124
On the Plateau
"They walk unseen and foul in lonely places where the Words have been spoken and the Rites howled through at their Seasons. The wind gibbers with Their voices, and the earth mutters with Their consciousness. They bend the forest and crush the city, yet may not forest or city behold the hand that smites… As a foulness shall ye know Them. Their hand is at your throats, yet ye see Them not; and Their habitation is even one with your guarded threshold." – H. P. Lovecraft, "The Dunwich Horror"
Darkness. All was darkness and cold and silence.
Only after a long interval did some vague suggestion of motion become manifest, like the restlessness of an unquiet sea. Sato Katsu dreamed, and for the first time in a long time the dream was his own.
As he became conscious of the fact that he was dreaming, he became conscious also of something approaching – a presence. Sato's soul stirred feebly.
I played my part, he thought to himself. What could have gone wrong? All the years I've waited… The sensation of that Other was growing stronger. Gradually its presence became more substantial, more insistent. Yes, Sato told it, I know I should, and yet… and yet maybe I shouldn't. Something went wrong, and maybe I should rest. I… I'm so tired… I – I don't want to dream anymore.
From out of the lightless deep he heard a churning, bubbling commotion, and from the interior of his mind a harsh hiss. Sato's indecision was replaced by a sudden sense of purpose, not unmixed with terror. My faith is unshaken, he declared to the darkness. Tell me what I must do.
The next moment he was awake. His first waking sensation was of pain, and taking in the ruin about him he remembered why that should be. The monastery's ceiling had collapsed, and the falling rubble, some pieces large enough to have crushed him to death, had cut and battered him. The chief pain was in his head, and putting a hand to it he could feel the dried blood from the injury that had knocked him unconscious.
He now stood upon a section of the stone floor that had fallen outward from the monastery's center and come to a stop when it ground into the equally shattered but still stable perimeter of the abyss in which the monstrous whirlpool revolved.
As he took in these details, a new sensation – different from the pain but just as unpleasant – began to seep into his head. He recognized it, and stood still, listening. As he waited, a black object came sliding out of the tangle of fallen stone, skittered across the uneven floor and came to a stop at his feet. Stooping to examine it, he recognized the handgun which had been lying forgotten under his cot since his arrival in this world.
He picked it up, and it was as he did so that the icy sensation in his mind began to take on a new form. Seeming to ascend from an unfathomable abyss within him came a voice that was not a voice. It spoke no language, but after his years spent in the World of Darkness he could comprehend it well.
You will bring them to me, it said. Yagami, Ichijouji, and all the rest. And if you cannot bring them, you will kill them.
Sato straightened. There was no need to ask what direction to begin his pursuit in. At this moment, some fraction of the omniscience of his god's incredible intellect was his. He set out immediately.
He kept to a brisk pace – treading on piles of rubble, climbing ruined walls, jumping crevices – in spite of the pain of his numerous injuries. Besides the head wound that had knocked him unconscious, he had bled from several lesser cuts, and was bruised all over. It was only by a miracle that he had lived at all. He didn't care. Something greater than pain drove him. His devotion to the evil path he had clung to for so long, his redoubled hatred of the Chosen Children and the Light they represented, both drove him. This was the same relentless forward motion that had consumed him for years, each breath he took a curse against the worlds and everything in them.
He knew, whether by instinct or through his brief mental connection with the High Priest, that he no longer need concern himself with Demon. Certainly there was no sign of the demon lord, nor indeed a sign of any living thing in that grotesque wasteland but Sato Katsu himself. He was free to devote every last ounce of his strength to the pursuit of the Chosen Children. Damn them! he thought, baring his teeth as he stalked onwards, a savage and bloodied figure.
Chance had come to their aid once more, and the hour of Sato's triumph had been delayed yet again. It was time for this to end. The powers of Darkness might be eternal, and content to wait for the inevitable, but Sato was tired of waiting and striving. Had he not followed his orders? Had he not fulfilled the destiny plotted for him since all light had gone out of him? Yet here was he, chiefest of the Master's agents, commander of inhumanly powerful beings beyond count, limping after his enemies, clutching a pistol like a common criminal. The irony was almost funny. In fact, as the minutes wore on, and such thoughts continued to dog him, he began to suspect that it was, in fact, horrifically funny.
But Sato Katsu hadn't laughed in a very long time, and he refrained from doing so now. He was afraid it might sound like the Dark Man's laughter.
He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head. Had the loss of blood left him lightheaded? He wondered how much farther ahead of him his quarry had gotten while he was unconscious. It should not be long now before he had them in sight. Possibly he might have been able to see them now were it not for Leng's strange landscape, the deceptive complexity of which concealed much.
Another minute or two passed before his persistence was rewarded. From some distance ahead there drifted to him on the lifeless air the sound of voices. His eyes narrowed, and his breath hissed between his clenched teeth as he pressed on.
"What do we do now?" Takeru asked, resisting the urge to massage his hurt leg. "There doesn't seem to be any end to this place." It was a rhetorical question. Their only goal had been to distance themselves from what remained of the monastery and their enemies. They knew what they were running from, but had no idea what they could run to.
They had paused once again, this time after climbing over a ridge of rock to find themselves at the edge of a craggy valley cut into the plateau. There was a relatively flat space large enough for them to stand on, but if they wanted to progress farther in the same direction they would have some hiking to do that their weakened constitutions would make difficult.
"I just want to get out of this world altogether," Miyako groaned. "I want to see the sun again…"
"Miyako-san and the others have been in this world before, haven't they?" Iori asked. "How did everyone get out before?"
"I'm trying to think…" Ken said. "The last time we entered the Dark World because of BlackWarGreymon's distortion, right?"
"Back when Tailmon and I evolved to Sylphimon for the first time," Pururumon piped up.
"That's right," Ken said, sounding thoughtful. "Once the Blossomon was defeated the distortion disappeared and we were back in the Digital World. But why?"
Takeru's face was scrunched up with an effort of recollection. "Back in Vamdemon's castle," he said, "there were distortions of space that AtlurKabuterimon fixed with his Horn Buster attack. But if that's all it took, then why…"
"This might be different," YukimiBotamon said. "We're not in a distorted space this time."
Her partner's voice roused Hikari from her own meditations. Thinking back to the Blossomon incident, it had occurred to her that maybe they'd escaped not so much through their actions as through their thoughts. This world brought fears and anxieties to life. Could the appearance of Sylphimon and the defeat of the enemy have cleared away their negative emotions and allowed them to break free of the Dark Ocean's grasp?
"There was also the first time…" Takeru said. Hikari met his gaze, and saw the hesitation there. She knew the question he wanted to ask, but she had no answer for it. The light from the sky that had come to their aid upon the Dark Tower's destruction was as much a mystery to her as it was to him.
The Light… Her Crest… Just what was it that connected her to the life-giving force of the Digital World? She suddenly recalled to mind the light that had just guided them safe through the labyrinth. She could still sense some slight vestige of that other personality within her. If only she could question it somehow, open direct communication with it. Perhaps at this very moment she unknowingly held the power to free herself and her friends from this horrible world! But concentrate as she might, there seemed no way to tap into that buried consciousness.
Seated nearby, Daisuke turned his head from her and looked down at his partner.
"You still can't evolve, Chicomon?"
"Sorry, Daisuke. I guess Ken was right about evolution not working right in this world."
Daisuke sighed. "I hope someone figures a way out of here soon," he said. "If you and the others can't evolve we'll never be able to destroy that guy who killed Nat-chan."
"Daisuke, you met Nat-chan again?"
"Yeah," he said, hanging his head. "If it wasn't for me, she might still be alive."
Chicomon's expression turned sad. "Maybe she'll be reborn?" he suggested.
"Argh, I hope so," Daisuke said. He raised his head, and a fierce expression came into his eyes. "Still, we have to beat that guy no matter what it takes," he said softly.
The next moment he and the others were startled to hear the urgent voice of Leafmon.
"Ken-chan, somebody's coming!"
The next moment Tsubumon began to bounce excitedly. "There is! Over there, dagyaa!"
Even as he said it, all eyes were drawn back the way the group had come, slightly uphill, as a moving object came into view against the ashen sky. Exclamations of surprise escaped the Chosen Children.
"You!" Takeru said.
Sato Katsu stopped, looking down at them. He made a stark and terrible figure, with his disheveled appearance, coldly wild eyes, and gun in hand. For a while there was silence, Sato looking down and the Chosen Children and tiny Digimon staring back at him. Sato brought his breathing under control before speaking.
"This is the end of your escape attempt, Chosen Children."
"Bastard," Daisuke growled. "What makes you say that?"
"What is the point, Sato Katsu?" Ken asked. He tried to talk reasonably, but couldn't quite keep all anger or fear out of his voice. "Your base is destroyed. There's nowhere left for you to take us to."
"Fortunately," Sato answered, "there is no longer any need for that. Can't you feel it? The change in the air? Demon's power has been absorbed. My goal has already been achieved. Ia!"
"His goal?" Iori whispered.
"And what is your goal?" Takeru asked angrily. "What's all of that stuff you were gathering for? What could be the point of causing all that pain, and even sacrificing your friends? Give us a straight answer for once!"
"Could it be," Hikari said, "that you're trying to release…" She hesitated a moment before saying the dreaded name. "…Dagomon from this world?"
"You think that's all this is about?" Sato snapped. "You think it's for something that simple that we have waited so long? How stupid. My god has been free to enter the Digital World for some time now. What else could have wiped out Neptunemon's seal, you little idiot? Our aim has never been merely to breach the walls between the worlds of light and darkness! Our aim… has been to erase them entirely."