For a few moments, the air is still. Then Ken puts Wormmon down, the insect not even moving far enough or looking afraid. He stays by Ken's foot instead. His young face looks solemnly down at the crowd, then up at Lucemon. "Does this make you happy?" Ken asks.
"I'm always happy to make the world a better place," the angel says sweetly, smiling down at him.
Ken shivers but braces himself. "Would killing me accomplish that?"
"It could." Lucemon sounds like just thinking about it makes him giddy.
"But what if it doesn't?" Takeru steps forward. "What if it just makes everything worse? What if it doesn't get rid of the anger and hate that everybody is feeling right now?"
Lucemon pauses. Had he not thought of that? Did Millenniummon, the Dark Seed, make someone so single minded? Then he shrugs. "Then we start with you and your friends, Takeru."
Takeru shivers then. "Sorry, Patamon," he says softly. "We're not going to let that happen."
"How?" It's the certainty that steadies Takeru's stance. Hope is in that digimon's face, just like it always is.
Takeru holds up his Digivice. "The only way we can."
From a distant, painful part of himself, Takeru digs up hope. He digs deep, to where HolyAngemon sleeps, to where the Crest was locked up. It starts to rise up, prompted by the poking fingers of his soul. He digs and yanks and believes in the Patamon who has always saved him.
Weakly, desperately, his Digivice starts to glow.
Lucemon begins to howl.
No one is prepared for the strike of the Digimon below.