106
From the Sidelines
"Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly;
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro."
– Edgar Allan Poe, "The Conqueror Worm"
The shadows of evening fell swiftly as the day drew on, doubtless due to the still overcast sky. The physical darkness was augmented by a tenseness in the muggy air, as if the city were holding its breath awaiting the atrocities that another night would bring. As far as the public was aware, the previous night had only seen the recent rash of mysterious sexual assaults continue. But this, rather than raise hopes that the threats from another world were diminishing, instead seemed ominous.
Whether they admitted it or not, people knew in their hearts that this strange plague would not vanish quietly. They all felt that there was some explosive crisis coming. The rising tide of their dreams proclaimed it. Some evil power was growing, always growing. All felt it, all saw it manifest in the relentless onslaught of nightmares.
And besides the Chosen Children, few felt it more intensely than Professor Takenouchi Haruhiko. This was in spite of the fact that he had been in Kyoto since before the violence began in Tokyo. He had just returned to the capital this evening, having begged off his duties at the university for at least a few days. As the only real academic who had come into direct contact with Digimon in the past, he'd had his request readily granted. The Digimon Critic returns to save the day, he thought, though he was in no mood to laugh.
It was his family that brought him home, of course. He had more cause to fear for their safety than perhaps anyone else with loved ones in the city that had again become a sort of warzone – his daughter was actively fighting those battles. Haruhiko hadn't always been the biggest presence in Sora's life. He loved her, and her mother as well, but circumstances – and not always ones beyond his control – had kept him from them for long periods. It had put a strain, one never really acknowledged before that incredible summer of 1999, on Sora's relationship with both her parents.
Now that he had begun spending part of his time learning about the Digimon and their world, he and Sora had something in common. Ironically, she seemed to need him less now than when they'd been more distant, but he had sworn to himself that he would be there to support her in times like these.
He didn't know what he could really do to help in a material sense. Anthropologists were not the sort of scientists people looked to in a crisis. When it came to Digimon, the greatest insight he could offer was that many of them seemed to draw upon primal human concepts familiar to him from world mythology. He recalled saying something to that effect when he first met Inoue Miyako. It struck a grim chord now, as he recalled prattling about evil spirits and gates to the netherworld. Those gates were opened wide now. The recently defeated Digimon that had been terrorizing Tokyo clearly corresponded to the demons of Western religion.
And then there was that other thing. Haruhiko had managed to get hold of some details as to what the assault victims had witnessed. It would seem that here, too, was an entity drawn from Western myth. Its goat-like features and terrible lust surely pointed towards the Greek god Pan, the god that lent its name to the English word "panic" – the stark, unreasoning fear that falls suddenly upon people in lonely places. With such a horrific deity on the loose, there was good cause to be afraid. This thing threatened more than simple death… and Haruhiko's daughter was among its class of preferred targets.
Was it this that brought him back to Tokyo? He couldn't say. Probably he should have come sooner, despite his reason telling him that there was nothing he could really do to help the children in their battle. He couldn't shake off an obscure sense that he might be needed. Maybe his past research could provide some benefit to Sora and the others, even if he couldn't imagine what it might be.
By the time he arrived at the apartment the day seemed already spent, though in fact the sun was still above the horizon, even if no one could see it behind the pall of cloud. It didn't feel much like a homecoming. Toshiko was there to greet him, though she looked wan and a little worried. With her help he made inquiries, but only learned that there would be no chance to help out this night. Like Sora, the Chosen Children had already left their homes, and had taken their partner Digimon with them.
Hiraga Ayaki's checkered career had taken him to many places, and somewhere along the way he had acquired a foreigner's habit of occasionally being less than observant of business etiquette. He'd quickly grown tired of sitting and waiting for results, and had caught up with the man who had gone to see whether there was some method of tracking down the cat Digimon. There didn't seem to be much for him to contribute. Familiar though he was with standard technology, the systems in the group's headquarters differed from anything he had seen before. Still, he was tired of inaction.
An hour or so dragged on without a solution. Then without warning one of the nearby computer screens began to flicker, and what it displayed was inundated by a flood of static. When the screen cleared, it was to reveal the smiling face of the Dark Man. His features were shrouded in shadow, only the eyes and mouth standing out with distinctness, and there was a background of blackness behind him.
Hiraga took a closer look at the screen, wondering a little at how the man had managed to hijack the computer like that from whatever hole he was in. The man standing beside him showed no surprise, only nodded his head once in a gesture of reverence and waited attentively.
"Still no luck playing hide-and-seek, Hiraga-san?" the Dark Man said, his voice perfectly clear over the computer's speakers.
"Yes," Hiraga answered, not sure if he could be heard on the other end. "There doesn't seem to be a way to pinpoint that Digimon's location without searching for it manually, but we will keep trying."
"Well…" the Dark Man said, grasping his chin in an exaggerated attitude of thought. "I could stop repressing the Digimon's electronic interference. Then at least you'd know if you were getting warmer. But no… the one is too small to make a difference, and the other could wipe out all those computers that you aren't putting to good use. Hmm…"
Hiraga felt he should say something. "I suppose that, if all else fails, search parties might be organized."
"Now there's an idea! But now that you've thought of it there's no need. BlackTailmon is coming to you."
"She's returning to the building?"
"Indeed. She's on her way, and she's not alone. It seems the Chosen Children are better seekers than yourself." The Dark Man laughed. The image on the screen flickered a little, perhaps coincidentally. "Oh, don't look like such a sore loser, Hiraga-san! They may not even get there – you should see why before too long. But you should be ready for whatever happens, all the same."
Hiraga took a second to process what he'd been told. He considered asking what he and his compatriots could do with all their Digimon dead, but remembered the opponents were a bunch of kids, and thought it better to keep his mouth shut. Maybe the Dark Man guessed what he was thinking – his shadowy head was shaking slowly with amused contempt.
"Keep up the good work," he said, and then the static filled the screen once more. When it receded, the old windows were up as if nothing had happened. Hiraga turned to the foreign man beside him.
"Do you have any suggestions on a plan of action?" The man said nothing; maybe he hadn't understood. Hiraga turned away with an inward sigh and stalked out of the room, trying to think of what preparations there could possibly be to make.
Demon sat upon his throne, the crimson claws of one hand clicking impatiently against one of the chair's stone arms. He had just returned to the throne room from another unsuccessful attempt to open a gateway out of the World of Darkness. The clean, honest night of the Digital and Real Worlds – so unlike the eternal twilight of this world – would be coming on soon. Perhaps in a few hours the time would be right to try again.
Though irritated, Demon was not enraged at the latest failure. The barriers of the worlds were weakening at a steady pace. With his immense power it wouldn't be much longer before a hole could be punched in the fabric of space. He had in fact been expecting this latest ritual to succeed, but the lingering glimpse it gave of the Digital World had faded at the last moment.
When the time came he would waste no time in entering the human world, and there would be no holding back, no bargaining, and no mere handful of minions. He and his legions would destroy all in sight, including the Chosen Children, once they inevitably arrived. Ichijouji Ken's Dark Seed would be his, and then—
To his annoyance his thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a pale shape that soared into the room through one of the arches. It was one of his IceDevimon servants, and the message it brought had to be important to require such an intrusion.
"What?" Demon said. The messenger knelt, one grotesquely long arm resting across its knee.
"My apologies, Demon-sama," it breathed. "Lookouts have reported that one of the Deep Ones has made a journey to the plateau of Leng. We were told to keep you informed of their activities."
Demon's eyes narrowed in thought. Dagomon's minions rarely strayed far from their dark ocean. That one should travel as far as Leng was unheard of. Doubtless it was part of whatever the High Priest was plotting. Ordinarily Demon took no interest in Dagomon's esoteric business, but if the master of the Deep Ones was indeed behind the weakening of the barriers, this deserved to be looked into. Demon's mysterious visitor of the other day, Dagomon's ally, had come offering an alliance, access to the human world… and to the Dark Seed. He had not returned yet for Demon's answer. Perhaps he would not return at all. It was better to take action now than to wait.
"What part of Leng?" he asked.
"Its destination was thought to be the old monastery."
"Then send spies," Demon said. "Find out what is happening there and report back to me."
The IceDevimon bowed low and took to the sky, gliding down from the tower to see that the Demon Lord's orders were carried out.