Holy War

by Griff4823

The sequel to "A Dragon in Shining Armour". The Royal Knights secured victory, and peace set over the continent, but it isn't to last. The autocratic Metal Empire, a team of amoral mercenaries, and a mysterious Digimon in the shadows; it's up to the Order of the Royal Knights to intervene. Can they stop things from spiralling out of control, all while dealing with their own issues?

43. Chapter 31 Part 2: A Crisis of Faith

(Author's Notes: Here's part two of Chapter 31. I'll post Part 3 in a couple weeks to finish out this chapter.

Thanks for the detailed reviews. I love reading those. And thanks to everybody for the 200 reviews! I hope to be able to read more and hear everybody's feedback and whether there's anything I should change or keep doing. Thanks for the support and reading my stories. Also a big shout out to all my Finnish readers, who are consistently in second for the number of hits and views. Now, enjoy this chapter!)

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Chapter 31: A Crisis of Faith (Part II)

An orange glow cast across a dark tavern. Flames danced and flickered on the wicks of candles that were set up across the bar counter and a couple empty tables. The dull flames cast trembling shadows across the walls of the bar, keeping the darkness at bay.

It was night in the Sky Colonies, and long past closing time for the bar. It wasn't the sort of bar where Digimon came to get drunk. The Virtues, the scholars and moral enforcers of the Heavenly Choir, looked down on the use of alcohol, calling it a substance that numbed and distorted the mind. They said it caused Digimon to turn away from their disciplined teachings and towards a life of debauchery, excess, and lust. Only small portions of wine were allowed at celebrations. Therefore, bars in the Sky Colonies tended to serve non-alcoholic drinks.

There were seven Digimon in the after-hours bar at the time. Standing behind the bar, was a tall, skinny Digimon who was clad in white, angelic robes from neck to toe. He had long, lanky arms that were nearly as long as his body, which were folded in a relaxed position on the bar counter. His right arm was covered by a long, conical sleeve that was wrapped in belts, fixing pages of paper to his arm. A white cape was wrapped around his collar and hung down across his back, with an interior containing thousands of different pages. The lower half of his face was covered by a mask, and his blond head was wrapped in blue cloth. Only a pair of aloof, crimson eyes, a few patches of blond hair, and some grey skin were visible. There was a third eye on his forehead that glowed dully as he watched the scene before him.

In the Baalmon's clawed hand was a tall mug of ale, smuggled in from the Digital World. He sold it at his bar only to a select few of trustworthy customers.

Sitting at one of the candle-lit tables was a Seraphimon, and an Ophanimon. However, they were not the Three Great Angels. They were high-ranking subordinates of the Three Great Angels. The Seraphimon was a high-ranking commander of the Powers, and the Ophanimon was in a high-ranking position in the Virtues.

Sitting behind them in a wide, open space in the bar was a giant, pink dragon. His long, serpentine body was coiled up so as to save space. Covering his body was a carpet of soft, pink fur, and his pairs of sturdy arms and legs rested on the stone floor of the bar. His horned draconic face rested on one of his coils and his sharp, green eyes gazed over to the center of the room from the side of the bar. The Holydramon's head was surrounded by a mane of fluffy feathers, giving him a regal appearance. Matching these were five pairs of wings that extended from his back. Holydramon, like the Seraphimon, was one of the commanders of the Powers.

Over at another table sat two more figures. One was an angel Digimon garbed in the finest white vestments. A giant pair of wings rested on his back, the silky, ivory feathers matching the feathered robes that hung from his shoulders. Around his waist was a large, metal belt with the symbol of peace etched onto it. His face was fair and long, blond hair hung from his back, down to his waist. Concealing the upper half of his face was a milky, conical mitre, which was flanked on the sides with two small wing designs and covered only his forehead. The HolyAngemon: Priest Mode listened quietly, softly tapping his gloved hand on the table top. HolyAngemon: Priest Mode was the treasurer of the Dominions.

Lastly was a short humanoid Digimon with the appearance of a bird man. A pair of red feathered, avian legs hung over the edge of his chair, his yellow talons brushing the floor. His upper body was covered in white plumage, matching the white robe covering his shoulders and back. He had a deep tan tint to his skin as well as scruffy, shaggy brown hair that didn't match up to the pristine standards of many Heavenly Choir Digimon. Over his eyes was a metal visor which connected to a red helmet with cat ears that covered his head. He lazily leaned forwards on the table, putting some of his weight on his feathery arms. He listened idly with half-attentiveness at what was being said to them. He was one of the Virtues charged with protecting the Being of Goodness.

"And these fallacious opinions and unjust laws reveal to me the sheer folly of God…" a voice quoted to the six Digimon who listened.

At the center of everyone's attention was Lucemon, who stood on one of the chairs. He read from a large, opened scroll with passion gracing his calm, charismatic voice. There was a serious expression on his face as he read from Angemon's journal in a secret gathering of close, like-minded associates.

Lucemon lowered the scroll and looked around at the six other Digimon. "There is truth in Angemon's words. We are being misled by the Three Great Angels' interpretations of the Being of Goodness. They started the Exodus to the Sky Colonies, yes. However, they weren't appointed to their positions by anybody but themselves. Why should we accept their judgment subserviently? Why should we keep to ourselves, far removed from the Digital World? Why should we listen to three incompetent Digimon who only have their own interests at heart? Why should we be forced to speak like this in secret, when all we are doing is simply debating and questioning what we are told?"

HolyAngemon: Priest Mode nodded softly and lowered his chin onto his clasped hands. "You make valid points, Lucemon. We could be doing so much more if it weren't for the Three Great Angels and their holier-than-thou morals. We should be trading with the different regions of the Digital World, but they only allow for minimal trade with the Digital World based on necessity such as agricultural products, food, fabrics, medicines and building materials… and most of those trades are brokered by our own supporters and sympathisers who live on the Digital World! Our economy is small at best. We aren't even allowed a central bank because loans with interest are deemed immoral, and price hiking is restricted for businesses here as well. They won't listen to what I have to say because my ideas of making money apparently 'go against the spirit of community and cooperation that the Heavenly Choir was built on'. According to the Three Great Angels and the Virtues, making money for its own sake is sinful," the treasurer said with an acerbic edge to his voice. "It is utterly ridiculous."

The nearby commander nodded. "They are foolish and naïve," the Seraphimon declared, a note of anger beneath his words. "We have a highly disciplined army that goes to waste. We could be waging a war on the followers of Yggdrasil, yet we hide away, far up in the clouds like outcasts. The Three Angels say that we are a peaceful group and that the Powers are only for policing and self-defence. It's wasteful, naïve and short-sighted. Even now, we should be attacking the Republic of Node, the ones who Angemon sold our secrets to. Then we could show the Digital World that we are to be taken seriously. We could spread our influence properly onto the Digital World; the intention was always to return there, after all. We need to take back what is rightfully ours. Seraphimon, Ophanimon, and Cherubimon are too weak-spirited to ever consider that possibility, however…"

"Hmph… Indeed…" Lucemon said, getting down off from the chair and sitting down at the table. "Why should they be the ones in charge when they are so incompetent? I could surely do a better job at leading the Sky Colonies than them."

"It is a shame… Our society is so rigid and stuck up," the Ophanimon of the Virtues spoke with nonchalant disdain. "The constant, repetitive teaching of morality, self-discipline, and decency to the point of nausea… According to them, there should be absolutely no alcohol, no sex, no fun, apart from in the context of the sacred traditions. The most fun around here are the plays and poetry debates, and those are about as exciting as cloud-watching. Is that not the saddest thing you have ever heard?" The Ophanimon rose a glass of smuggled wine to her lips and took a drink. She sighed after a polite sip and sat back in her chair."Honestly… The rules and moral policing here is absolutely stifling. I can't walk in the Hallowed Sanctorum without a disapproving glance or a sanctimonious whisper… By the light, I doubt that Seraphimon's loins could even be aroused by Lady Ophanimon crawling on top of him naked at this point. …Hah – as if she even takes her unsullied, modest drabs off at all. She wouldn't spoil herself even by having a bath. Really, I bet even the rabbit is chaste… and that is saying something."

Holydramon lifted his head from his coil and squinted his piercing, green eyes, a soft scowl on his bestial lips. "The Three Great Angels… They're so full of themselves... Their egos are inflated by their hoards of loyal, empty-headed followers, lapping at their heels like a bunch of lost Plotmon. They think they're so great because they supposedly communicate with God. A dubious claim at best… Who the hell made them in charge? They really think they can just dictate to us without a single word of doubt?" he growled, his snarl brimming with resentment. "I get passed over for a promotion in the Powers and they expect me to know my place and simply accept it? I think not… They're a bunch of sanctimonious, imperious balls of empty fluff. I could do a better job than they could. Hell, a drunken Numemon could do a better job."

"Heh, you are about on the same level as a drunken Numemon…" Baalmon mused, mockingly, from behind the bar.

Holydramon lifted his head and shot Baalmon a dangerous glare. "What'd you say, three-eyes?" he growled.

Baalmon smirked behind his mask, not intimidated by Holydramon. "Nothin', fluffy," he teased the large, pink dragon.

"I don't want to hear any clever jibes from you, reaper," Holydramon hissed, leveling a sour stare across the bar. "Not only were you offered my rightful position of Commander in the Powers, but you turned it down… and for what?"

"It is a shame; you were being considered as the next commander of the Empyreal Host special forces," Seraphimon added, glancing over at Baalmon. At this revelation, Holydramon stifled an annoyed growl.

"Why the hell would I want to be a commander in the Powers or any of that?" Baalmon retorted with a nonchalant shrug of his covered shoulders. He nodded over at Ophanimon before looking back at Holydramon. "Like the lady said, there's already enough rules in this damn place. Know how many damn responsibilities you have to have if you want to be a commander in the Powers? Just ask Seraphimon there." Baalmon gestured to the Seraphimon and lowered his mask to take a drink from his beer. "The paperwork, the drills, the rules of conduct, the leading by example – moral and spiritual leadership and all that crap… Why not just put a leash on me and be done with it? If you want that job so bad, fluffy, me and Seraphimon here will put in a recommendation to SlashAngemon, because I sure as hell don't want it. Why tie myself down with needless responsibility and bureaucracy when I can enjoy the relative freedom of owning my own bar?"

"Such freedom that you are required to smuggle in liquor purchased from the black market," Lucemon sarcastically responded.

"Hence the reason I'm hosting all of you in my bar for our little seditious meetings. You're welcome, by the way," Baalmon pointed out with a mischievous grin. "All I need is good food, good drinks, attractive customers, some excitement, and less of the damn rules. Don't see much of any of those around here in the Sky Colonies though." The reaper Digimon leaned forwards on the bar counter, glancing at Silphymon. "And what do you think, Silphymon? You've been quiet. Did you lose your tongue or something?" he wondered with a glimmer of levity in his eyes.

Silphymon shrugged lazily. "All of the rules are a pain in the ass… Why make me protect God when He may not even be there or serve our best interests? It's a waste of my time…" he groggily said. "Better off without all this… The Three Great Angels anger me…"

"Gee, that's scathing, coming from you," Baalmon said with a chuckle before turning to Lucemon. "Sure I can't tempt you with a beer, Lucemon?"

"Do you honestly think that I would drink that stuff?" Lucemon asked with a dismissive leer. "For all the unjust laws, this is one that I agree with. That liquid corrodes intelligence and clouds the mind. We need to have our wits about us right now. We shouldn't even be meeting here like this. All it takes is one minor screw up for us to be discovered and arrested for conspiracy and heresy."

Baalmon laughed. "Hey, hey! What's this about conspiracy? I don't see any conspiracies, do you? Hey, I thought that we were just a book club!" he joked, gesturing to several books on the tables. "Besides, we're not actually planning anything yet…" There was an excited, devilish gleam in his three red eyes as he prepared the question that was on everyone's minds. "…Are we?"

"We are simply discussing the gaping flaws of the Heavenly Choir and the folly and injustice that the so-called Being of Goodness commands upon the Digimon that he created," Lucemon calmly responded, each word methodical and pointed. "Anything beyond that… is too hasty at this stage. Before we could even consider taking action, we would require… supporters. Many supporters."

"We will not find much support among the Virtues," the Ophanimon informed them, idly trailing her finger around the rim of her glass. "Given how devoted everyone in the Virtues is supposed to be. Their loyalty is stronger than the oldest of mountains."

"Except for your good self, of course," HolyAngemon: Priest Mode sarcastically pointed out.

"Besides, I am sure that you can find other male Digimon to sway to our thinking…" Holydramon added with a goading smirk.

"Naturally, if I so desired… I am charismatic and beautiful," Ophanimon dryly responded, looking at Holydramon with a soft, rivalrous grin. "Unlike you, Holydramon. You couldn't convince an Aquilamon to fly or a Whamon to swim."

Holydramon scoffed deeply. "I have friends who I could discreetly talk to," the celestial dragon explained.

"You have friends?" Ophanimon chuckled incredulously. "You do surprise me."

"I have friends,' Holydramon defensively responded, glaring at her. "Ones that I don't have to seduce to get to like me," he pointedly added.

Ophanimon tapped her finger on the side of her glass and grinned confidently at Holydramon. "I'll have you know that I don't seduce; I charm. I have a social and vivacious personality that causes Digimon to naturally be drawn to me. People enjoy my company and want to be kind to me. So… about the complete opposite of yourself, Holydramon."

"I have friends, damn it!" Holydramon protested.

"I find that hard to believe," HolyAngemon: Priest Mode grunted.

Baalmon chuckled and finished off the rest of his beer. "Hey, he isn't that bad-looking, for a fluffy, pink dragon," he ribbed.

"The same can't be said for you," Holydramon grunted acerbically.

"Hey, maybe you'd be less grumpy if you were getting some. That's the real reason why we need to do this," Baalmon said with a mocking laugh.

"Shut up, all of you. We're getting off topic with your petty quibbling," Seraphimon scolded them irritably.

"Indeed," Lucemon said with silent irreverence for the others. "We must focus on swaying others to our way of thinking. We have clear evidence to prove our ideas, but it will not be an easy job. Deference, discipline, and faith are deeply engraved in every angel Digimon. We must be extremely careful about who we try to convince. Put out gentle, innocuous questions and gauge their responses. Our confidants must be trustworthy to us and pliable. If they betray us and our actions are revealed to the Three Great Angels, we will be hunted down and subjected to the same fate as Angemon."

Seraphimon nodded. "Holydramon and I will speak to some close colleagues and junior officers of ours in the Powers," he said to the others. "You all should too. Be smart about it."

"I will speak to some high-ranking friends of mine," Ophanimon responded, removing her fingers from her glass and leaning back in her seat. "I will be the soul of discretion. I am confident that I can persuade a few powerfully allies to our cause."

HolyAngemon released a hum and folded his arms. "I have some friends in the Dominions who share my grievances. I have faith in my ability to sway them and others…" he added with a grin.

Baalmon smirked. "I'll talk to a few customers I know personally and the guys who help smuggle the alcohol up here," he informed them.

Lucemon nodded softly. "I was thinking of speaking to Bagramon," he mused.

Seraphimon looked at Lucemon. "Is that wise, Lucemon?" he sceptically questioned. "Bagramon is one of the highest ranking angels. He is the Archangel of Death. He is surely one of most loyal to the Three Great Angels."

"He was the one who gave me this scroll to destroy, rather than have to do it himself," Lucemon noted. "I sensed doubt in him when I spoke to him."

"Be that as it may, 'doubt' is not the same thing as disbelief," HolyAngemon stated, looking over at Lucemon. "We cannot afford to deal with those who are merely having qualms of conscience. They could change their minds back on a whim and report us out of guilt for considering it. We can't allow ourselves to depend on those with divided loyalties."

Lucemon closed his eyes. "Hmph… Very well, Seraphimon… I shall refrain from including him for now," he spoke. He tucked the scroll under his arm. "We all know what we must do. We should break up this meeting now. Let's meet up again every two weeks to keep track of our progress."

"Sounds fine to me," Holydramon said with a grunt. The large dragon lifted his head and stood to his four feet.

"Try not to get seen while you leave my bar, fluffy," Baalmon said to him, standing up straight behind the counter. "You're a big, pink target pointing right here."

"Tch," Holydramon indignantly scoffed, beginning to make his way to the door.

The rest of the angels stood up as well, their session concluded.

"Be careful how you tread," Lucemon said to them. "One misstep and we could end up falling right off the edge of the Sky Colony."

"And remember to read up to Chapter 20 for our next meeting," Baalmon jokingly reminded them, tossing one of the books in the air and catching it.

One by one, the angels began slipping out into the night. They put space in between their exits so as to not draw attention. Lucemon was final one to leave the tavern.

As he stepped out into the night, he gazed up at the dark sky. He watched as a particularly bright star glimmered within the vortex of clouds that swirled overhead. Lucemon smiled to himself.

"So, the plan for reformation begins… I shall be its leader."

---

Five months passed…

The seven angel Digimon met once again in Baalmon's tavern in the dead of night. It was their tenth meeting since Lucemon first brought them Angemon's journal. Progress on their increasingly conspiratorial plans was being made with every passing day.

"Things are moving along incredibly nicely," Lucemon mused, a confident smile gracing his lips. "Through my efforts, everything is coming together as planned."

"Not just your efforts," Holydramon grumbled, his sharp green eyes piercing at Lucemon. "But, yes. Things are going smoothly."

Seraphimon pounded his fist into his open palm. "Holydramon and I have convinced many of our disaffected fellow officers in the Powers to side with us. Like us, they are tired of being cast aside in favour of the bureaucrats in the Dominions and the scripture readers in the Virtues. They want the Powers to have more sway and influence. They do not approve of the way those damn, God-pandering archangels are leading our society further into the clouds. They agree that we should be putting our military to good use. The Three "Great" Angels and their precious Being of Goodness won't even see us coming," he stated firmly.

"Indeed, they will get exactly what is coming to them…" Ophanimon hummed, a dark smirk growing on her face. "The Celestial Commander doesn't suspect discontent brewing within his ranks, does he, Seraphimon?"

Seraphimon scoffed with derision, as if the very thought was laughable to him. "Of course not. SlashAngemon is as oblivious as he always was. He has his head so far up his ass with his drills, routines, and bureaucracy," he spat, scorn and malice dripping off his every word.

Baalmon laughed, his sharp chortle laced with perverse recalcitrance. "Hey, I guess now we know where his head goes when he curls up to use his Heaven's Ripper attack," he noted with a nonchalant shrug, smirking widely behind his cloth mask.

HolyAngemon: Priest Mode sneered. "You may have some support within the Powers, Seraphimon, but I highly doubt that you will command a majority of it. The soldiers within the Powers are as loyal as dog Digimon. Some may follow their commanding officers, but many will not. At the very best, the Powers will be split down the middle between those who support us and those who support the Three Great Angels. We can also assume that the Empyreal Host Special Forces will be completely loyal to the Three Great Angels, as they are hand-picked and extremely loyal. When the time for rebellion comes…"

"We will crush whoever opposes us," Seraphimon declared, slamming his fist on the table.

"I do love it when you get passionate, Seraphimon," Ophanimon teased him with a grin.

"Oh, so do I," Baalmon joked, laughing as he sat on his bar counter. "It smells of sexual frustration and pent up rage. I bet you're wild in bed."

"Shut up, demon," Seraphimon snapped at him. "Focus, you damn layabout."

"When will the time for rebellion come?" Silphymon asked, making his annoyance clear. "I'm tired of waiting…"

"One month should give us the necessary time to prepare," HolyAngemon: Priest Mode explained, frowning and stroking his smooth chin. "However, any later than that is too much. With every week that passes, the risk of our plot being discovered grows. We need to strike the right balance."

Ophanimon nodded. "That makes sense… If we strike too soon, we risk going into it unprepared and recklessly, which is sure to end in failure. Timing will be everything."

"And what is the plan?" Baalmon asked.

"This is all hypothetical until we know exactly how many troops that we'll have at our disposal," HolyAngemon explained. "We will need to divide into different formations. Our priority will be to take key locations on the First Sphere and Second Sphere, but I anticipate that most of the fighting will take place on the Second Sphere and within the Golden City on the Third Sphere. The loyalists will likely outnumber us, so we will have to fight intelligently. We will have to rely on urban warfare, surprise attacks, and guerilla tactics to whittle down their numbers until we can fight them on an even level. We will need to use whatever methods we can in order to win, no matter how reprehensible they might seem. I personally have no qualms about it, but some of our followers may need to be emotionally prepared for such actions."

"If their conviction to our cause is true, they will do what needs to be done," Lucemon responded matter-of-factly. "We will do whatever we have to in order to overthrow these ridiculous, unjust rulers, for our cause is pure… Only I can reform the Heavenly Choir to the way it should be."

"Only we can," Holydramon corrected irritably.

"Go on, HolyAngemon," Ophanimon said to him, folding her arms. "We need the details. I want to hear what exactly our objectives will be."

"Yes, I'm getting there," he responded snappily. "Our main objectives will be to take control of the First Sphere. Particularly the Palace, the Supernal Sanctum and the Eternal Chapel. On the Second Sphere, we will need to take control of the Hall of Dominion, the Hall of Valiance, and, most importantly, the Treasury. The Third Sphere and the lesser colonies of Empyrea and Sanctea are not strategically important, apart from the cloud docks; those docks will need to be secured. They will serve as important battlefields in the early days of the Rebellion, however."

"Days? How long will it take?" Silphymon asked with a groan.

"It could take as long as a week. Maybe more," HolyAngemon responded.

"Ugh… Too long… Why can't we just finish it in a few hours?" the avian Digimon questioned.

"Because those would be bad tactics for this situation, Silphymon," HolyAngemon explained, his voice dry and barely able to contain his mockery.

"Use your head, bird brain," Baalmon chimed in.

"What about the Three Great Angels?" Holydramon asked. "If they step in, it might be better to act quickly. They might be colossal assholes, but they are all strong. The same goes for Bagramon and SlashAngemon, as well."

"We can't be hasty and reckless. We will likely have to face them, yes, but they will probably depend on the Powers at first. We will need to wear them down before we take them on," HolyAngemon insisted.

Baalmon smirked, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "So, I'll get to have a shot at the Three Great Angels?" he asked, a dark chuckle in his voice. "Can't wait to blow those condescending pricks straight off of the Sky Colonies…"

"It seems like a waste, but they brought it upon themselves if they're going to be so damn obstinate and stringent," Ophanimon mused with a blasé sigh. "Oh well, we must do what we have to. I wouldn't mind wiping the condescending smiles off their faces."

"They deserve everything they are getting," Seraphimon said with a soft growl, tightening his fist enough for his knuckles to blanch.

Lucemon narrowed his sharp, blue eyes. "Yes… They need to be removed along with their heretical message in order for the Heavenly Choir to be saved…"

Suddenly, the sound of snapping wood cracked through the dark tavern like a whip.

All seven of the angels stood to their feet with alarm. The front door of the tavern split apart into several fragments of wood, collapsing violently.

Standing in the gateway to the outside was an angel Digimon who came storming inside. He was tall and well-built, with a terrifying silhouette. The tavern's candle flames glimmered off the silver breastplate that covered his upper body. Jagged, metal wings, made of the sharpest blades protruded from his back. His forearms were covered by a pair of massive, curved swords that were almost as long as his body. Even the boots that he wore were bladed. He had the appearance of a fearsome angel of retribution.

He stormed into the tavern, the emblazoned, sky blue sash around his waist waving with every forceful step. The only part of his face that could be seen were his fair cheeks and the firm, professional frown that graced his rigid lips. The rest of his face was covered by a silver helmet that covered the front of his head. A blade protruded upwards from the forehead, and his sky blue hair blew softly in the draft that blew in from the outside.

Seraphimon rose to his feet and clenched his fists. "Celestial Commander SlashAngemon, Sir!" he forced himself to say, his voice harsh and incredulous. "What are you doing here?!"

"I would ask you the same question, Commander, but I already know the answer," SlashAngemon explained bitterly.

"I'm afraid we are at a loss, SlashAngemon," Lucemon responded, his initial surprise fading into calm condescension. He gestured to the books on the tables they were sitting at. "We are simply a book club meeting for our biweekly discussion. We have permission to meet like this. I have filled out the necessary forms and they were confirmed by the Dominions."

"I know all about the kind of 'literature' that you read here, Lucemon," SlashAngemon snapped. "Don't insult my intelligence with more lies."

Lucemon's facial features darkened as he bowed his head. Seraphimon, Baalmon, and Holydramon's muscles subtly tensed as they glared at SlashAngemon and they exchanged brief looks.

Sensing threatening movement, SlashAngemon raised his blade arm towards them. "Don't move a muscle. The Powers have this bar surrounded," he explained. SlashAngemon glanced over his shoulder. "Move in, troops!"

It was not a moment after he finished speaking that angel, faerie, and some avian Digimon flooded into the bar, standing at SlashAngemon's side with weapons drawn. Among them were HolyAngemon, HippoGriffomon, Angewomon, Seraphimon, Ophanimon, Shakkoumon, Piccolomon, and MarineAngemon species. At this happened, a team of Empyreal Host Special Forces burst through the back door and poured into the back of the tavern. The elite team of Perfect and Ultimate level Digimon surrounded the conspirators from the back, preventing any escape. From the distant sounds of wing beats and footsteps, it was clear that there were more outside.

They weren't the only ones there. Bagramon pushed through the crowd with his sword drawn, walking to the front of the platoon.

The angel of death stepped up beside SlashAngemon. His gaze was firm on the exterior, his red eyes cold as they looked across the seven. However, his eyes fell on Lucemon, who looked back at him with determined blue irises. Bagramon could see the purpose and resolve in his eyes.

The seven rebelling angels glared at SlashAngemon, who stood before them unwaveringly. Their postures were rigid and their bodies exuded antipathy.

SlashAngemon didn't lower his blade for a moment. He stared at them, cold steel piercing from his hidden eyes.

"In the name of God's holy justice, I hereby place you all under arrest," SlashAngemon firmly stated, his words as sharp as blades. "The crimes committed against the goodness of God, His devoted followers, and the paradise that they inhabit includes the following: heresy against the Being of Goodness, in the form of doubting and insulting His existence and intentions, as well as those of the Three Great Angels. Conspiracy, in the form of secret meetings which take place under the guise of a literature club, where you seven have been spreading the seeds of dissent and plotting against us. Treason, in the form of plotting to overthrow the Three Great Angels and the established order of the Heavenly Choir. The smuggling, consumption and sale of unlicensed, illegal substances, in the form of alcohol. And, finally, the breaking of public curfew, in the form of staying out past midnight without expressed permission."

SlashAngemon frowned and took a step closer, pushing one of the bar chairs aside with a blade. "You all have the right to a fair trial in the Hall of Truth, where the truth must be heard before the highest ranking Digimon of every order. After which point, an impartial judgment will be made and you will await your punishment in the Halls of Justice. Until then, you will be placed in confinement. Is that understood?" he clarified as per procedure.

"Damn it…" Ophanimon murmured, a menacing scowl forming on her face.

"Damn you, SlashAngemon…" Seraphimon growled, seething with barely-contained rage and enmity.

"How did you find out?" Silphymon demanded, an annoyed glower on his face.

"One of your supporters reported you to us," SlashAngemon explained. He turned his head and looked across the tavern. "Do not resist."

Bagramon nodded softly. "I would advise that you submit peacefully…" he suggested, his voice calm and level.

"Hmph… Very well…" Lucemon responded, closing his eyes and raising his hands. "I am the one who has justice and reason on my side, so I have nothing to fear."

The rest of the conspiratorial angel Digimon reluctantly conceded as well, their postures slackening somewhat. They knew that fighting under these conditions would be disadvantageous.

"Move in and place them under a firm guard," SlashAngemon ordered to his troops, who began to move into the tavern to apprehend the rebels. He stared at Lucemon and the other angels. "You can say your peace in your trials."

Lucemon's eyes narrowed slightly as he was grabbed and apprehended. "…I plan to," he assured him.

Bagramon watched with silent eyes as the seven were arrested. For some reason, the feelings of doubt that he had managed to cast aside began to return. He almost felt a slight sympathy for the lawbreakers.

Bagramon closed his eyes and stepped out of the tavern and into the night to clear his head. The thoughts that lingered in his mind were cast aside. He couldn't afford to have feelings on the matter. For he would be one of the seven judges to oversee their trial.

He watched as the dissident angels were led out of the tavern and onto one of the grey boulevards of the Golden City. His red eyes lingered on them as they were ushered up the lane and off towards the Halls of Justice on the Second Sphere.

Bagramon frowned gently as the niggling inside of him continued. "This is justice, isn't it…?"

---

Exactly ten days later, the trials took place.

Each of the accused conspirators was given an opportunity to make their cases to either justify or refute their actions. They were expected to represent themselves to a panel of judges, who would judge their innocence or guilt. Given that this was a massive case of treason and heresy, committed by some extremely respected and high-ranked angel Digimon, the panel of judges consisted of the highest ranked angels. This included the Three Great Angels of Seraphimon, Ophanimon, and Cherubimon, but also Dominimon, ClavisAngemon, SlashAngemon, and Bagramon.

Due to the deferential, order-focused nature of angel Digimon, once the arrest was made, the defendant usually confessed to their crimes. It was rare that there was a lengthy trial where the defendant refuted the evidence. However, for the sake of balance and justice, the judges were to meticulously go through the merits of whether or not a crime had been committed. They would not allow justice to be delivered wantonly.

The group of seven judges sat behind a long bench of grey marble at the front of the room. The whole interior of the Court of Truth was made of austere, grey marble. The courtroom was not ornamental apart from the rows of columns on each side of the large, expansive area, existing merely for structural support. The austerity of the Court of Truth showed the respect that the Heavenly Choir had for the law.

The judges' faced the gallery, which was made up of dozens of marble pews. In between the gallery and the bench was an open area, with a raised dais in the middle. At the apex of this dais was a lectern that faced the judges, who looked down at it from the raised bench. Standing behind the lectern was Lucemon, who stood on a stool in order to be seen behind the raised surface. This was the final trial of the day.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Dominimon asked.

Dominimon was the leader of the Dominions, the administrative branch of the Heavenly Choir. Similar in appearance to a HolyAngemon, he was an archangel Digimon with four pairs of feathery, golden wings. He was garbed in majestic armour for the occasion, with silver and golden breastplate covering his upper body. His arms were protected by massive shoulder guards, azure in colour, their rims gold and etched with Digimoji, and their convex faces emblazoned with golden, cruciform stars. He wore white garments over his legs and a beige sash that was wrapped around his waist. His face – half-covered by blue helmet - was pensive and stern as he gazed at Lucemon.

"How could such a respected Digimon have fallen so far?" ClavisAngemon questioned. "How hath a heart as pure as yours corroded so wickedly?"

ClavisAngemon was the leader of the Virtues, and acted as one of the moral leaders of the Heavenly Choir, as well as the guardian of the Kernel, the place where God was believed to reside. His body was clad in splendorous white armour, pristine, stainless and trimmed with gold embellishments. At the center of his breastplate was a keyhole, which symbolised his role as the key holder of God. Under his white armour was crimson under-armour that matched his bright, red sash and the striking lining of the helmet that covered the top of his head. His wings, which rested against the back of his seat, were more ostentatious than most of the others', consisting of spiralling bases and long, individual feathers.

Bagramon stared at Lucemon silently, his eyes not diverting from his face for a moment. It was as if he was trying to read his mind and deduce what the angel wanted to say.

Cherubimon frowned with bitter regret and turned to Lucemon. "Please, Lucemon, you may speak. Help us understand how you got to this extreme point. Is it something that we are doing wrong?" he asked him. "Why have you not said anything?"

"Thou should not make excuses for him, Cherubimon," Seraphimon stated firmly. "There is no excuse for such a betrayal."

Cherubimon grimaced contentiously and turned to look at Seraphimon. "Then what is the point of having a trial at all, Seraphimon?" he rhetorically asked him. "Why are we here if not to try and understand?"

"We are here to pass judgment for heinous crimes committed against God and the Heavenly Choir," Seraphimon responded ardently.

"After hearing all of the facts and what the defendant has to say," Cherubimon argued passionately. "There is more to this trial than mere punishment."

"Please, you two. We will be able to do neither if you do not let Lucemon speak," Ophanimon insisted firmly, looking between the two Digimon flanking her. She cast them both a stare that told them to be silent.

"Very well, the accused may begin his defence," Seraphimon spoke, his voice firm and reverberating as he stared unflinchingly down at Lucemon.

Lucemon smirked and looked up confidently, not an ounce of fear or doubt in his blue eyes. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity…" he calmly said to the judges.

The young angel cleared his throat before beginning, standing at ease behind the lectern. "You have put me here to deliver upon me justice for what you claim to be crimes. However, you are the unjust ones here, for none of the things that I have done are crimes."

Bagramon frowned and raised an eyebrow at Lucemon's confidence and audacity. He never would have expected that the quiet bookworm would have the boldness to say such things to the Three Great Angels. He could tell that there was not a sliver of doubt in Lucemon's mind. Had he ever doubted himself like Bagramon was doing now? How did he come to see things so clearly? Had he gone mad like the Angemon? Or was his purpose so clear to him that he could say these things without a trace of uncertainty?

"What…?" Bagramon heard Seraphimon mutter incredulously.

"Would you care to elaborate?" Ophanimon suggested, her voice calm and unemotional.

"Yes…" Lucemon responded, entirely composed. "All that I have done is point out the poor decisions and the hypocrisy in the way that the Three Great Angels govern. You say that you are carrying out God's orders. We are expected to believe that you three communicate directly with God. That certainly is a convenient excuse for you three to remain in charge."

"It is no excuse," Seraphimon boomed passionately. "To suggest that we are so power-hungry and conceited to lie simply so that we may reign over the Sky Colonies is an insult and a flagrant lie. We three chosen have been chosen to execute God's wishes. We are the loyal servants of the Being of Goodness and we do, indeed, communicate on a personal level with the Being of Goodness."

"Prove it," Lucemon responded, a victorious smirk on his face despite his situation. "Prove that you communicate with God."

"We need not prove ourselves to you, Lucemon," Seraphimon responded irately. "We are not the ones on trial here."

"So, you cannot," Lucemon answered with a soft grin.

"We cannot prove something so spiritual – so intangible – with physical evidence," Cherubimon calmly responded. "However, simply because something is intangible that does not mean that it is not true. That is precisely why faith is important. Our followers trust us, and we would never betray their trust. We do communicate with the Being of Goodness. That is something that everybody believes – something that you once believed, Lucemon."

Lucemon closed his eyes. "It is not God's existence that I doubt, but the actions of him and you. You impose imperious rules on society. You deny us freedom to speak our minds and act to our hearts content. You drive us away from our brothers on the Digital World and into the clouds, away from reality. We have built a rigid society exclusively for ourselves and the Religion of Light. What about our brothers and sisters back on the Digital World, who have yet to see the light of truth. Are we to abandon them?"

"We have not abandoned them; they do not believe what we believe. They believe in Yggdrasil and Huanglongmon. When we lived on the Digital World, they disparaged and discriminated against us; that was the reason why the Exodus began. Furthermore, it is not our responsibility to force our beliefs onto those who wish not to believe," Seraphimon responded firmly. "We have built a new home for ourselves here. We will return one day."

"I doubt that. What we should do is make them see that their ways are ridiculous. We should force them to see the truth," Lucemon insisted. "We have abandoned them to a world of injustice and strife. We are selflessly ignoring them for our own benefit."

Bagramon's frown softened as he listened intently to Lucemon's words. His feelings of uncertainty began to blossom. The things that Lucemon was saying struck a dusty chord inside of him. Bagramon did feel that they have abandoned the Digital World. With every year that passed, he began to doubt that they would ever return like they had intended to when they first made the Exodus. The end result of the Exodus was always to return to the Digital World and to spread their beliefs and teachings in order to make the Digital World a better place.

"That is nonsense, Lucemon," Ophanimon responded. "We have never abandoned the place that we originated from. The Being of Goodness created the Digital World, so we have never lost our respect for it. We still trade with different groups from the Digital World as well as recruit followers, but they are not yet ready to accept us back."

"It should be up to us, not them," Lucemon answered plainly, unsatisfied with the answer. "Leaving that aside, what about the way you govern over the Heavenly Choir?"

"What do you mean?" Seraphimon asked, his fists clenched firmly on top of the long table they were seated behind.

Lucemon looked up at them standoffishly, refusing to waver. "We are stifled by your oppression. We are told what we can and cannot do, what we can and cannot think… All of these rigid rules and bureaucracy are in place to control us."

"The bureaucracy keeps our society efficient, organised, and well-managed," Dominimon contended. "Would you prefer chaos and disorder?"

"The rules and laws are in place to keep our hearts and minds pure," ClavisAngemon added. "How would alcohol make our society better? By creating alcoholics and drunkards who commit sins? Are we to remove the rules banning malicious slander, extortion of innocent Digimon, thievery, or murder? Would you like the Golden City to turn into a hive of intemperance, depravity and debauchery? Rules exist for a reason, Lucemon."

"Some rules are mandatory. Others are not. We are not even permitted to question holy decrees or our own beliefs. This society is so disciplined that we are not allowed to look inwards and question the things that we practice. If we cannot question our own beliefs, then how can we expect to change them for the better? How can we have independent thought? How can we rise to the top as individuals?" Lucemon debated avidly.

"Our society is not about individuals. It is about the community," SlashAngemon responded. "We support each other. Each level of society reinforces the other. From the Three Great Angels down to the merchants. We are a community first, individuals second. That is how our society functions so well. As soon as the "we" turns into "I"… well, that is how Digimon like you emerge…" the Commander of the Powers bitterly said.

"Individuality begets selfishness, selfishness begets pride, pride begets contempt, contempt begets cruelty," ClavisAngemon spoke is a soft, sage-like tone.

"And so everybody follows your every word like dogs, without looking out for their own interests," Lucemon responded, shaking his head. "And when they do, they are punished, sometimes by death. Nobody can say a word against God without being branded as a heretic. Digimon have doubts about the way God operates, but rather than listening to them, you punish them. Where is the justice in that? …Are these God's wishes? If these are God's orders, then is he really worth following? What if God orders us to do something truly despicable to other Digimon? When do we draw the line?" the angel asked, looking over at his fellow Heavenly Choir Digimon in the pews.

Bagramon narrowed his eyes and quietly gritted his teeth. These words… These thoughts… they had been nipping at the back of Bagramon's mind for years. He was the one who carried out the punishment of heretics, so he had first-hand knowledge of what it meant to deliver justice. However, not every case was so clear. His conscience was not clear. Carrying out God's justice… it did not feel the same as what he felt that justice truly was. Bagramon was not swayed by Lucemon's charisma words; his mind was already thinking these things for himself. Lucemon was merely putting Bagramon's thoughts into words, unfiltered through a voice that was not clouded by doubt.

"Justice…" he thought, closing his eyes and thinking heavily to himself.

"The Being of Goodness would never order us to do such a thing," Ophanimon insisted. "He is a benevolent being. He created the Digital World and Digimon itself."

"Yet He allows such catastrophe and strife to occur in the Digital World that he created," Bagramon thought to himself darkly. "Wars, calamities, abominations who wreak destruction… How can he allow such evil in the Digital World? Such unreasonable justice of the world…? Where is God's justice then?"

"The unreasonable punishments that you speak of, Lucemon, are not directed at good, honest Digimon. They are only directed at dangerous heretics who plot to overthrow us and discredit the foundations that the Sky Colonies are built upon," Seraphimon responded pointedly. "That is why you stand before us."

"Dangerous heretics…" Lucemon mused with a smug smirk on his face. "What are we if not dangerous heretics? The Religion of Light was originally part of the Yggdrasil belief. That is, until you all changed your beliefs and created a system anew. How is that any different from what I am doing?"

Bagramon lowered his head, bowed in thought. "He has a point. This is a bit hypocritical when the Religion of Light itself is divergent…" he quietly deliberated.

"The difference between us is that we did not call for the destruction and the overthrow of the established society," Cherubimon sarcastically responded. "We broke away peacefully, whereas you conspired to overthrow us by force." Cherubimon sighed and his beady, black eyes softened into a sad look. "How did you change so much, Lucemon? You were such a good Digimon… How did you come to despise us so?"

"I have merely opened my eyes. Any intelligent Digimon would do the same," the young angel dismissively answered.

"Enough of this," Seraphimon's voice fervently reverberated. "All we are doing is giving Lucemon a platform from which to spew his rebellious, heretical nonsense. He wanted a stage from which to perform and we are giving it to him. Let us get to the actual proceedings."

"I agree," Dominimon spoke. "This has become less of a trial and more of a public debate."

"I suppose we should move on," Ophanimon said in agreement, sighing gently.

Cherubimon winced but nodded. "Very well…"

Seraphimon sighed and relaxed his fists on the judges' bench. He stared at Lucemon with a commanding gaze. "Lucemon… You know the charges before you. Heresy, treason, and conspiracy to overthrow us. Do you deny them in the Court of Truth?" he asked him, his voice softer than its previous firmness.

"No, I don't deny them," Lucemon answered boldly. Surprised whispers echoed throughout the courtroom.

"You don't?" ClavisAngemon asked him.

Lucemon smiled at them with a soft but confident grin. "No. I embrace the charges before me. Yes, I dare to question God. Yes, I conspired to overthrow you. I am not so weak as to cowardly deny my own actions," he audaciously explained, still smiling impudently. "In fact, I have many followers who agree with me and who are willing to support me. This conspiracy goes deeper than just the seven of us… What will you do? Will you arrest us all?"

"Such arrogance…" Seraphimon calmly but bitterly observed.

"So, you admit to being guilty?" Ophanimon asked him, frowning.

"Yes, I do," Lucemon casually responded. "Guilty of speaking against an unjust system."

"He is unrepentant…" SlashAngemon mused, shooting daggers at Lucemon. He looked at the other archangel Digimon. "Shall we each make our judgments? If he claims to be guilty, then there is not much point to continuing this trial. We have studied the evidence before us in great detail in the proceedings. Things are fairly clear."

"I suppose that would be the best course of action…" Cherubimon murmured with a lingering whisper of regret.

"Very well…" Seraphimon spoke, looking down at Lucemon from his place behind the bench. "I, Seraphimon, the executor of God's laws, find you guilty."

Ophanimon calmly gazed at Lucemon as well. "I, Ophanimon, the conferrer of God's love and mercy, find you guilty," she was the next to say.

Cherubimon sighed. "I, Cherubimon, the guardian of God's wisdom, find you guilty," he disappointedly declared.

"I, SlashAngemon, the Celestial Commander of the Powers, find you guilty," SlashAngemon sternly judged.

"I, Dominimon, the Celestial Commander of the Dominions, find you guilty," Dominimon determined calmly and even-handedly.

"I, ClavisAngemon, the Celestial Commander of the Virtues, find you guilty," ClavisAngemon said with a sigh.

Finally, it was Bagramon's turn. He opened his eyes and stared at Lucemon, who gazed right back at him.

Bagramon quietly mulled over the situation that he was in. He was surprised to find himself conflicted, a situation that he rarely ever found himself in when passing judgment. He agreed with Lucemon about the injustices that he perceived. However, could he stand up for Lucemon when he had so flagrantly admitted to treason and heresy? Could he put himself in a dissenting position? He was already outnumbered, so was there any point in protesting out of principle? He didn't have a leg to stand on, so he made a decision out of pragmatism.

"I, Bagramon, the guardian of death, find you guilty."

Lucemon smiled and bowed his head with calm resignation, unafraid of his fate.

"The decision is unanimous," Seraphimon declared. "Lucemon, as the sword of God's justice, I sentence you to deletion for the crimes that you have committed."

"Death?!" Cherubimon protested, his rabbit-like head jerking towards the smaller angel. "Seraphimon that is too far!"

"He plots our downfall, Cherubimon," Seraphimon insisted, looking back at him with a restrained but quietly passionate gaze. "We gave the same sentence to Angemon for the same crimes. Do not waver just because he was once our friend. If we give him a meter of rope, he will use it to strangle us."

"There is still a chance that he could repent," Ophanimon offered.

"That is unlikely and we all know it. Lucemon is dangerous. He is unrepentant and if we let him go freely, he will continue to spread his lies and seeds of dissent. He will continue to plot our demise and it is clear that he is determined enough to see it through to the end. I am afraid that the sentence will have to stand," Seraphimon insisted.

Cherubimon's pudgy face tightened with frustration, but found that he could not speak out against his argument.

Bagramon quietly narrowed his eyes in response to the sentence. "And he expects me to carry out this injustice…" Bagramon pondered, glancing over at Seraphimon. "How can I…? How can I do that when I don't believe in his judgment?"

Bagramon turned his angry, narrow eyes away from Seraphimon and towards Lucemon. Lucemon was merely looking at Seraphimon with a challenging smirk.

Seraphimon stood to his feet unflinchingly. "Guards, please take Lucemon to the Halls of Justice. He will wait in prison until his punishment tomorrow," he commanded.

The black-haired angel watched as Ultimate-level Digimon immediately came flying over from the side aisles to apprehend and guide Lucemon to the Halls of Justice with the others.

Bagramon closed his eyes as he heard Lucemon being shuffled off to prison. He folded his arms across his chest and thought long and hard.

After a minute of soul-searching, deliberating, and accepting his own emotions, he finally came to a decision.

"I know what I have to do…" Bagramon concluded, opening his eyes. The doubt and unease that graced Bagramon's crimson eyes was now erased. It had been replaced with a sharp stare of resolve.

He made a plan, and he had every intention of carrying out. Bagramon's mind was now clear and the misgivings that plagued his heart were now gone.

As the other angels stood up, Bagramon was the last to rise. He stood with determination and purpose.

Emotion burned behind his crimson eyes as he resolved to carry out his plan. "Just like with DarkKnightmon, the right path is sometimes the most painful one… You know what to do, Bagramon. Right the wrongs, and set this unjust world ablaze…"

---

The day turned to night in the Sky Colonies. Hushed murmurs crept through the darkness in response to the scandal of Lucemon's trial. Many were shocked that such a respected and outwardly unassuming angel such as Lucemon would do such terrible things. There were many who though that he deserved the sentence that he got. However, there were also those who were silently outraged by the result.

A schism was forming within the Heavenly Choir.

Bagramon walked through the Halls of Justice. His stride was focused and purposeful. Bagramon's eyes were fixed ahead of him, alight with determination.

As he walked down a long corridor, he passed by an open window. He briefly turned his head and glanced outside, brushing his ebony locks away from his face to better see. The night sky was starry, with clouds passing high overhead. He could see the underside of the First Sphere floating above them, as well as the lights of the Third Sphere far below. In the distance were the two full moons, glowing luminously and resting side-by-side in the distant night sky.

Bagramon strode down the long corridor towards the prison area of the Halls of Justice. He walked up to a large, sealed door and placed his hand against it. The door glowed with a single pulse and proceeded to open up for him, revealing a medium-sized room. It was the processing area for the prison. There was a large, locked door leading to the prison dungeons. There was not very much crime in the Heavenly Choir, so only a small prison was necessary to fit their needs.

Sitting behind the desk was a HolyAngemon. He was busy writing Digimoji on a scroll using a feathered quill. Upon feeling Bagramon's presence enter the room, he looked up and over at the archangel. "Oh, Commander Bagramon… I wasn't expecting you," he said, putting his quill down and standing to his feet, adjusting the violet mitre on his head as he rose.

"I apologise for coming unannounced. I wish to speak with the prisoner," Bagramon explained.

"With Lucemon?" HolyAngemon questioned, a bit surprised at the unusual request. He hadn't heard anything about this request from SlashAngemon. "On whose authority?"

Bagramon's eyes narrowed and he turned to the angelic overseer. "My own authority. I am the Guardian of Death, remember… I will be executing that Digimon tomorrow. I wish to speak with him," he commanded in a dominant voice, reminding HolyAngemon that he was Bagramon's subordinate and that he could not refuse him.

"O-Of course. I apologise, Sir. I will let you in right away," HolyAngemon quickly deferred, turning and walking towards the large, heavily-secured, chrome digizoid door on the opposite side of the room from Bagramon.

As HolyAngemon turned, Bagramon spied a giant ring dangling from his waist. There were dozens of keys hanging off the metal ring, jangling together with every step. As he reached the door, he unhooked the keys and began to unlock the door to the dungeons. "You will find him in Cell Number 6," HolyAngemon explained. "It's near the end of the corridor."

"Thank you," Bagramon said, walking over to the unsuspecting angel from behind. He quietly raised his sword. "And, I apologise."

"Apologise for wha-?!"

The HolyAngemon was cut off when the heavy hilt of Bagramon's sword swiftly and sharply impacted the back of his head. His face slammed into the chrome digizoid door and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Bagramon gazed down at the knocked out angel calmly. "For that sin," he responded, kneeling down and picking up the ring of keys. After the keys were in his possession, Bagramon hauled HolyAngemon out of the way of the door and tucked him safely behind his desk. With the angel removed, Bagramon opened the fortified door to the dungeons.

The thick, metal door opened with a deep, groaning creak, requiring a good amount of muscle strength to open fully. Bagramon pushed the door open with a strong shove and walked inside. The dungeons were not particularly dark, as there were small globes of white light hovering in place below the ceiling. They kept the dungeon well lit. Each of the cells were surrounded on all sides by chrome digizoid walls, with only a door with a small slit providing access to the cells.

Bagramon walked down the corridor towards Lucemon's cell. He knew that the other six rebelling angels were locked in here too, but he wanted to start with Lucemon.

He stopped in front of the door with the digi-letter for '6' on the front. Bagramon placed the key in the hole and opened the door. The interior of the cell glowed with rippling, white light. A force field of holy energy lined the metal walls of the cell. Bagramon quickly pressed a couple buttons on the panel beside the cell and deactivated the cell's barrier.

Inside the cell, Lucemon was sitting on a bed, reading a large book that was on his lap. The angel nonchalantly closed the book and rose to his feet, as if not at all surprised to see Bagramon at the door of his cell.

"I was wondering when you would show up," Lucemon calmly said, casually walking towards Bagramon.

"I almost didn't," Bagramon admitted.

"If not you, then somebody else would have," Lucemon confidently answered. "But even so, I appreciate the gamble that you are taking on my behalf."

Bagramon frowned and looked down at Lucemon. "So, you know why I'm here?" he asked him.

Lucemon nodded. "I suspected that you had doubts about the way the Heavenly Choir is being run. You have come here to free me. You are not the only one who shares similar sentiments," the angel explained. "An undercurrent of reform is running beneath the Heavenly Choir. There are many of those like us who seek a new order for the Heavenly Choir… They recognise that I am the best Digimon to lead the Sky Colonies towards a better future. I am the only one who can do it."

Bagramon eyebrows twitched downwards slightly. "I wouldn't go that far… I am not following you. I just think that you are the best chance for me to launch my own reforms," Bagramon silently thought to himself. "While I agree with many of the things that you said, I am just using you and your support for my own purposes…"

"Yes, I recognise that there is wave of discontent among some of the angel Digimon living here. You and your six companions are the vanguard for that dissatisfaction…" Bagramon answered diplomatically. "I believe that the right course of action is to let you seven continue with your plans. And we both know what those are."

Lucemon nodded. "I concur absolutely…" he agreed, smiling devilishly.

Bagramon moved out of the way and allowed Lucemon to exit his cell. "…How many supporters do you have?" Bagramon inquired, staring down at him thoughtfully.

"A couple thousand, perhaps?" Lucemon suggested. "It depends on how many have the bravery to stand with us when the actual combat starts."

"So, it will be difficult, but entirely possible," Bagramon mused, resting his sword against his shoulder.

"Correct," the blond-haired angel mused, striding self-assuredly out of the prison cell. Once free, Lucemon turned his head to look up and down the dungeon corridor. "Could we release my other colleagues as well? They are crucial to the plan."

"I was planning to," Bagramon responded. "They should be—"

Bagramon's words were cut off when he heard an explosion in the distance. The floor rumbled gently from the blast's resulting reverberations. It wasn't in the immediate area, but it was nearby – definitely on the Second Sphere. It sounded like it came from the Hall of Valiance, the Powers' headquarters.

"What was that?" Bagramon asked, looking at Lucemon.

"It sounds like it has begun," Lucemon mused, stroking his smooth chin. "It must be my loyal followers rising up. They will likely attempt to break us out of here as well."

"I see…" Bagramon responded with a soft frown. "We had better get moving."

"Yes, let's release the others. The sooner we can communicate with our followers, the better," Lucemon told him, walking down the corridor.

Bagramon pensively gazed at Lucemon as he walked away from him, down the illuminated dungeon hallway.

"There is no turning back now, Bagramon. You have committed to this rebellion. Now you must see it through to the end," the tanned, dark-haired angel told himself. He tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword and his look of determination returned to his emotion-filled red eyes. "If there was a God worth saving, none of this would be happening in the first place. I know that my cause is righteous. If I need to stain my hands with blood to ensure that justice returns to the Digital World, then so be it. That is my burden to bear."

---

Bagramon dashed down one of the streets of the Second Sphere. The moonlight flickered off the surface of his drawn blade. He held his great sword firmly in his hand as he ran down a street of white marble laced with golden embellishments. White light flickered off the pristine surface as it guided the way for him. He flapped his wings gently and glided across the street down towards a large garden outside of the Hallowed Sanctorum.

The fighting had begun and it was intensifying. The cracks of the Heavenly Choir had split open into a violent schism. The quakes could already be felt rupturing the ground on which they had built their utopia.

As he flew, he could see streaks of beams lighting up the partially cloudy sky. Every so often he would notice the flashes of swords or the flickers of attacks in the forms of shooting stars. The majority of the fighting on the Second Sphere was coming from Hall of Valiance and the surrounding training grounds. The Powers had split into those who were loyal and those who were rebelling.

Moving alongside at him were the seven dissident angels who he had just freed from captivity. Lucemon, Seraphimon, Ophanimon, Holydramon, HolyAngemon: Priest Mode, and Silphymon. All seven moved swiftly down the marble streets, fully intent on starting their rebellion.

A HolyAngemon, a Harpymon, a Pegasmon, and a Valkyrimon flew around a corner ahead of them. The group of soldiers spotted them and stopped immediately, stunned at the sight of the eight Digimon before them.

"Soldiers, to me!" the Valkyrimon shouted, aiming his crossbow. "The prisoners have been released! Eliminate them!"

"Kill them!" Lucemon shouted, glowering and pointing at the platoon of soldiers. "Kill any who aren't with us! Don't hesitate!"

"Gladly!" Baalmon shouted with an adrenalized laugh, suddenly disappearing from sight like a flickering shadow.

Seraphimon ripped forwards, towards the group of soldiers. "Die, you fools!" he shouted, closing the distance between himself and the squad of Powers Digimon. He flew up to the HolyAngemon and slammed his opened palm into the angel's ribs before firing a burning orb of light at point blank range. The incandescent orb tore through the HolyAngemon's chest and ripped across the street and into the gardens behind them.

As the HolyAngemon burst into data and Seraphimon turned his wrath towards the next closest Digimon, the Valkyrimon turned and aimed his crossbow at him.

"Aurvandil no—"

Suddenly, Baalmon reappeared behind the Valkyrimon, the double-barrelled shotgun emerging from his long sleeve, the muzzles aimed at his back. There was a look of wild intensity in his eyes. He fired a blast from his shotgun that peppered the Valkyrimon's back. He then swung around and plunged his crimson sword deep into his digicore.

The Valkyrimon gasped and arched backwards before he could fire. His body broke apart into data, which surrounded Baalmon's form.

Baalmon laughed with excitement as he beheld the data floating around here. "He seemed strong while he lasted. Let's see here…" he mused, grinning. He closed his eyes and began to absorb the Valkyrimon's data into his body.

Bagramon stopped and balked at the sight. "Baalmon, what are you—" he began to incredulously say as he watched such a taboo take place in front of him.

Baalmon let out a pained but exhilarated cackle as his body glowed and he absorbed the scattering data into his body. "Haha! Holy shit! That feels amazing! The power surging through my veins, making my skin crawl…! I can feel myself getting stronger!" he shouted, arching his back with pleasure.

The Pegasmon and Harpymon momentarily watched the scene with both terror and repulsion. "Why you…" the Harpymon said, beginning to fly away.

"I don't think so, dear. Sephirot Crystal," Ophanimon said with a dark smirk, creating eleven crystals of burning light in the shape of the Sephirot in front of her. She pointed his double-sided spear towards the two Digimon and sent the crystals shooting towards them. The pair of winged Digimon didn't have time to evade before the crystals tore through their bodies, exiting with streaks of blood. They burst into data as well.

"More powerful, huh?" Seraphimon asked, drawing their data into his own body as well. He grunted and doubled over, clutching his stomach. "Rrrrgh…" he moaned, clawing at his armoured chest as pain and ecstasy suddenly coursed through him. "Yes… I can feel my power increase, if only slightly…" the declining angel growled with dark intensity.

"Is that so…? The strength of the Digimon must factor into how much power one gains from absorbing their data," HolyAngemon: Priest Mode mused. "This could help to balance our numerical disadvantage…"

"Fascinating… Perhaps we should make use of the data that becomes available to us, then," Ophanimon mused with a grin. "Waste not, want not…"

"I bet if I absorbed the data of Seraphimon, I would be unstoppable…' Holydramon growled to himself, excitement flashing in his emerald eyes.

Lucemon smiled softly. "An ugly practice, but if that is what it takes to overthrow these pitiful nobodies, then that is what we must do…" he calmly mused.

Bagramon couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the things that they were saying. He didn't understand how they could just accept such a cruel, vicious, and unforgivable action such as absorbing another Digimon's data. Surely they knew that it meant that the Digimon could no longer be reborn. Such a thing was unspeakable to Bagramon. Did they really fall so far in such a short time? Or were these the lengths that they were willing to go to for their cause?

It didn't matter to Bagramon. He didn't have to approve of their actions. He only had to use them to his advantage. There would be dirty and underhanded things that he would need to be willing to allow if he truly wanted to stand up to God's unrelenting injustice.

"Come on," Bagramon spoke, his voice dark. "We need to continue and meet up with our allies. To the Hallowed Sanctorum."

"Yes, indeed," Lucemon agreed. He flapped his feathery wings and floated down the street, unperturbed by the carnage.

Bagramon narrowed his eyes and followed the seven angels as they flew towards the open gardens of the Hallowed Sanctorum. As he glided after them, he kept a watchful eye on his surroundings. More beams streaked through the sky, illuminating the clouds.

He noticed that dark grey clouds were forming above the Sky Colonies, completely blotting out the light of the moons and stars. They were thick, tumultuous, and foreboding. The deep, nebulous clouds were as dark as soot, almost bordering on black. They swirled restlessly. It was unusual, even for the Sky Colonies.

Bagramon focused on what was before him. Ahead of him, he watched as Seraphimon unleashed his almighty wrath onto a Shakkoumon who stood on guard in the lush, colourful gardens. His Seven Heavens attack released seven burning orbs of light which tore through the Shakkoumon's sturdy ceramic form and tore him to pieces.

The black-haired angel continued running after him, gripping his sword tightly as he prepared to use it at a moment's notice. From what he could tell, the garden seemed clear. Most of the Powers soldiers must have been scrambling in the chaos. They were probably focused on the battle raging a few blocks away. The signs of the violent, disharmonious battle were clear as the dark clouds above flickered and glowed from the stream of purging light.

He watched as the seven angels landed within the gardens, taking up defensive postures. Bagramon slowly touched down at the edge of the gardens, landing on a few flowers as his feet hit the ground. The seven gazed at the Hallowed Sanctorum, a giant, cathedral-like building made of glossy, white marble and stone. The gardens were full of flowerbeds, and there was a large fountain in the middle of the square that they landed in. The peaceful sound of trickling water was discordant with the sounds of rebellion and death nearby.

On the opposite side of the gardens, the shadows of Digimon danced across the grass. The seven angels prepared themselves to attack.

"Over here! Lucemon!" a voice called out. "Commander Seraphimon!"

The group turned to a HolyAngemon, an Angewomon, and an Angemon, who ran out of the shadows towards them.

"HolyAngemon…" Seraphimon spoke, recognising him as one of his junior officers loyal to their cause.

"You are free. We have initiated the operation in your absence. We were going to free you," the HolyAngemon officer said.

"Good. What is the situation?" HolyAngemon: Priest Mode asked him.

"Those loyal to us have begun attacking the Powers' headquarters. We also have divisions launching attacks on patrols in the Golden City. We have platoons moving to secure the bridges to Sky Colonies: Empyrea and Sanctea," the HolyAngemon explained.

"Good," Lucemon mused. "We will need to move quickly."

"We should support the attack on the Powers for now before retreating," HolyAngemon: Priest Mode explained.

"I agree," Seraphimon spoke, stepping forwards.

Bagramon watched from several meters away as the conversation unfolded. He was tense and uneasy. It wasn't just because he was betraying everything that he had known. It wasn't because he was taking a huge gamble based on his beliefs, which could result in his death. It was something else. He felt uneasy with the whole situation he found himself in. Something physically felt wrong.

The archangel of death lifted his head and gazed up into the tempestuous sky. The dark clouds were swirling, churning, like a maelstrom. The black mass of vaporous data coalesced in an agitated state. It was unnatural.

Bagramon began to open his mouth to speak, but the words stuck in his mouth.

"Come on, what are we waiting for?" Baalmon spoke, an untamed levity in his voice. "Let's kill the bastards!"

"We will show them what it means to cross us…" Seraphimon said with restrained fury.

"Can we toy with them a little?" Ophanimon asked with a soft smirk.

Bagramon frowned as he stared at the seven angels. The center of storm seemed to be forming directly above them. Was it because of them…?

"Let's finish this already… Let's destroy them…" Silphymon spoke, bearing his fangs with rage.

"I'll take those sanctimonious bastards down, alright…" Holydramon snarled, his claws digging into the ground as he stared towards the distant battle. "I'll make them pay for overlooking me…"

HolyAngemon: Priest Mode scowled and looked at the six angels. "Stick to the plan. If we want to take these imbeciles down, we will need to do it right," he reminded them.

Lucemon smirked proudly. "Of course… Everything must go according to plan," he spoke, his voice soft, yet aloof and arrogant. "Only then will I lead us to victory…"

Bagramon looked up and watched as the turbulent clouds suddenly became more violent. The dark grey clouds suddenly split open, their gaseous data spreading apart. The clouds began to glow.

The colours of the light spectrum began to appear in the clouds. However, they weren't the bright colours of the rainbow. They were dark, discordant colours, glowing ominously in the menacing sky. A sharp green, a sickly yellow, a murky violet, a deep blue, a fierce orange, a sea blue, and a menacing red all gleamed enigmatically within the dark clouds.

The colours soon manifested in the form of shapes. Seven circles appeared within the clouds, and strange sigils began to form in their centers.

They were the crests of the Seven Deadly Sins.

Bagramon's eyes widened with shock. He looked down at the seven angel Digimon in front of him. Before he could say anything, the crests suddenly surged with dark power. Pillars of dark energy plummeted down from the skies. Each column impacted and consumed the seven rebellious angel Digimon.

Bagramon grunted and braced himself as the impacts sent a ripple of darkness out around the points of contact. It passed through him harmlessly, although he staggered backwards several steps from the blast. The ripple also washed over the HolyAngemon, the Angewomon, and the Angemon, obscuring them from sight with the darkness.

"Rgh… What in the…?" Bagramon uttered, wincing as he stared ahead of him, into the spectral glow consuming the gardens.

His eyes widened with shock at what he saw.

The seven angels were changing.

Darkness consumed their bodies. They grew. They changed. They morphed into something else. Something more sinister and malevolent.

Their bodies grew dark. Their angelic feathers moulted, withered and died, replaced by black leather. Horns grew out of their heads, claws burst from their fingertips, fangs formed in their mouths. In some cases, their bodies enlarged into that of rippling muscle, scales, and fur. Their forms became dark, tainted, and blemished. Holy became unholy. Pure became corrupt.

Angels became demons.

HolyAngemon: Priest Mode's formal, ceremonial robes changed and darkened. His body decayed and withered into a dilapidated, stave-wielding demon: Barbamon.

Silphymon's body swelled and enlarged into a hulking, snarling goat demon. His skinny body became a mass of chiselled muscle, covered with dark brown fur. Six, bat-like wings extended from his back, and his tree trunk-like arms were wrapped in burning chains. Golden belts with a fish-shaped clasp wrapped around his biceps and thighs. His snarling, goat-like face roared as he looked around. His eyes were blood red and feral, and long, wavy horns stretched back from his head. Over his hands were golden gauntlets, from which long, glowing, emerald beam claws extended. He became Belphemon: Rage Mode.

As darkness consumed Baalmon's body, his white robes, embroidered with vast swaths of information, were replaced. His ceremonial garbs were replaced with leather garments that were more visceral, unceremonious, and dark. Baalmon morphed into the wild and wicked Beelzebumon.

Holydramon's long, draconic body morphed from something of grace and holiness into a bestial, reptilian monstrosity. His pink mouth elongated into a massive snout almost the size of his whole body. His pink fur was extinguished, replaced by crimson scales. His green eyes flashed before turning a reptilian yellow. Holydramon became a demonic leviathan of envy: Leviamon.

Meanwhile, the grace and virtue of Ophanimon corrupted. Her regal armour became replaced by loose, revealing clothing. Her hair became dark like a crow's feathers and her eyes became shadowed and aloof. This Ophanimon transformed into the demon, Lilithmon.

Seraphimon also lost his noble armour and his angelic wings. The once dignified angel became replaced by a ferocious, horned, demon man. His body became covered with thick fur, demonic wings grew from his back and large horns grew out of his skull. Seraphimon became the wrathful Demon.

Lastly, Lucemon's pure, innocent, and youthful body corrupted. His small form grew to twice his size, standing at the same height as other humanoid angel Digimon. His modest robes were replaced by an ostentatious black, white, and gold suit. His hair grew darker and longer, and his blue eyes became dark and baleful. Half of his body retained his angelic features like his feathery wings, but the other half of his body became tainted with demonic black wings. Lucemon became Lucemon: Falldown Mode, retaining only his aloof, blue eyes and his smug smile.

As the darkness consumed them, it rippled outwards. The rebellious followers - HolyAngemon, Angewomon, and Angemon – all transformed as well. The HolyAngemon soldier turned into a lanky, grey, six-eyed demon – NeoDevimon. Likewise, the Angewomon and Angemon both transformed into the black demons, LadyDevimon and Devimon.

The same shadows washed through the spheres, affecting the other rebellious Digimon as well.

Bagramon watched, his eyes aghast, completely stunned by the transformations before him. "What is happening…?" he whispered. "They're becoming demons…?"

The angel of death watched as the darkness died down. The thick clouds remained in the skies, but the crests' glow began to dull. Bagramon narrowed his eyes and stared at the seven demon Digimon – the Seven Great Demon Lords.

"What… happened to them? Was that… a punishment from God? …Or did they do that to themselves, somehow? Was it… a Dark Evolution…?" Bagramon wondered, his eyes narrowed. He looked down at his own body to see if he had been affected. He didn't feel any different. Indeed, his angelic body was still intact, unblemished from how it was before. "And why didn't it affect me…?"

"What… What happened to me?" Leviamon growled, his voice rougher, deeper – his words rolling like a snarling gargle. He was crushing entire beds of flowers with his large body just by standing in place. "I feel… different…"

"You look even more hideous than usual…" Lilithmon noted. "But I feel different as well…" The demon walked over to the nearby fountain and gazed into her reflection in the fountain. "Hmm… A different form… This look suits me better. I look stunning…"

Demon grunted and looked down at his clawed hands. "We evolved… I feel stronger… Like I can take on Seraphimon himself…" he spoke, his voice scathing.

"Hahahah!" Beelzebumon laughed, his blood still pumping. "I can feel the power of this body surging through me! It's fucking amazing!"

Barbamon looked over his new body with interest, his eyes particularly drawn to the jewelry and the ornaments. "Yes… Perhaps this is exactly what we needed to turn the tides… We can make up for quantity with quality…" he suggested. "I feel more confident in our chances now… But why the sudden change?"

"Does it matter?" Lucemon asked with a shrug and a shake of his head. He grinned darkly. "With these new forms… The Three Great Angels and their lowly dogs are no match for us. We can destroy them and their old, stagnant ways. We now have the power to make them bow before us… With this hallowed body, I will summon forth a wave of reformation."

Belphemon: Rage Mode released a bestial howl. "WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR?! LET'S KILL THEM!" he roared, his eyes wide with primal rage.

"Whoa! Settle down, big guy! Where'd that come from?" Beelzebumon exclaimed, unable to help but grin at Belphemon's sudden energy and rage.

The stunned Bagramon walked forwards tentatively. "Are you all alright…?" he asked them, frowning suspiciously. "What happened?"

Beelzebumon turned towards him with a lopsided smirk. "Maybe it was a gift from God," he said with sarcastic laugh. "Why the hell didn't you change?"

"I don't know…" Bagramon responded uncertainly.

"It matters not," Barbamon spoke. "Our plans have not changed, even though our bodies have. Are you with us, Bagramon?"

"Of course," Bagramon assured them, his determination returning to his voice.

The NeoDevimon subordinate staggered forwards, unused to his new legs. "C-Commanders!" he called over to them, his voice deep and raspy.

Demon turned towards the masked fallen angel, his lavender eyes piercing as they observed his subordinate. "HolyAngemon… You have changed as well."

"Yes… Commander. To my liking," the NeoDevimon responded. "We have more to report. It involves Baa—" He glanced at the Digimon who was formerly Baalmon, unsure what to call him.

"Name's Beelzebumon now," the aforementioned Beelzebumon explained, intuitively knowing the name upon taking the form. He folded his arms and smirked. "What's up? Wait! Let me guess: the dipshits turned my bar upside down. No big surprise there…"

"Yes, that is correct," the NeoDevimon explained. "However, we managed to save the smuggled goods that were confiscated by the authorities." He turned and pointed to a few boxes piled on a small, mobile cloud that they were using to transport the heavy boxes. "We were in the middle of moving them somewhere safe when we came across you."

Beelzebumon cocked an eyebrow and walked over, a bit uneasy on his legs as well. His heavy combat boots made audible clunking noises against the stone path as he approached the large boxes. The demon grabbed hold of the largest of the boxes and pulled the cloud down to the ground so that he could easily pull the lid off of the crate. He let the lid drop against the side of the crate and peered inside. Within the crate were dozens of bottles of foreign wine, stacked upright from end to end.

"My shipment of smuggled wine all the way from Colossus. Bottled at Bacchusmon's own vineyards," Beelzebumon said with a grin, taking out a bottle of deep red wine and admiring it. "Here's to a new order!" he declared. The demon smirked wider and hurled the bottle at the Hallowed Sanctorum, the headquarters of the holy Virtues. The bottle shattered against the wall and sent blood red, alcoholic liquid down the white marble, staining it a deep rose hue.

"Why bother with that nonsense? You were supposed to be smuggling in resources for our Rebellion. We were this lucky to have some of the Olympos XII happy to support us, and you go and waste it by buying more booze from Bacchusmon?" Barbamon asked Beelzebumon irritably. "What were you planning to do? Hope that the angels would break a habit of a lifetime and drink themselves stupid? Or do you just want to get yourself inebriated?"

"Cripes. Don't blow a gasket, old man," Beelzebumon said with a roll of his three eyes.

"Actually, there is more than wine," the NeoDevimon explained, opening the box beside it. "This will be more useful."

The NeoDevimon opened up the crate to reveal that it was full of weapons. There were immaculate swords, hammers, arrows, beam weapons, rods, and guns piled up in the rest of the boxes.

Beelzebumon whistled, impressed at the designs and quality of the weapons. "Shit… Vulcanusmon doesn't play around. Even his cheapest, most mass-produced stuff is better than most top-of-the-line artisan models," he mused, taking out a sword and spinning it around in his claws.

"Something came with it, especially for you, Lord Beelzebumon," the NeoDevimon informed him, handing him a small, metal, attaché case.

Beelzebumon frowned and took the case curiously. "I didn't order anything extra…" he mumbled, opening up the briefcase. His eyes widened with glee at what he saw inside. Two short-barrelled shotguns, immaculately crafted. "Oh… shit…"

"There was a note addressed to you from Vulcanusmon," he said, giving Beelzebumon the note.

Beelzebumon read the laconic message. 'The Berenjena. Free of charge. To Baalmon, the only Digimon who is worthy of wielding them. Take care of them and use them to the best of their abilities. – Vulcanusmon, Master Blacksmith.'

"Fuck yeah!" Beelzebumon cackled with excitement, immediately pulling out the shotguns and spinning them around on his claws adeptly. With dexterous skill and ease, he stopped the spinning guns in his hands and pointed them at the Demon Lords to test out their weight and feel. "Holy shit. These are fucking amazing!" he exclaimed, grinning ear-to-ear like a Child Digimon with a present.

"Looks like somebody's got an admirer," Leviamon mused, smirking with amusement at Beelzebumon. Underneath the surface, he began to resent the demon for getting something while he didn't.

"You can play with your new toys later, Beelzebumon," Barbamon dismissively stated, deciding to use his new name. "There is a rebellion beginning as we speak and we must be on top of it."

Bagramon nodded firmly. "Time is of the essence, I'm afraid…" he explained to them.

Lilithmon smiled at him. "Then we continue as planned," she said, her smooth voice tinted with notes of excitement.

"And unleash carnage on the Sky Colonies…" Leviamon added, his reptilian eyes narrowing and his double tail flicking irritably.

"Yes…" Seraphimon spoke in a near whisper. "We will show The Being of Goodness and his bootlickers what revolt looks like…"

Lucemon smirked and stepped forwards. "Indeed… And then we will replace this disgusting, unjust society…" he mused purposefully. "…Perhaps we will even replace God himself…"

Bagramon closed his eyes. He could feel the determination, the hatred, the zeal of the Demon Lords. The war was beginning and he would have to pick a side. No… He had already chosen. Bagramon had chosen what he saw was the path of justice. He was going to stick by that choice, no matter how much blood was spilled by his hands. He knew that he was going to have to spill the blood of those who he had considered his brothers.

However… He had already cast aside one brother for his ideals. He would do so again. They were the ones who had become unjust, not him, he told himself. If introducing justice to the Digital World was the result, it would all be worth it…

Bagramon gripped his sword tightly in his hand for a moment before relaxing his hold. He released a calming breath and slowly opened his eyes. He matched gazes with Lucemon and nodded gently.

"So be it…"