as she passed. She paused at the end of the hall, glancing this way and that before turning left.

As soon as she was out of earshot Wormmon quickly scurried back to the control room. He leapt into Ken's chair and tapped at the controls, watching Palmon on the cameras as she made her way through the labyrinth of corridors. Eventually she came to a dead end – an exterior door that could only be opened by Ken's D-3, or by a switch on the control panel which Wormmon quickly stepped on. Palmon blinked several times as the wind swept in, and she hid behind her leafy arm as she stumbled out towards the light.

Wormmon sagged in relief, though his stomach was tying itself in knots. He had no idea how he would explain this to Ken if he found out (when he found out). His only choice now was to hope that Palmon could reach the Children and the Children could help Ken before it was too late.

Miyako slumped against the base of the sofa with a sigh, cradling Poromon against her chest. Her partner snuggled closer and released a soft whir of content, burrowing in to Miyako's sweater and falling deeper in to sleep. Miyako felt like joining him. The Kaiser had finally decided to confront them today, and in addition to the bone-aching exhaustion that had taken hold of Miyako over the last few weeks there was now a heavy feeling of despair. They'd barely made it to the gate in one piece. She sighed and let her head loll back, running her fingers through her partner's short feathers and remembering a time when Friday evenings had been filled with video games and staying up way past her bedtime, and the only adventure to be had over a weekend was stored on a cartridge and could be ended with the flick of a switch.

She took some small solace in the fact that she was not the only one looking defeated. Taichi was pacing nervously, his eyes never leaving his sister. She was sat in front of Jou who was nursing her injured face from where LadyDevimon had batted aside her barrage of arrows before throwing her into the dirt. Iori was as stoic as ever, but his hand trembled as it rested on Upamon's forehead from where he had been scratching his partner behind the ear until Upamon had fallen asleep. Daisuke and DemiVeemon were sitting quietly in a corner, Daisuke watching his sleeping partner intently. Something had changed about them in the days since Hikari's disappearance and return, and his renewed willingness to dive head-first in to any fight had left his partner devolved and unconscious. Takeru, Yamato and Sora were in the kitchen making tea while Patamon had perched himself atop a bookcase and was nodding in to a daze. Koushiro was sitting at the low coffee table, frantically tapping on his laptop – or, at least, he was until he growled suddenly and folded his arms with a furious frown.

"What's wrong?" Taichi asked.

"You're not going to like it."

"Obviously." Taichi crouched down beside Taichi and peered at the screen before jabbing his finger into it ("Careful!" Koushiro scolded). "Wait, isn't that the area we freed yesterday?" Koushiro's frown deepened as he peeled Taichi's finger back, wiping at his screen with his sleeve.

"Yes," he answered stiffly. "And here's the area we cleared the day before. Looks like the Kaiser's been busy." Daisuke groaned and threw himself back against the carpet.

"How are we supposed to beat this guy if we can't even keep up with him?" he moaned.

"We might have a chance if we were at full strength," Hikari murmured. Taichi reached down to place a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Well maybe that's what we should focus on," Miyako suggested. Daisuke turned his head to glare at her.

"I'm not sure what mission you've been on but maybe you missed the point of ours," he snapped. If not for Poromon sleeping in her arms, Miyako would have hit him.

"I mean forget everything else and put everything we have in to freeing the digimon," she answered tightly. Daisuke propped himself up on his elbows and gaped at her.

"And in the meantime, maybe we send the Kaiser a nice little hamper and ask him if he wouldn't mind please just putting his plans to rule the world on hold for a bit," he spat. Taichi motioned Daisuke for quiet with a wave of his hand before pushing himself forward until he was perched thoughtfully on the edge of the pillows. Sora and the others arrived then, with trays of tea and biscuits.

"It's worth considering," Sora said quietly as she passed two steaming mugs to Jou and Hikari. "We don't have the strength or the numbers to try keeping up with him and trying to get our partners back." Taichi's hand lingered over hers whens he passed him his tea.

"We'd be risking the lives of innocent digimon," Taichi said after a pause. "If the Kaiser moves this fast, imagine what he could do in the time it takes us to free them."

"But think of how many more digimon he'll hurt if we let it drag on like this," Sora countered kindly. She gave her last mug to Miyako before setting the tray down beside Koushiro's laptop.

"We can't take on the Kaiser without them," Yamato murmured as he and Takeru settled on the sofa. Jou frowned as he packed away his supplies.

"I don't like the idea of leaving him to his own devices," he muttered. "Especially not at his current pace."

"Unless we slow him down somehow," Takeru murmured. After a moment he sat up a little taller. "What if the Kaiser's only going this fast because we are? What if he's reacting to us?" Taichi frowned.

"You think if we back off, he'll ease up?" Takeru nodded.

"He's never been this active before, but he's still got a life and an image to maintain here. It can't be easy doing both."

"Or he uses us not doin' anything to do even more," Daisuke grumbled. Takeru nodded solemnly, his shoulders drooping a little. Taichi placed a hand on Takeru's good shoulder.

"Either way, Yamato's right. We can't stop the Kaiser without our partners. We need to put an end to this now."

"But we have no idea how to beat him," Jou sighed. "And even if we get one of our partners back, he'll just lock up the others." Taichi's expression hardened and he nodded in agreement. Koushiro's computer gave a quiet ringing noise.

"We need to set up some kind of trap," he said as Koushiro leaned forwards to answer the call. "Something that makes sure he brings all of our partners at once."

"We can help with that!" The voice was small and tinny through Koushiro's speakers, but Miyako recognised it all the same.

"Mimi!" They huddled around the screen; Miyako found herself wedged between Hikari and Daisuke as they peered at the video call. Mimi smiled at them from behind a tangle of freshly-dyed vibrant orange curls.

"You'll never guess who I spoke to today!" She motioned something off screen and shited to the side as an unfamiliar face walked in to view, clutching a laptop close to his chest. Wavy yellow hair was slicked back away from a tanned face, and big green eyes blinked at them as he greeted them in broken Japanese.

"This is Michael," Mimi introduced before motioning for him to turn the laptop around. "He's a Chosen Child too, just like us! And this is some good news I think you guys need right now." The screen of Michael's laptop displayed a digital gate. Through the video call the screen was a little blurry, and the green shape on the other side of the gate waved.

"Hi guys!"

"Palmon!" Koushiro greeted, his voice overflowing with relief. "But – how?!" Palmon quickly ran them through what she remembered; waking with her spiral on the floor and her cell door open, she'd made her way out of the Kaiser's base to freedom. She'd waited long enough to see if anyone would come after her, and when nobody came she had zigzagged through the nearby forests until she'd come across Tentomon and the nearby television set.

"So you know where the Kaiser's base is?" Taichi asked, his voice sharp.

"Yes, but it's very well-guarded," said Tentomon.

"It was hard enough trying to get out of there," said Palmon. "If the Kaiser's not around you might stand a chance of getting in, but you'd have to guarantee he'd be elsewhere and there's no way to do that."

"What if we created a diversion?" Daisuke suggested. Taichi nodded, and Miyako rolled her eyes as Daisuke's face lit up like a three-year-old who'd just found an extra nugget in their Happy Meal.

For a moment they fell silent and all eyes fell to Taichi as he wrapped himself in thought. Miyako could practically see the wheels turning in his mind. After a long pause, Yamato leant back in to the couch with a grimace.

"He's planning something crazy," he mumbled to Sora who only smiled fondly. Taichi raised an eyebrow before turning his head towards the screen.

"Hey, Palmon," he began slowly, "if we get the Kaiser and some of his cronies away from the base, d'you reckon you could sneak back in if you tried?" Palmon took a long while to answer.

"I suppose…" she said tentatively, "but only if the base was really deserted. When the Kaiser finds out I'm missing, I doubt he'll leave for anything." Taichi nodded, a fierce glint in his eye that made Miyako shiver nervously. He glanced at Hikari and her lips formed a small 'o'.

"Unless we draw him out." Taichi grinned at her before turning back to the screen again.

"You won't be able to draw everyone away," Palmon warned. "He doesn't want to make MetalGreymon fight unless he has to in case he turns in to SkullGreymon again. He doesn't let Agumon out of the cells."

"Even better. You reckon you could sneak Koushiro in there so he can plant a super-virus inside the Kaiser's computer?" Palmon looked unsure.

"I don't know…"

"We don't even know if I would be able to get in to his systems," Koushiro interjected. "We still don't truly understand how the control spires and the spirals even work."

"You hacked in to Etemon's dark network."

"There's no guarantee that the two are even remotely similar," Koushiro countered, "not to mention any layers of additional protection the Kaiser might have in place. For all we know, my accessing the system could trigger an alert that brings him right back, meaning any diversion we've created is meaningless and then we're trapped inside." Taichi sighed through a frown.

"If we can draw the Kaiser away from his base," Yamato began, pausing to add, "and that's a big 'if' already, then Mimi and Palmon should sneak in and free Agumon. It might be our only shot if the Kaiser is keeping him locked up so tightly." Taichi grimaced and glanced to his sister, and then to Sora.

"But the others…" Hikari gave him a small reassuring smile.

"If we get Agumon back, then we're one step closer," she said. The graze on her cheek had lessened from blazing red to a mild pink, but Taichi's eyes flicked to it all the same.

"One is better than none, Taichi," Sora added. His expression tightened, and when his gaze fell away Miyako noticed Sora and Hikari share a silent exchange. At last Taichi looked up, his dark eyes burning with determination.

"Here's what we're going to do…"