Looking up and down the deserted streets of the dark, undersea city, Kari felt a chill run down her spine. This couldn't be right--it was so empty.

Where are all the people who built it? she wondered, then also wondered if she truly wanted to know.

She had found that, although there was obviously plenty of oxygen in the dome, it was still somehow hard for her to breathe—it felt like she was being stifled by the very darkness of the air itself. She ignored this, however, bent on her mission. Now that she was here, where was the 'Undersea Master'?

Where's Hippogriffonmon? she wondered suddenly, glancing around, a sense of acute discomfort growing as she realized that the large winged digimon was nowhere to be seen.

She began to make her way slowly towards the plaza at the center of the circular city. As she walked she glanced about anxiously, searching for some sign of life, but it seemed she was alone . . . then she staggered and nearly went to her knees as she took her first step into the plaza. A black throbbing exploded through her mind and body, the awful waves of utter darkness tearing at her sanity . . . but then she gathered her thoughts, shielding herself from the evil, and she stood straight and tall once more.

The evil pulse seemed to be coming from a black marble fountain situated in the plaza's center. Kari carefully approached and gazed down into the sullen mirror, staring down at her own reflection, a dark, shadowy version of herself looking back up at her. Was she doing the right thing? she wondered again, but she swiftly pushed the thought and its trailing doubts aside. Reluctantly she reached out and touched the torpid water with her fingertips; again her hand felt somehow dirty, but she ignored the feeling and did not withdraw her hand. Instead she closed her eyes and sent out a question:

I'm here. Now what do you want?

There was a long pause, then she felt an unpleasant, icy jolt run through her arm, like that of electricity or bitterly cold needles, or perhaps both combined. Seconds later she received the reply she expected, but did not want:

Welcome, Child of Light. We knew you would come. We felt your presence the moment you first entered our World . . . You have more power than we expected.

I don't want flattery. Stop stalling.

Oh ho, impatient, are you? We admire your spirit. We enjoy a challenge.

Tell me what it is you want.

The reply was but a single word, yet it made her very blood run cold:

You.

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