111

Solidarity

"He feared the fall of night over that accursed place, but it was some comfort to have so many people with him." – H. P. Lovecraft, "The Colour Out of Space"

Panimon resituated himself, turning his body to face the Chosen Children while keeping a tight hold on WarGreymon and pressure on MetalGarurumon.

"Now, Chosen Children," Panimon said, "Any opinion on which of your Digimon I should crush first?"

They could only stare. What retort could they make when they had no Digimon in reserve? Pyocomon, Pukamon, and Motimon could not evolve again so soon. They would have a chance only if one of Panimon's captives managed to break free.

"No answer?" Panimon said. "Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

WarGreymon strained against Panimon's hand with all the strength of his muscular body. Inch by inch he managed to force the huge fingers apart, but Panimon continued to speak without any sign of paying attention.

"How about this orange one, who sucked up my fog?" Panimon asked, stretching his hand in the Chosen Children's direction to indicate WarGreymon. The hand flashed violet, and the resulting peal of thunder failed to drown out WarGreymon's scream.

"Stop!" Taichi yelled, but Panimon only smirked.

"I would like to finish him off before the flower girl," he continued. "I'll need a free hand if I want to pull all her little wings off."

Lilimon was trying to struggle as WarGreymon had done, but the finger wrapped about her remained more immobile than steel. Mimi's eyes were fixed on her partner with a look of horror. She seemed unable to speak.

"And what about the other one?" Panimon asked. He raised his foot – only a little, but enough that MetalGarurumon could almost stand upright despite the beating he had taken.

"MetalGarurumon!" Yamato cried as his partner came back into sight.

"Y…Yamato… Ah!"

Panimon's full weight had come down again, and MetalGarurumon's hoarse yell of pain was immediately cut off. Panimon laughed again. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying his new game. "How about it, Chosen Children?" he asked. "Have you ever felt so useless? How foolish you look! Standing there staring, incapable of any action that could possibly save you. Even at their utmost limits your Digimon cannot so much as mark me. Go on! Tell me which one deserves the quickest end to their misery. If you don't answer soon it will be too late for the wolf… but I guess it doesn't matter."

"Is there really nothing we can do?" Sora asked angrily, speaking to no one in particular.

"Even if I could evolve again," Motimon said, "I'd be no match for him."

"There's got to be something," said Taichi. "I won't give up! If WarGreymon could just get free…"

"If we could fight too…!" Yamato said. "I've got to do something! Otherwise, MetalGarurumon…" His words were choked off at the thought.

Sora looked at him, her eyes moist with a combination of compassion and intolerable outrage against their enemy. She wanted to help – just like all of them wanted to help, and just like all of them she saw no way to do so. Pyocomon sat in her arms, and though Sora couldn't see it her partner's eyes were fixed on the group of Digimon, and there was a hard look in them. Sora was at least conscious of her little partner's presence. If Pyocomon evolved again… but in spite of the situation it seemed selfish to ask. She felt as never before the frustration of being unable to share with her Digimon the burden of the fight.

"Sora," she heard. A little surprised to hear her speak, she looked down at Pyocomon. "I think I can evolve again."

"But, to evolve so far, so soon..."

"Please let me try it," Pyocomon answered. "Even if I get beaten again, it's worth it so save my friends."

"I'd like to try too," Pukamon said from Jou's arms.

"Are you sure?" his partner asked, giving him an appraising look.

"Of course I'm sure," said Pukamon, with something of his eternal smile in his voice. "Just be ready to patch me up after it's over."

"Looks like you're having a good discussion over there," said Panimon's loud and terrible voice. "Have you come to a decision yet?"

Yamato bared his teeth, but could say nothing for fear his partner might pay for it. Beside him he heard Pyocomon's small voice.

"You do understand… Right, Sora?" There was a moment's silence.

"Yes."

With that word the two Baby Digimon leapt from their resting places. The whole scene felt strangely familiar. It reminded the Chosen Children of that first fight with Kuwagamon, but drained of all its warmth and color, with their partners leaving their arms to rush headlong into what seemed to be certain defeat. Back then, just as they had evolved the day had darkened, and now instead the night grew brighter with the light of the Digivices, and the answering light of their bodies.

The two radiant shapes grew and grew, and all the time were moving ahead.

"…Garudamon!"

"…Zudomon!"

"Wrong answer," said Panimon. Purple lightning surged through his right arm and into WarGreymon's body, while his left hand – the hand that had Lilimon – rose to bludgeon the oncoming Garudamon.

"Hammer Boomerang!"

Thor's Hammer left Zudomon's grip at high speed, striking Panimon's right hand a moment after. For an instant the hold on WarGreymon relaxed, and in spite of the lingering pain of that last shock he was able to take advantage of the opportunity. At the same time Panimon, slightly off balance, lashed out at Garudamon. Her own claws met his attack, catching at his hand as the impact rocked him back on his heels. Next Zudomon's bulk came barreling in, and the three giant Digimon went down all together in a confused heap.

The collapse threw up new dust and debris, making it hard for the Chosen Children to see what was happening, but they could hear a cry of, "Hammer Spark!" and an impact. For the most part the mass of Digimon appeared oddly still – and yet there was a palpable tension about it. Some titanic struggle was taking place.

Suddenly several things happened in rapid succession. A small shape darted up into the air, free of the chaos, and the observers recognized Lilimon. The next instant Garudamon gave what seemed to be a cry of pain. Her entire body rose into the air – Panimon's hand was around her wrist, and with it he slammed her head-first into the ground. Finally there was an explosion of purple energy, and Zudomon's massive form was launched into the air, coming down again with a tremendous crash.

Cloven feet kicked the air, and in a moment Panimon stood on his feet once more. "Fools!" His black fur bristled and crackled with power. He appeared to swell, and a darkness that was not the darkness of night seemed to lower over the wreck of the Tokyo street. Panimon's mouth opened wide, and a heart-stopping shriek deafened even the Chosen Children, and filled them with overmastering terror. The very air seemed to shudder visibly. Fragments of the pavement rose into the air as if gravity itself had been obliterated.

The scream ended in a great concussion, felt instead of heard. The force of it blasted the Chosen Children off their feet, and several of their partners, reduced to Baby II form, were hurled in their direction, bouncing like skipped stones.

Silence fell. Long seconds passed.

Finally, bruised with the battering they had taken, the Chosen Children crawled to unsteady feet or sitting positions. The street was in ruins. Trees in the park had been flattened, and not a single pane of glass remained intact in the faces of the adjacent buildings. Wherever they could be seen, the partner Digimon lay motionless. All were in their Baby forms with the exception of Taichi and Yamato's partners, and stumbling to their sides the boys found that though the two Digimon had kept their shape their armor had been broken in many places. The others scooped up the little bodies of their partners from where they had fallen.

"You're finished," Panimon said. The earth trembled as his slow steps brought him nearer to his enemies. "This city is mine, and everyone in it." He paused and looked down at WarGreymon and MetalGarurumon. They made an effort to rise again, but their limbs could not support them. Panimon grinned and stooped forward.

Taichi and Yamato tensed, but did not retreat. Maybe, Sora thought, they could no longer stand apart from their Digimon. In spite of their helplessness, they were willing to fight tooth and nail against this colossal enemy, rather than remain idle and watch their best friends be destroyed. They would do now in their own feeble way what Sora had so passionately wished to do earlier. Naturally she was terrified for them. They were her friends. Yamato was more than a friend, and, to an extent, so was Taichi. Panimon would not kill them now, but that was little comfort. His hands were descending. They lowered their heads, braced as if for impact.

Sora could not remain where she was. They stood with their partners, and she would stand with them. Panimon paused when she stepped forward.

"I'll get to you soon," he said. "There's no rush."

She ignored him. "We won't give up, will we?" she asked. There was a steadiness and firmness in her voice that amazed even herself.

"Sora?" Yamato said, looking up at her in surprise but not leaving MetalGarurumon's side. Taichi also looked at her, long and hard.

"That's right," he said. "…We can't give up. We aren't just fighting for us— Ah!" His eyes went wide as a thought struck him. By this time Koshiro, Mimi, and Jou had drawn near to the group before the incredulous Panimon, their partners in their arms.

"Even if it seems like there's nothing we can do…" Jou said.

"No, there is!" Taichi interrupted him. "At least…"

Now the idea that had come to Taichi appeared in Yamato's head as well. Perhaps it resulted from a sense of déjà vu – the subconscious memory of a scene on another night when all seemed lost, and Sora had appeared before them. "Everybody's hope…" he murmured.

"Now this is pathetic," Panimon sneered. "Hope is dead in this city. I have killed it. By this point, Chosen Children, can you really pretend that there is any hope left to you?"

"We don't have to pretend!" Taichi said.

"Even when things look hopeless," said Yamato, "that's when we have the most to hope for."

"We're all here, together," Koshiro said. The light that had dawned on Taichi and Yamato had now spread to the rest of the Chosen, and they looked even confident as they stood as a group, six humans and six Digimon.

"Oh, enough of this," Panimon said. His hands closed in once more.

"I feel it, Taichi," WarGreymon said.

"Yes, thanks to everyone…" MetalGarurumon joined in. From the bodies of the fallen Ultimates a light had begun to shine. With his fists Panimon would have crushed both their heads, but instead he struck nothing but pavement. The heads had moved; they were larger now, and a shape of radiance had formed between them.

"What is this, now?" Panimon said, sounding more curious than annoyed, though he did take a step back from the blazing light.

The Chosen Children didn't answer. They only watched in relief as that light solidified into Omegamon, summoned into being by their common purpose. As in crises past, his white figure symbolized the hope of many. Sora in particular felt a sense almost of release. She had spent the past few days worrying about the vulnerabilities of people who dared to care for each other, but here seemed to be proof that the weaknesses of friendship and love were counterbalanced – and perhaps outweighed – by the strength they provided. She felt the presence of Taichi and Yamato beside her, the rest of her friends behind her, and she could have cried for joy.

"Another evolution…" Panimon muttered, looking at Omegamon, whose height was about the same as his. He smiled. "This will be the kind of fight that legends are born of."

His opponent spoke no word in response, but only swung his left arm out in a wide arc, unsheathing his blade with a burst of smoke.