Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine.
Fair warning: this is a bit lengthy, but it saves from making another chapter. It answers a lot of stuff that made me wonder in the first season. It's just my interpretation of what COULD have happened, but I think it ties up some of the missing links. Hope you like it!
A single flame danced about on its wick, providing him with a meager amount of light in which to conduct his studies. However, being that his nocturnal vision was superb, there was really no need for much else.
Sighing, he leafed through the pages. It wasn't as if he didn't already know all of this. He had read and re-read every useful spell in the thing, hell, he had even memorized most of it. From intricate conjuring spells to simple good luck charms, he had enough magical know how to either save the world or leave it in ruins. He smirked, settling on a section labeled "Arachnida." Hm. Alchemy. Playing with metals, potions, and what not had never really been his forte. He had let Wizardmon handle most of that. This however might prove useful. Who knew? Maybe being in the human world would alter them somehow and they would be prone to infection? He would die before he'd be the laughing stock of the digital world. The great and powerful Lord of Nightmare Castle, defeated no even by those annoying human brats, but by a common cold.
A small but rather persistent knock thumped on the study door. He didn't have to ask to even know who was there. He braced himself for the stupidity that was sure to follow.
"Come in."
"Myotismon, I have some good news to report. The soldiers are assembled and we're ready to move out."
The vampire mentally rolled his eyes. There was no point in correcting him for addressing his master so improperly. Perhaps later, when he had time enough to beat it into the little mon's thick skull. Time was of the essence, so to speak.
"Are they worthy of me?" Of course they weren't. What did he expect from Demidevimon? A legion of Spartans? That was more of Gatomon's department. Thank the darkness he had one servant who was both loyal and competent.
"Yes, my master."
A child's bitter laughter tinkered into the room. But it was no child. Ah, speak of the Devil...
"They're a bunch of helpless sea slugs if you want my opinion."
He sighed softly, the inevitable bickering was sure to come. He had thought that cats and dogs were said to be mortal enemies. Where "bat" came into the picture was beyond him. Frankly, he was getting tired of it. If they wanted to act like children, then he would remember to treat them like misbehaving little brats when the time came.
He rose, tension singing in his tired muscles. "Gatomon! Don't waste your time on him! Have you done what I asked of you?" Was it just him or was his voice really echoing? Perhaps his headache was a bit worse than he first suspected.
As always, his most loyal servant swept into a bow and confirmed her success. He noted Demidevimon fuming in the corner and began to wonder if her little show of submission was really out of sincerity. No matter. He would have no need for him once he fulfilled his destiny.
Saving him from saying anything else, a bakemon floated through the wall, muttering to itself.
"What is it?" He was both hungry and tired. He hadn't had time to hunt in two days and he had pressed on with his studies far into the morning. The last thing he could stand was anymore drama.
"We've prepared the room and it's ready for your inspection." Finally.
He turned his attention to the little digimon, trying to hide his smirk. "Fine. The two of you are dismissed."
"Right."
He turned his back on them, not really care whether or not they left and unlocked the secret passage way.
As he began to descend the stairs, he couldn't help smirking, a small curl of pride in his stomach at his accomplishments. The sorry bastards had never had a chance.
Screams could be heard throughout the fort, rookie digimon fleeing for their lives. It was foolish to leave such an important object in the care of such weak digimon, even if it was well camouflaged. They were just begging to be conquered.
There were two left, hiding in one of the bedrooms. The first was a rather short, stubby looking old man with bulbous eyes and a ponytail. He donned a white and gray robe and, despite his helpless exterior, spoke with a solid confidence.
"Serafina! Get out of here! You must warn the Holy Council!"
He paused, startled. He had heard that name before.
"No, Gennai! I will not leave you here. You are helpless in the state you are in." Her voice was still soft, musical even though it was laced with frantic worry. However, he could detect a hint of something that hadn't been there before. It was some level of sorrow, some... something that spoke of maturity and the loss of naivete. He peeked around the corner, badly wanting to see the body that matched such a voice.
"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Now quickly, before the castle falls!"
"It has already fallen, old man."
The two whirled to stare at him, freezing in shock. The old man's demeanor loosened a bit and he even appeared... curious? "Hmph. A Myotismon. I don't think I've ever actually seen an existing Myotismon with my own eyes. It takes a great deal of strength and a great deal of pain and anger to evolve into such a digimon."
The womon was still frozen and she was still as beautiful, if not more so, than he remembered her. She had grown taller, fuller, with a woman's soft figure. Her hair was still a lustrous gold, her eyes still crystal blue. Her lips were pouting, a rosy pink. She was so... lovely.
"What do you want?"
Of course she didn't remember him. He smirked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway. "I'm hurt, Serie. You don't recognize me? Of course, I ammuch stronger since the last time we saw one another. I can't say it was under the greatest of circumstances."
Her eyes widened with recognition. "Tristan?" Her steps were hesitant, but she approached him nonetheless. He pushed away from the door frame, watching with a preditorial gaze as she drew near. One of her gloved hands ghosted over the contours of his face. She smiled softly, finally resting her hand on his sculpted cheek. Her touch was so light, so warm. "Tristan. It is you."
He drew her into his arms, secretly elated that she was embracing him. "Goddramon, I've missed you so."
He gently guided her gaze up to his, a small smile playing on his bloodless lips. He was surprised to see that she was crying. "Hush. No more tears. I am here." She blinked, the last of her anguish dripping away. Even with her skin flushed and her eyes filled with tears, she was still marvelous. His voice was barely a whisper."You are so beautiful."
He indulged in one of his small fantasies and breathed along her skin. Oh, she smelled as wonderful as she looked. Gingerly, he ran his lips across her cheek, leaving a trail of feather light kisses down her jaw. She gasped, but it was far from an irritated sound. He grinned, the smell of her skin so delicious. It was intoxicating. He laid a soft kiss on her neck, the smell seemingly stronger. So tantalizing. Great gods, his mouth was watering. Her skin was so soft. So...
Her scream reverberated in her throat, pushing her skin against his eager lips. So warm. So sweet. She was screaming his name, pounding her fists on his back. He was faintly aware that all the yelling wasn't merely from pleasure. Hesitanty, he pulled back, eyes hooded with a heavy afterglow. It had felt... wonderful. Better than he had imagined. Almost better than sex. He felt, complete, powerful.
At a soft noise, Tristan snapped out of his daze, faced again with a stream of tears. "Serie?"
"Tristan... What has happened to you?" She choked back a sob, her voice harsher. "What have you become?!"
He watched, both appalled and enamored, at the sparkling ruby liquid that seeped from two, neat little holes in her skin. Absently, he ran a finger over his lips, coming away with more of the red warmth. Shocked, he stepped back from her. His hand, smeared with her blood, was shaking. "Wh... I-I. Serie, I'm sorry. I don't know what... This is all so new. I've never done this before."
She was still watching him, but her gaze was no longer adoring. No. It was fearful. And it was full of something much worse.
"DON'T YOU LOOK AT ME THAT WAY! DON'T YOU DARE LOOK AT ME THAT WAY!" He didn't know why he was yelling, but it felt good to be angry. It was better than being afraid.
Serie shivered at his thunderous voice, her own so soft and feeble. "W...what way?"
He stalked toward her. What way? What way? She knew. Gods forbid, she damn well knew what way. Like he was some sort of monster. Like he was some sort of freak. Like there was no hope for him, yet she still held onto a small trace of affection for him. Like she PITIED him.
"YOU KNOW NOTHING OF ME! You know nothing of what I have suffered!"
She was frustrated, her tears flowing freely and her voice on the border of hysteria. "Tristan, I want to help you! Please! PLEASE, listen to me!"
"HELP?! I don't want or need your help! I am strong! I am powerful! Why would I WANT to change?"
"WHO CARES ABOUT POWER?! Power doesn't mean anyth-"
"POWER IS EVERYTHING!"
She stared, trying to regain her breath.
His voice was low and harsh, hissing against her face. "You are foolish, my dear. Now who is the child? Now, who is the one who is helpless?"
Her pulse was fluttering, singing a sweet song to him. He shoved her way, a distressed sound escaping his lips. "I don't want to hurt you, Serie. Just... just leave."
"But Trist-"
"GO!" he roared. "You did not see me!"
With one last look with those... those eyes... she tumbled out the window, the hushed snap of her wings signaling her safety. He watched her go, not knowing what else to do.
The clearing of a throat reminded him that he was not alone. He had nearly forgot about the little old man.
"I had better be going as well."
Tristan smirked, a trace of malice evident in his features. "And who says that I will let you live, old man?"
The odd little geezer gave an apathetic shrug. "So why don't you?"
He considered it for a moment, then turned his back. With a snort, he declared, "Because you are not worth my time."
"Hm. Then I suppose I shall be on my way."
The vampire stood in disbelief. "And you will leave me to take over this place, just like that?"
Once again, the man, (Gennai was it?) shrugged. "You are the victor. You claimed this castle. Who am I to cheat you out of your right?"
Tristan studied him, intrigued. Was he a digimon? If not, then what was he? "You are... an odd little man."
Gennai smirked. "Though I do not know if the holy council will be so honorable."
His blue eyes narrowed at the mention of his old brethren."I will worry of that later."
The little old man then stood very straight, holding his hands behind his back. "Farewell then, Tristan. I wish you the best of luck in whatever it is you hope to accomplish in this whole mess."
Tristan. Peh. He was not an angel anymore. He would need a new identity. A better title.
"You tell your council of me. But I am not the little angel boy they cast from their city so long ago. I am a force to be reckoned with."
Gennai gave a small nod, as if he had anticipated this. "And who do I say has laid claim to one of their forts?"
He thought a moment, then let a wicked smile cross his lips. Perhaps the best identity was to not have one at all. "You will tell them that whenever they are ready, Lord Myotismon will be waiting for them."
"My Lord?"
Myotismon snapped out of his thoughts, directing his attention to the bakemon beside him.
"Uh.. If you don't mind my asking, sir, what is this room for?"
He smirked, staring down at the stone platform before him. "Legends tell of this hollow gate. It is the passageway that will take us forward to the other world. When we pass through this portal, we'll be free to infiltrate the human realm."
After much deliberation, the vampire smiled. He was ready.
Finally, he cast the spell to place the cards. This was it. He was going to the human world. He would be all powerful. No one would ever question him again.
"OPEN THE GATE TO MY DESTINY!"
He was Lord Myotismon. And very soon, he would be a king. And there was no one, no man, angel, or digimon, who was going to stop him.
So... whoever saw that coming raise yo hands! if you didn't... hope you found it interesting. I tried tying it in with the episode Gateway To Home, so there are a lot of quotes there from that episode (which I DON'T own). I was always kind of wondering how and why the heck Myo just had this magical gate in the basement of his castle. It seemed really random and way too convenient to me. It made sense that he stole the place from someone else who was studying the real world, so I hooked it up with the angel digimon. Also, if you squint, you can pick up the whole Gatomon's eyes thing. That never really made much sense to me either at first-- like, it seemed like the script was trying to throw out something to make him seem irrationally evil(which we all know evil geniuses are CREATED, not just spawned evil). If you've read (or read) Counterpart, then you can guess who the human child is he "hurt" from the first chapter. (serious spoiler) One final note... Myo leaning against the doorframe all badass-like... tres smexy! ;)
Hope you liked it. I think that's it. I might do a seperate vingette of myo's digidestined to parallel this or I might not. NEway, thanks for reading. Please review!