51

The Deep

"After a while he began to shudder, and turned away from the scene as if frightened; yet could give no explanation save that he was overcome with the vastness, darkness, remoteness, antiquity, and mystery of the oceanic abysses." – H. P. Lovecraft, "The Temple"

Iori was in that state of mind which separates consciousness from unconsciousness, when the mind wanders without purpose over the scenes of the day and anything else that it happens to drift across. His mother had told him that Chiho had come to see him earlier in the day and been disappointed to not find him at home. He was sorry to let her down, but it couldn't be helped. Now was not the time for him to be building a relationship with his elementary school girlfriend.

His fluid focus strayed to the time he had spent with Takeru earlier that day in the Digital World. For the most part they had traveled through a dense, swampy jungle and the surrounding areas, finding Dark Towers in random locations, often leaning at odd angles. Interspersed with these images were dim recollections of the previous night's dream. The ocean floor split open. He couldn't see what was below it – the jungle and its Dark Towers were back again – but he could feel the horror of it in his chest. Eventually, he finished passing into sleep, and he had no idea of how much time passed before the new dream began.

He was sitting up in a padded seat, looking through the glass dome of a one-man submarine. The scene was vaguely familiar, and after a few moments he remembered why. He had used a similar machine to escape alone from the offshore oil rig where the others had found the Digimental of Sincerity. He had no way of knowing if this was the same vehicle, but he knew that the circumstances were different this time around.

Either it was night, or he was much farther below the surface. Everything beyond the glass was a blue so deep that it was almost black. Looking down from his position, he could not see the ocean floor, and looking up he saw no signs of a surface. As before, he had no control over the movement of the craft. It moved straight on ahead toward some unknown destination.

He had time enough to think while he waited to arrive, and he was certain that wherever the submersible was headed, it was not towards safety. Was Submarimon somewhere out there, looking for him? But he told himself firmly not to think of the situation in terms of "safety" and where his partner might be. He was sure that this was another of the dreams which had been plaguing him and his friends, and it would be a bad idea to treat it as anything more. If he kept reminding himself that the dream couldn't hurt him, it wouldn't.

Long minutes passed, and seemed to become hours. Instead of boring him as he had hoped it might, the waiting preyed on his nerves. The sea went on forever. Strange thoughts began to creep into his mind. He couldn't be sure that there was no movement outside the submarine. He had no way of knowing how far his vision could reach in the dark water. At times the feeling came over him that there might be something just outside the glass, staring in at him, and he fought off the sensation with difficulty.

What was it that Submarimon had said, that first time he had evolved? "The ocean is so wide." At the time the words had crystalized in Iori's mind the beauty of the ocean, with its colorful coral and gentle fishy denizens. Now, as they came back to him, they had new meaning. The ocean was wide. And it was deep. It continued for unimaginable distances in all directions, and anything could be hidden within its abysses. Dark, wriggling things crawled through it, and it concealed all the world's forever lost and cursed treasures. The ocean is so wide. And here he was submerged in it.

Finally the monotony of the journey was broken. Out of the darkness a structure materialized. As the submersible drew closer to it, Iori could see that it was a gigantic cylinder. It would have been identical to the one he and his friends had been trapped in beneath the oil rig, except that it went up until his eyes could no longer distinguish it from the black water, and down to unseen depths.

The cylinder grew larger as the distance closed. It was obviously the submarine's destination. But how is it going to dock? Iori wondered. The pod's speed remained unchanged, yet he could see no place in the structure's smooth surface for it to enter. No, Iori thought, if this is supposed to be a nightmare I'm going to hit it. He knew that, logically, the impact wouldn't hurt him, but as his entire vision filled with the cylinder's metal wall he couldn't keep from squeezing his eyes shut.

Iori was unsure of what exactly the collision might be like, but he expected the submersible to be smashed to pieces when it hit, probably propelling him awake. Instead, there was a hollow clang and a tearing of metal, and when he next opened his eyes it was to see the shadowy interior of the cylinder. The glass dome of the pod had popped open, leaving room enough for him to climb out if he chose. His craft seemed to be lodged in the wall of the structure, raised a meter or so off the floor.

Iori considered staying where he was, but the pod groaned and shifted forward slightly. At any moment it might tumble to the floor. He climbed out as carefully as he could and dropped to the floor, then moved quickly away from the pod as it tilted again. He turned around to watch it, and soon it pitched forward and fell. Seawater began to pour in through the hole it had left in the outer wall. Iori was tempted to stand his ground, but when he felt how cold the water felt, and how real, he decided that he did not want to drown even in a dream.

Looking around, he spotted a metal staircase spiraling upwards to a higher floor, and headed for it. If his memory served him correctly, the layout of this dream place was the same as that of the offshore oil rig where the Digimental had been found. The difference was that in all probability he was now much deeper than he had ever been before. There was no telling how many levels were above this one.

He made his way quickly up the first staircase, then found himself on an identical floor, with another climb awaiting him. Running up the next flight of stairs, he began to feel winded, and wondered how it was possible for his mind to convince his body that it was exerting itself instead of lying in bed.

It's a dream. I know it's a dream.

But it didn't feel like a dream. All dreams seem real to a degree when a person is in them, but now there was no distinction at all between sleeping and waking. He could really smell the salt, and feel the stale air brushing past him, and hear the clatter and clang of every footfall on the metal stairs, and the echoes that followed.

Coming to the top of the second staircase, he paused to catch his breath. There needed to be an end to this. Countless levels lay above this one, and eventually he would be too exhausted to outrun the rising water. He thought back to the oil rig. There had been a way to shut off the water. V-mon had found it, somewhere along the outer wall. After a few minutes of searching Iori had located it, a button ringed in red and labeled, "Emergency Shutter."

He pressed it, and the heavy metal shutters began to rumble somewhere above and below him. He steadied himself against the wall with one hand, and was preparing to rest when he heard something else.

"Iori!"

"Iori-kun!"

It was Miyako's voice, and Takeru's. Running to the center of the shaft and peering over the railing, Iori could see the shutters grinding closed. In the pit below, the water was rising slowly but steadily. Once the shutters were fully shut, it would be prevented from climbing any higher, but now he could see that his friends were down there, hurrying to catch up to him, and that they too would be cut off.

The shutter was closing rapidly, but Iori caught a glimpse of them before it grated shut entirely. They seemed to see him in the last moment. Daisuke and the others looked up and almost directly at him.

"Guys!"

It was the only word he got out before they vanished beneath the shutter. The rumbling ended soon afterwards. Silence followed, but Iori's mind was a cacophony of conflicting thoughts. Those weren't really his friends down there, just another part of the dream, but at the same time they were his friends, and he had just left them to drown. How glad he would be just now to be among friends, even dream friends, with whom he could face this nightmare.

After a moment's hesitation he ran back to the large button, looking for a way to reopen the shutter, but there was nothing else. The button could not be un-pressed. He went back to the railing and stood looking down. Even from his height he could tell that the shutter would be immovable.

Iori was short on breath again, but not from exertion. How? How can I save them? How!? This shouldn't happen, even in a dream. To let them down – no, to kill them! His grip on the handrail tightened until his knuckles were white.

He gave a start when someone laughed on the floor above him.

"You want the shutter to open again? I could do that from up here."

The voice was that of a friend, but there was nothing friendly in the tone, which was taken up by sadistic mirth.

"Ichijouji-san!"

Ichijouji Ken hadn't been below with the others. Iori's brain just hadn't processed it at the time.

"No. I'm finished with him," the voice replied. "The Digimon Kaiser has returned, and I won't have an insect like you address me by any other name."

No, that isn't Ichijouji-san,Iori thought. He wouldn't go back, after all we've been through together.

"I suppose I should be grateful to you for taking care of your friends for me. I think I'll be leaving that shutter closed."

"It's a dream," Iori whispered to himself. "It's a bad dream. It's just a dream!"

"A dream?" the Kaiser sneered. "No, this is a game. And I'm about to win."

"Open it," Iori said.

"What did you say?"

"Open it!"

"Who are you to give orders to the ruler of the Digital World?"

Iori ran to the next staircase and began to climb. If he came to grips with this thing, faced it head on, maybe he could tear through the illusion. Maybe he could finally wake up and be done with the whole morbid scenario.

"Now you want to come up? I think you fit much better down there."

Iori was about halfway up the long, spiraling staircase when it began to sway beneath him. He tripped and fell, and the pain he felt on impact was real enough. Even so, he would have gotten up again, but now the stairs were bucking wildly. There was a sound like a thunderclap far below, and fetid seawater erupted on all sides, blasting the stairs apart. Iori felt weightless, out of contact with anything solid. And then he was falling, dropping dizzily downward, watching the roaring water swirl up endlessly into blackness.