16

Uneasy Lull

"There were, besides, great formless heaps of books on the floor and in crude bins, and it was in one of these heaps that I found the thing. I never learned its title, for the early pages were missing, but it fell open towards the end and gave me a glimpse of something which sent my senses reeling." – H. P. Lovecraft, "The Book"

Daisuke and Ken were the first of the three groups to return to the human world, followed shortly by Miyako and Hikari. Iori and Takeru arrived some time later, worn out from their climb up the crypt's twisting stairs. Worn out was actually a good way to describe all of them. The lack of rest the previous night and the excitement of the day combined to render them near exhaustion.

Emotionally, however, they felt considerably better than they had the previous day. It felt good to be taking action again. Perhaps in the back of their minds they realized the lack of real progress, and dreaded the coming night, but for the most part they were more cheerful after the day's experiences. Iori noted that somewhere during the climb up the stairs Takeru had returned to his normal personality.

Unfortunately, the good feelings didn't last. Each returning group was greeted by a growing number of solemn faces. They had entered the Digital World through the computer in Yagami Taichi's bedroom. When Daisuke, Chicomon, Ken, and Leafmon returned, Taichi was waiting with a message from Koshiro.

"Daisuke, Koshiro let me know that while you guys were taking care of those Dark Towers, new towers have started to appear all over the Digital World."

"Aw… It's just like when Ichijouji was – you know…" He broke off.

"Conquering the Digital World," Ken said. Taichi nodded.

"Back then, Daisuke's team would destroy at least one Dark Tower every day, but there were always more being built. It didn't end until they went after the towers' source."

"So we'll have to do it again," Daisuke said.

"If only we knew where to go," said Ken.

"Back then," Daisuke recalled, "we just started looking all over for the enemy base. Maybe we could do the same thing again?"

The other two thought for a moment.

"This time at least one of the enemies is an adult, like Oikawa," Taichi said. "There may be a base in this world."

"I would think," Ken said, "that there would be at least one base in the Digital World. It would be hard to hide highly evolved Digimon in this world for very long."

"Yeah, you couldn't pretend Witchmon or Astamon was a stuffed animal," Daisuke agreed. "Maybe when the others—" His eyes opened wide. "Where are they? Did they run into enemies like Astamon!?"

He was interrupted by a light from the computer screen, and the appearance of the second group, consisting of Miyako, Pururumon, Hikari, and Plotmon.

Before sharing what he knew with the newcomers, Taichi assured both groups that Takeru and Iori had both encountered the enemy, managed to defeat them, and were on their way back. After that, the news about the new Dark Towers was shared, and the two groups traded stories of their experiences.

"I wonder how many Perfect-level Digimon the enemy has," Ken said.

"It will be worse if they have any Ultimates," Hikari noted.

"We'll worry about that tomorrow," Miyako said. "I'm so tired…"

There was a long silence in the room as everyone gazed into space, each occupied with his or her own thoughts.

Miyako's mention of being tired reminded Taichi of his own lack of restful sleep the previous night. He had lain awake for a long time, thinking about his sister in the other bedroom, and wondering what she might be going through. Eventually he had fallen asleep, and had dreamed.

In his dream he had been walking down an endless hallway, and with every turn of a corner he came upon another corpse. There was Daisuke, his face blackened, Taichi's old goggles knotted about his throat. Here was what he had to assume from size and clothes was Iori, his face left in bloody ruins. Miyako, hanged. Ken, impaled. Takeru, eviscerated. As he progressed the hall lights grew gradually dimmer, so that when at last he turned the final, dreaded corner, and saw the end of the hall, all he could make out was a sixth body lying in the gloom before the elevator doors.

He knew, with the certainty of doom one sometimes feels in nightmares, whose body it had to be. He walked closer, though not because he wanted to. Details began to come to him out of the dark. First he saw she wasn't wearing any clothes. Then he saw she wasn't wearing any skin.

Wisemon opened his eyes to darkness. This was not the dimness of a cave in the daytime, but a blackness which told him that the sun had gone down, and it was night in the desert. He might also have known by the coldness of the air. He knew, too, without having to feel about, that the Book was still with him; he had slept with his arms folded about it for one thing, and for another it had a funny way of returning to him when lost. Sometimes he staggered under its size and weight, but at the moment it was small and lighter than seemed possible.

Moving one arm, he raised his hand, and above his palm a light sprang into existence. It issued from a yellow, glowing orb, ringed with blue bands that hovered about the sphere's surface. In this new light he could clearly see the way back out to the open sands, and he followed the twisting walls of the tunnel until he was out once more in the boundless waste. The Book floated out of his arm and hovered slowly away, and he followed.

From a distance, one would have seen only a pair of bobbing lights, one yellow, one red, both spherical. Sometimes Wisemon would juggle the orbs to amuse himself, or let them orbit around him like satellites. He needed just enough light to see the Book and to follow it.

Wisemon had had the Book for as long as he could remember. Sometimes he would write in it, other times find that someone else had written for him, though it never once left his person. What he wrote and found varied, but mostly the Book was about strange things. It had the history of many places in it, some of which Wisemon knew and others which neither he nor any other Digimon had ever heard of. There were odd names without much context, and long passages in some foreign language.

At times the Book would suggest things to him, and he would do them. Most often the Book lay still, like any other normal object, but at other times it would float through the air or slide along the ground, at times when no one else was watching. When it did this he would follow it.

He could not imagine life without the Book. It was a part of him, like the two bright round stones he could make appear and disappear, and move as he wished.

Several days ago the Book had begun to move again. Usually it did this only for brief periods, but now it moved all throughout the night. During the day it lay still, and he would sleep, or eat, but at night he walked, or sometimes floated himself. The Book was taking him into the desert. He was not much worried, though, since the Book seemed to know where all the oases were, and though he was hungry, he was not starving, and though he was thirsty, he could live.

He had been walking for some time when suddenly the Book began to pick up speed. It changed direction and shot away, and Wisemon hurried after it. The Book's altitude declined, and before long it was sliding across the sand at such a speed that its owner had to fly over the ground as fast as he could to keep up with it.

Eventually the Book began to slow down. A while longer and it had ground to a halt. Wisemon slackened his speed as well. He was almost to it when he noticed that a shadow not his own fell across it, cast by the low moon. Looking into the distance he saw someone walking quickly towards him. This person was tall, and did not look like any Digimon that Wisemon had ever seen.

The person drew closer and Wisemon realized that this was what the Book called a human being, one of the many strange things he had learnt about from its pages. As the man – he could see now it was a man – came still nearer, however, he began to doubt the impression. He had never heard of humans whose eyes glittered even when no light fell upon them. The man smiled and raised a hand as if to wave.

The Book, which had been lying still for some while, suddenly shot into the air and then paused with its spine pressing the man's palm. His fingers closed around it, and the white smile broadened. The man spoke.

"Hello, Wisemon. I've been waiting for you."

And Wisemon realized, as the man said it, that Wisemon had been waiting for him, too.