Uh...hi?
So, a funny story happened to me on the way to chapter eight. The district I work in finally got its new preschool building. It opened end of August 2017. The largest of its kind in the state. I, along with several coworkers, were relocated. We went from 18 to 28 classrooms. Two floors. New teachers. More assistants. An actual administration staff. The superintendent himself came to visit us. We had a huge Grand Opening in late October with all sorts of officials attending, including the mayor and at least one State Senator. My students were asked to perform, so I had to get them ready in about two months' time. They are all 4 years old. Some of them, 3 at the time. We've been under a microscope ever since, have had two principals in the last two years, been given workshops on everything from emotional intelligence to executive functioning to freaking how to properly teach BLOCKS and our staff attendance has been so ridiculously low some days that they've canceled my music classes so that I could provide coverage for OTHER classrooms. Because there just aren't enough substitutes. All this on top of your typical struggles with attempting to manage 20 little ones at a time with many MANY needs, some of them severe, while creating and implementing developmentally appropriate lessons.
Needless to say, it's been...pretty stressful. To the point where I had to once again put a lot of self-writing on the back burner for...Holy Angemon, has it really been almost two years?! Geez, I feel awful considering I did promise this story would be finished. Which is will be. After this chapter, there is only one more to go. The big one, with all those final battles and wrap-up and me doing a lot of hoping that all this buildup finally pays off in a worthwhile way.
ANYWAYS...as indicated above, this will be the penultimate chapter. I...don't think I have much more to say other than that, really. Beware of spoilers, etc etc. Although I will note that I did have a lot more fun than I thought I would during certain scenes because of the subtle way I was able to sneak in some foreshadowing and hints towards one last major plot twist before the end.
PANDORA'S BOX
(Episode Eight: "Elpsis")
Green.
Before she even opened her eyes, Miyako saw Green. She wasn't sure how she was seeing such a color without looking, but she was. No, more than that...she felt it. Which made even less sense. What was green even supposed to feel like? What did it feel like? Within the span of a gentle sigh, she mulled it over. Warmth. In her chest. Slight tingling in her temples. Residual pain that was slowly being drawn out of her body, until the heaviness of her limbs faded into a dull ache. Mild lethargy. Medicine. That's what it felt like. Like she had taken some kind of "green" medicine, and was now experiencing the not entirely unpleasant after-effects.
When did she take medicine? And why? The last thing she remembered, she...she...
Twitching of the eye. Nose scrunching. Eyelashes fluttering for a moment before slowly opening. Vision blurry. She nearly moved to reach for her glasses, as she always did when she first woke up, before realizing she could still feel them perched on the bridge of her nose. Focus. Adjustment. The world around her sharpening into more than indecipherable blobs. She tilted her head up.
And she saw Green.
Two of them. Pools of emerald so vivid, they looked like they were glowing. How could someone's eyes look so impossibly green?
She blinked once. Twice. Her vision cleared, and when she looked up again, the Green was gone. But the eyes were still there. Only brown. A reddish brown. Kind of russet in color. Warm. They were attached to an equally warm and strikingly beautiful face. One she recognized. Or knew she was supposed to recognize. Except...she'd never really stopped to notice just how lovely the girl truly was. Even the deep lines beneath those eyes could not take away from her loveliness. Nor the disheveled clothing, nor the tangled mop of hair that probably hadn't seen a brush in days.
"I..." she began, voice nearly cracking. How long was she out? Swallowing once, she slowly sat up. Eyes lingering just long enough to realize she was staring, to which she responded by promptly blushing and averting her gaze. Looking at anything and anyone else. There were a surprising number of choices. Again, all of them she knew she should recognize. "...I'm not going to like this, am I?"
"Probably not," a young voice from somewhere behind her muttered softly.
"How do you feel?" A second voice. Much closer. She turned and saw a boy her age kneeling beside her. His hand was on her shoulder, and even through the glove it felt warm to her chilled skin. "Your head. Do you remember what happened?"
Concerned. Worried. He knew her, and something about her head was causing him to look at her in that way.
She didn't respond at first. Staring at him not unlike the way she'd been staring at the lovely girl. He was lovely, too. Maybe lovelier. Soft features. Pale skin framed by dark hair and clothing. His voice was pleasant. She liked hearing it. A lot. So much that she nearly responded in the negative to his question on instinct. Not bothering to think over his words. What they meant. What he was even talking about.
"...my...head?" A hand lifted to her temple. Testing. The pressure felt nice, but there was nothing beneath it to relieve. Then, although she wasn't entirely sure why, she touched the tips of her fingers to her cupid's bow. Pulling away, they revealed...nothing. No blood. There...there had been blood there before. "I...fell. I think." A flash entered her mind. Standing before two people—she'd heard one of them speak a moment ago—and muttering something before it all went black. "I remember..."
Ken.
That was his name. The lovely boy. His name was...Ken. No. Cratus. No, that didn't...seem right.
She looked back to him, and this time, took in the ensemble he was wearing. And promptly frowned. "What are you wearing?" It didn't seem right either. Although...she glanced down, and her suspicions were confirmed. "What am I wearing?"
"You don't...?" Ken began, growing more concerned with every passing second. He shot a glance towards both Mimi and Koushiro, hoping one of them would have an answer.
Still slumped on the ground, Mimi shrugged wearily. "Don't look at me."
"Give her a minute." Fortunately, Koushiro was slightly more reassuring. His eyes were still glowing, and he showed absolutely no signs of tiring. If anything, the ongoing pouring of information into his mind's eye was invigorating. He looked almost pleased in spite of it all. Like a scientist on the verge of a new discovery. "Her Code's adjusting."
"And just what is that supposed to-" Miyako turned towards the newest voice, but all further questions died on her lips as she caught full sight of him.
Of his eyes.
Purple.
Glowing just as she'd thought the lovely girl's had been glowing Green. Which...maybe they had been. Maybe that hadn't been a trick of her subconscious. If the boy's were glowing the same. But different. Only there was more to the difference between them than just color. She could tell. Somehow. The Green had felt refreshing. Sort of...purifying. Whereas those twin purple Orbs intently staring her down looked a little too know-it-all for her confused state of mind's liking.
...wait.
Purity. Knowledge.
Her eyes widened.
Images at first. More flashes of moments in time. Words spoken. Scathing remarks exchanged. Interactions. Things she had said and done to not just either of them, but to the people near and dear to their hearts. To...to the one dear to her heart. Allies. Loyalties. Missions. Explosions. Monitors. Digital Coding. Bia. Zelus. Cratus.
Nike.
"Told you," came the voice of Knowledge. Sounding quite proud of himself.
"Not now, Koushiro-kun," Purity lightly scolded the boy. Her voice sounded weak. Tired. "The last thing we need for you is to—whoa."
No sooner had Mimi attempted to stand up, when her knees rebelled. Just in time for the vertigo to hit. Badly. A strong pair of arms wrapped around her less a split second before she fell, and her head lolled forward, hair shielding her face from everyone's view as she waited for the sensation to pass. It didn't.
"Easy, Mimi-san." She didn't have it in her to be surprised at the sudden closeness of Koushiro's baritone. When had he gotten so strong? So quick? Or had he simply known she was going to fall before she did? "You've healed two people on the brink of death in less than three hours. That would take a lot out of anyone." He didn't sound worried, so she took that as a good sign. There was some shared movement between them as she felt herself being guided somewhere. A chair. She sat down, still partially leaning on him, and resisted the urge to fall asleep right there and then. "You'll be fine. You just need to recharge a little."
"'m not...a battery, y' know," was her response. Low and half-mumbled.
It was enough to earn a faint chuckle out of him before he turned back around.
Three pairs of eyes were staring at him now, each bearing a different expression.
Nike's was the one that interested him most, as he watched the emotions displaying across her face and Code with such rapid transition between realization, horror, embarrassment, and more than a touch of shame. Mimi had done more than just heal her, it seemed. She'd purified the Dark Chosen of any lingering Influence. Strong as it had been before, however, it left the poor girl in a state of bewilderment as she struggled to match her current reality with the conflict of memories playing in her mind.
Not so free was Bia, whose Code still read the strongest Influence of all. But even then, there was a change Koushiro couldn't help note. A shift. It was weakening. Not enough to break free just yet, but enough that the young boy—perhaps for the first time since his creation—was allowing himself an independent thought. Taking in the world around him, and assessing based on a personal criteria rather than what he was told to interpret. His gaze kept shifting between Nike and Cratus, and Koushiro was surprised to find his Code suddenly read of awkward.
...or was Cratus really an appropriate moniker any longer? The more Koushiro studied the older boy's Code, the more he was inclined to think of him as Ken. While the Influence remained just as it did with Bia, it was nowhere near as strong or prevalent in his system. Hints continued to hover around his brain and heart, but they seemed to be easily shoved aside by an overwhelming sense of concern for the girl beside him. Concern, coupled with-
"Now what?" Bia was the first to speak up, startling everyone but Mimi.
Koushiro opened his mouth to answer before realizing he...din't really have one. Escape would be his first option, and while he suspected Nike/Miyako would no longer have an objection, and Ken might go along with whatever she said, Bia would still prove a challenge.
Unfortunately, the choice was soon made for all of them as the computer screen in the back of the room began to flicker. The image coming in and out of focus several times with random bursts of static interference appearing at far wilder rates than before. Bia was the first to act, stepped towards it before catching himself. Hesitating. It had been a purely habitual act for him to reach for the clipboard, but right then...he was unsure. Turning to his two companions in silent question.
They, in turn, looked to one another.
"What should we do?" Miyako asked.
"I...I'm not sure," Ken was even more at a visible loss than Bia. "There's the protocol, but...it doesn't feel right anymore."
"We can't just ignore it," Bia cut in.
"I know that, but things have changed. Everything. Light...the girl...she's not even..."
"What I want to know," Koushiro stepped forward, cutting Ken's train of thought off. His eyes were focused intently on the screen with a renewed sense of purpose. Thanks to the full power of his Crest, he could now read the Code as well as any of them. Perhaps better. "Is what it means?"
"I thought you said you understood everything you read?" Bia stated dryly.
"Normally, yes. But in this insistence...no hope could mean just about anything."
o*0*o
Hikari ran. Sometimes, she stumbled, but for the most part, she ran faster than she had ever run in her life. Sprinting past long corridors, twisted intersections, and empty caverns. She ran until she was certain she'd end up lost, and yet she somehow knew exactly which choice to make each time one came upon her. Cutting through the shadows trying to obscure the way. Had it been this dark before? To the point where the walls felt like they were closing in, leaving on the faintest beam of light heading her down a single path. One barely large enough to find her way through.
She din't stop until she reached the dungeon entrance. The door was open. There was only silence. Silence and her heavy breathing, and...far in the distance...the haunting sound of water droplets hitting some unseen pool.
Like the pool of blood Takeru was laying in. Prone. Unmoving.
Tears stung her eyes. Her chest felt tight. She'd known what she would find when she reached him. Even now, there was that dull ache in her lower abdomen. A constant reminder of the moment she felt his pain. Seeing him was another thing altogether. Her body moved of its own accord. One step. Another. Meter by meter, slowly approaching until she fell to her knees at his side. A trembling hand reached out to turn him over, bracing herself for what was to come.
It didn't help.
"Takeru-kun..."
There was blood everywhere. Spread from the wound in his stomach, soaking into his clothing. His arms. Flecks speckling his hair and face. Which was so pale. Like a ghost. She was trembling now. Her hand fell to his arm. Shaking him. Gently at first. Like she were afraid he would fall apart at the slightest touch.
"Takeru-kun...wake up. Please. You...have to..."
Drip.
There was no response.
Hew mind grew foggy as she tried to recall any basic first aid. Checking his wrist for a pulse. Nothing. But she could have been doing it wrong. His breath. Two fingers beneath his nose. They were so numb she wasn't she sure would have been able to feel any air brush over them. His stomach. The wound. Blood continued to trickle, saturating the fabric of his shirt. Spreading across the ground. There was a wetness on her lower pants. The same wetness she felt when she pressed a hand to his abdomen. Pressure. She needed to apply pressure. One hand wasn't enough. She tried both. Putting the whole of her weight on it. Red slipped through her fingers. Thick and sweet and sticky. But not warm.
There was no warmth left in either of them.
She tried to press her ear to his chest for signs of...anything. Heartbeat. Air in his lungs. Desperate to ignore the blood smearing against her chin and hair in the process. Takeru's blood.
"You're too late." She looked up to see a silhouette emerge from the shadows. Daisuke. Only the voice was not his. Nor were the eyes. Black as they were, she could see neither anger nor pleasure in them. His expression betrayed very little either. "Your Hope is dead."
Swallowing the rising lump in her throat, Hikari shook her head. "No. No, he can't be. He can't..." she looked to Takeru, then back to the being known as Dagomon. Here before her, now, in someone else's flesh. The face of a friend, but the voice of her darkest nightmares. "You have to bring him back. Please."
"Your belief in my power is admirable. But one such as myself does not possess the power to give what has been taken. Not even by my own hand."
He stepped forward. The air around her cooled. With every staggered breath, Hikari saw more and more smoke appear.
"Why?" The first tear spilled over, trailing down her cheek in a single, glistening trail. "Why did you..."
"Kill him?"
She couldn't bring herself to nod.
The response did not come right away. Instead, Dagomon took another step forward. The movements oddly human for one who should not have been accustomed to such a form. Practiced and fluid. When the distance between them closed, he crouched down on the opposite side of Takeru's body. Staring directly into Hikari's eyes at equal level. Close enough that she should have been able to see her reflection in them, but she saw only nothingness.
"Perhaps you think I will blame you. Or him." Low. Soft. One would almost think them kind, in spite of the known source. She stared back in a terrified awe, wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape. Pressure lingering on Takeru's wound, despite the slow ease in tension of her muscles. She was weakening in his presence. She could feel it, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. To stop him. "Perhaps I will blame those who sought to deny me my very existence. Banishing me to a realm of darkness for the crime of having been born. Or perhaps I will simply blame Destiny. For not even a god cannot escape what has been foretold." There was a pause. Hikari could have spoken then, but she remained silent. Captivated. "We are bound, you and I. This, I have known since the moment your Light first shone bright. You know it as well. You feel it now just as strongly as you felt my presence in the classroom."
Confusion. At first. Then it clicked. And she gasped at the horrific realization.
They'd all brushed it off as vaguely Digital World related. Even Koushiro. Even Takeru. Suddenly collapsing in the middle of a lecture. On the first day of school. Immunity issues were not uncommon with her, and she had been tired from staying up the previous night. Chilled from her breakfast drink. Excuses had been made. Not one of them unrealistic. Theories were glossed over. Attributing it to the rising dark influence that had overshadowed the World. The timing fit. If the worlds were as out of synch as suspected.
Or...the timing would have fit, except for the one thing Hikari had never told them. Because she hadn't even realized it herself until that very moment.
That she'd truly starting feeling unwell not long after sitting down by Daisuke.
"That was..." her mind reeled at the impossibility of it all. "How?"
"Destiny." For the first time, Dagomon smiled in Daisuke's body, and it was a sight that send shivers down Hikari's spine. "Opportunity. Precisely the moment I had grown strong enough to spread my Influence was the moment your precious Daisuke-kun came to me. His desire for you rivaled my own. His distain for Hope would soon surpass it. So blinded, he did not realize what was happening to him until it was over. And the results proved far greater than even my highest expectations. For, rather than have him bring you to me with time...you fell so quickly, Light, that you walked right into my new world. So quickly that preparations had not yet been completed. A transgression I am willing to forgive."
He stood then, and to Hikari's surprise, began to step away. Circling around the pair until he reached the entrance of the prison cell. She thought he would lock them in once more, but he didn't so much as glance at the door. Pausing just long enough to glance over his shoulder, tone filled with confidence and certainty. He knew she would not run.
"I will allow you your goodbyes. A gift to you, Light, in honor of our impending union."
With that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving Hikari to stare after through a vision blurred with tears. One of them trickling down her cheek, to her chin, where it dangled a moment before falling to the pool of blood beneath her.
Drip.
o*0*o
"BABY FLAME!"
Agumon's attack preceded him as he rushed into the dimly-lit corridor, illuminated only by the residuals flames burning the hem of the possessed guardian's cloak. The poor man spent a full half second running from the heat before finding himself toppled by a mosh pit of Piyomon's Hard Beak, Gomamon's Marching Fishes, and Tanemon...simply blowing on the flames in an attempt to put them out.
In the distance, Gabumon's Blue Blaster could be heard, accompanied by a few more cries of pain before everything fell silent once more.
"...I think you got him." Angewomon stepped forward, glancing down at the Child forms of her friends with an unusually neutral expression. In her arms, she was cradling the still form of her dear Poyomon, who had devolved yet again since falling. She turned to Taichi. "Was he the last?"
"I think so." The leader of the Chosen appeared to be counting something on his fingers for a time. Freezing when he reached his left hand ring finger just long enough to hear one last scream echo. "No. I take it back. That was the last."
"Is it just me, or did that seem a little too easy?" Jou adjusted his glasses as he came up beside Taichi.
"It's because we were too strong for them!" Agumon threw his claws up with a smile from his seat peached atop the unconscious guardian's head. His allies seemed more content to sprawl out over the man's back, except for Tanemon, who was still tapping at a few stubborn glowing embers.
"Also because we didn't want to hurt them too badly," Sora reminded them gently, coming up on Taichi's other side. Trying not to smile at the sight, less she further encourage this kind of behavior. "It's not their fault Dagomon possessed them."
The sound of rocks falling drew their attention in time to see a cloud of dust rise up from a nearby entrance. Or what used to be the entrance. AtlurKabuterimon looked about as sheepish as one could read on the poor recently evolved digimon's expression, head bowing down in apology for the mess.
"Sorry."
"Can't you just devolve yourself?" Yamato stepped forward, slightly annoyed as he attempted to brush some of the smaller bits of rubble from his hair. That's what he gets for trying to help.
"Hey, it's not like I just decided to up and evolve myself!"
"It's a good thing, Yamato-kun, remember?" Taking pity on her friend, Sora stepped forward and tried to help him with some of the more tangled pieces. He looked like he would protest, but quickly caved. "Evolution means Crest Activation. Which means we know they're still okay."
"Yeah. Sure." He seemed less than convinced, eyes drifting over to Poyomon.
Sora immediately realized her error and pulled her hand back in apology.
A soft click accompanied a small beam of light just them, slowly highlighting each corner of the room. Behind it, Jou seemed to be focused on some of the darker crevices and open doorways, analyzing each in hopes of finding their next course of action. The eldest had already voluntary done most of the literal heavy lifting until that point, carrying all but Yamato and Taichi's things. (Gomamon had offered to help earlier, but couldn't manage more than one without tripping over the straps.) His face bore an unusually focused expression, determination overtaking his usual sense of wariness in unknown situations.
"You brought a flashlight?" Sora smiled faintly at him, the only one unsurprised by his pro-activeness.
"I always keep one in here," Jou responded, turning back just long enough to accidentally shine the light directly in Taichi's eyes.
"Hey!"
"Sorry," he lowered the beam long enough to look sheepish. "It's just that you never known when the power might go out again at cram school." He sounded completely serious. "The last time it happened, we were in the middle of a mock exam. Our professor actually had us finish in the dark before we were allowed to leave."
"What kind of cram school do you even go to?" Yamato wanted to know.
Any answers were lost to the caverns as Sora abruptly shushed all three of the boys at once. The digimon, too, ceased in movement, looking to her with wide eyes. Jou adjusted the beam of light so it was pointing upward, illuminating all of them in a dim glow and revealing her concern. She was staring out at something beyond their current line of vision.
"What is it, Sora?" Piyomon asked her partner in a hushed whisper.
"I thought I heard..." she trailed off, listening closely. "Voices. And footsteps. They're coming this way."
"More Guardians?"
"Taichi, should we hide?" Agumon asked.
"We can't really fight in the dark like this," Gabumon offered hesitantly, looking around with a frown. He could have sworn it hadn't been this dark a few minutes ago. "Jou's flashlight can only light up part of the area. It's too dangerous."
"Maybe if we're really, really quiet, they won't notice us and walk away," AtlurKabuterimon offered, earning him several odd looks. As if there was anyone less likely to go unnoticed at the moment. "Some of the unlocked rooms might-"
"MIMI!" Tanemon jumped up suddenly, the high frequency of her voice ringing in everyone's ears. Agumon was so startled, he fell to the ground, and the rest of the digimon let out simultaneous cries of surprise as she took off down the corridor, bouncing happily with every word: "Mimi! Mimi, we're here! Mimi!"
"...Mimi-chan?" Jou blinked, torn between a rising excitement and bewilderment.
"I hear her voice!" Tanemon insisted as she turned a corner, disappearing from view. "I'd know it any—MIMI!"
There was a glow in the distance. Indirect light coming from just beyond their line of vision, flickering enough to tell it was coming from multiple portable sources. Shadows cast against the wall revealed the distorted form of Tanemon diving forward two very close figures, nearly knocking them both down as she struck their legs. There was some indecipherable shouting and laughter and other sounds of both mirth and amazement. Although the group couldn't help note that most if it seemed to be coming from Tanemon.
"I found her, you guys! She's here! And Koushiro!"
"Koushiro-han?" AtlurKabuterimon's head lifted, arms waving up and down. "Koushiro-han!"
"... AtlurKabuterimon?" The boy in question rounded the corner just then, carrying a lantern in one hand and a barely semi-conscious Mimi on his shoulders. His eyes widened at the sight of his partner...only to widen further when he saw the large digimon attempt to approach. In an area he already had to crouch down just to fit through. "Ah...stay there! I'll...come to you...in a minute."
As the rest of the room signed in relief, Koushiro winced at the continued weight of Mimi against his shoulder. Catching her mid-fall was one thing, but with the difference in their heights and the added weight of the lantern, it was an ongoing struggle to keep them both upright.
Fortunately, Jou was at his side soon after, although he all but completely ignored Koushiro in favor of taking Mimi into his arms. Going so far as to scoop her up with little regard for the many pairs of eyes watching him closely. He looked nervous until her face came into view and he saw the peaceful expression on her face. Exhausted, but in no pain or distress. She stirred faintly as her head came to rest against his chest, recognizing who was carrying her even before she opened her eyes.
"Jou-kun." Fondness behind the weary tone. Stiffening a yawn, she closed her eyes and relaxing completely. "Remind me to kiss you when I wake up later."
He tensed just long enough to blush at her boldness. Then tried to conceal the fact by turning to Koushiro. "What happened to—wait, why are your eyes glowing?"
"You seriously didn't notice?" Taichi came up beside the boy, giving him a rough pat on the shoulder and not bothering to hide the smirk. "I know you only have eyes for Mimi, Jou, but...I mean, it's kind of obvious."
"And a long story." Koushiro added. "Kidnapping. Headbands. Complete Mastery of my Crest. I'll tell you all about it later." He promptly ignored the wide-eyed stares of everyone who was used to receiving extremely long-winded explanations from him on even the most basic of topics. Izumi Koushiro: the abridged version was...new. "Right now, we have far more pressing matters we need to discuss."
Taichi's eyebrow was already up. "Like what?"
"Like us."
Iori appeared around the corner, holding a similar lantern to the one in Koushiro's hand. It cast an eery shadow over his young features, twisting an otherwise indifferent expression into something far more ominous. His dark eyes scanned the occupants of the room, taking his time moving from Chosen to Chosen, and hid well the pleasure in finding shock across each of their faces. Only when Ken and Miyako appeared beside him did they snap out of it, reacting in precisely the manner he assumed they would.
Tensions rose. The digimon all rushed to their feet, all but the extremely large one rushing to their respective partners' sides. Taichi and Yamato were quick to assume the front, putting themselves in between the three Dark Chosen and their friends. Flanking the severely weakened Mimi in particular. Jou cradled the bearer of Purity protectively, eyes narrowed, while Sora hung back looking...surprisingly intrigued by something. Enough that Iori very nearly considered asking her directly.
"Um..." stepping forward, the girl formerly known as Nike could only offer a single, weak wave in return. "...hi?"
"What did you do to her?" Taichi immediately jumped to conclusions, expecting some cold or witty reply in turn.
What he got, however, was a fumbling raise of both hands in defense. "Nothing! I swear! I mean, I guess technically you could say it was more what she did to me."
"Why should we believe you?" Yamato countered, folding his arms across his chest. "You've already gone after one of us."
But it was Mimi who cut in, stirring just long enough in Jou's arms to murmur: "No, no, s'fine. Turns out she only kissed him by accident 'cause she actually wanted t' kiss me."
"That is not what I said!" Miyako screeched in such an un-Nike like fashion that it gave the rest of the Chosen pause. Moreso when they realized her face was now as red as Jou's.
"...okay, what's going on here?" Taichi shifted his weight to one foot, scratching at the back of his head. Though still on alert, confusion was gradually overtaking any other emotions he felt in that moment. He looked to Yamato, to Jou and Mimi, then finally to Koushiro. "I don't suppose you have any idea?"
"Several, in fact." The Bearer of Knowledge did not disappoint. Although Taichi wasn't sure if the ongoing glow in his eyes was more of a comfort or cause for unease. "But I think it's better you hear it from them first."
"Umm..." Ken spoke up for the first time, fidgeting awkwardly in place. "I'd be happy to explain as best as I can, but first...could you at least please ask her to stop staring at us like that?" Everyone turned to find him looking to Sora, who seemed to be alternating her gaze between him and Miyako with increasing amusement at whatever it was she was seeing. Something beyond the rest of their sight, apparently, judging by the faint reddish hue just barely outlining her person.
"I'm not staring," she stated innocently, then proceeded to prove it by shifting her attention to Jou and Mimi just long enough for her expression to not change in the slightest. Then back to Ken. The glow faded. "Besides, you can't blame us for being overly cautious. For all we know, this is another one of Dagomon's traps."
Taichi snapped his fingers at that as an idea came to him. He turned to Yamato. "Hey, yeah! So, what do you think? Are they serious, or are they trying to trick us?"
"How the heck should I know?" Yamato balked, recoiling back.
"Well, isn't that your Crest power? Seeing people's true intentions or something like that?"
"That's not how it works!"
"How do you know if you don't give it a try?"
"And just how am I supposed to do that?"
"I don't know! Try being friendly or something!"
"Are they always like this?" Iori questioned.
"Yes." The echo of no less than four voices—one of them half-asleep—rang out. Each as dry and certain as the last.
"I can't believe you idiots are the ones who supposedly saved two words," Iori murmured in response, though it didn't sound nearly as cold as before. He adjusted the weight of the lantern in his grasp before moving to join his fellow Dark Chosen. Who, in turn, were watching the unfolding display before them as Courage and Friendship stood toe-to-toe arguing about the merits of believing in one's Crest.
Movement on Angewomon's part drew everyone's attention just then, and the Dark Chosen turned to find her pointing what appeared to be an accusing finger their way. Until that moment, she had remained mostly in the shadows, but now the soft light of the multiple lanterns bathed the holy digimon in an ethereal glow. Making them feel that much smaller in her presence. The part of her face unhidden by her mask twisted into a deep scowl, and coupled with the way she was protectively cradling the little creature in her other arm...
Even Iori flinched.
"Duck!" She called out, firing a blast just as everyone around her—including the Dark Chosen—hit the ground. The resultant explosion was large enough for them to feel the immediate aftershock. Wind and dirt, mostly, and a few pebbles broken off from the large rock her attack struck.
A solitary figure emerged from the smoke. Brushing the dust from his black leather jacket and auburn hair.
"Hardly becoming of a holy digimon." The voice that erupted from Daisuke's mouth was not his own, a fact which every single person immediately tuned in on. The Dark Chosen, in particular, simultaneously gasped as they recoiled back. Faces paling. For his part, Dagomon gave little indication he even saw them, black pupils boring directly into Angewomon. "But then, as I told you mistress, we are not so different as you would prefer to believe."
"Where's Hikari?" Angewomon growled. Hand not yet lowering even a centimeter.
"She is safe. You have my word that I mean her no harm. Not now, nor in the foreseeable future. Think of this what you will, but I only speak the truth." Undeterred by the threatening aura directed his way, he subsequently turned to face his underlings. And frowned. "The same cannot be said for traitors."
A hand rose. Limp at the wrist. Until a sudden flick upward.
Iori, Ken, and Miyako were all lifted into the air by some unseen force, hovering for less than a second before being slammed into the nearby wall. Simultaneously crying out in pain. None lost consciousness, however, and Ken even managed to find the strength to turn his head and check on Miyako, still fearful after what happened to her the last time.
"Hey!" Jou shrieked.
Dagomon proceeded to walk right by him and the rest of the Chosen. Without so much as a glance their way, he flicked his hand a second time and sent a gust of wind so strong it blew them all back several meters.
"I will see to you in a minute, Chosen. This is a private matter."
Struggling. Grunts and groans. Gasps of air. Both younger than the other two and strongest affected by the Influence, Iori had barely any wiggle room. His muscles tensed to the point of torture, chest too tight to allow enough air to scream. Essentially paralyzed in place. Ken and Miyako fared only slightly better, able to more their heads and fingers but little else. Though all struggling ceased the moment Dagomon was upon them.
He said nothing at first. Staring each one of them down with a mixture of disgust and disappointment. Ken, in particular, warranted a second and even third glance as he scanned the boy up and down. Looking for something. Apparently finding it, but still far from pleased.
"I misjudged you most of all. Yours was the body that should have been easiest. Yours was the mind that should have been weakest. The heart was not meant to be a consideration."
As if proving his point, he turned his attention to Miayko, and Ken's struggling notably increased.
"And you..." Some of the bitterness softened. He shook his head. "Second to Light in potential. How ironic for your own mistake to lead to this moment." Although he seemed to reconsider his words almost immediately and added: "No. Not ironic. A directly chosen path leading you to your own Destiny. For one of your nature, it is almost impressive."
Miyako didn't feel very flattered by the compliment.
-o-
Taichi was getting tired of being thrown around like a rag doll. Wincing as he felt the telltale signs of his forehead wound opening again, he pulled himself into a low kneel before looking to the others.
Jou had practically crawled to where Mimi was now completely passed out on the floor. Unconscious, but only in sleep, judging from the subtle movement of her lips. Definitely in no condition to fight. He was saying something to her that she may or may not even be hearing at a volume too soft for Taichi to make out. Yamato seemed to being doing the same for Sora and Koushiro with much greater success. Dazed and momentarily stunned, the two of them were shaking their heads and gradually making their way to their feet.
The digimon, save for AtlurKabuterimon and Angewomon, had rolled into a group heap at the base of the far wall and were already working on untangling themselves. Angewomon had taken to the air, and seemed to have avoided the brunt of the attack. Poyomon still safe under her protection.
"Taichi." He turned back to see Agumon hobbling over to him. "What do we do? Should we attack?"
He bit his lower lip in frustration. "I don't...I don't know." He looked to Dagomon, still occupying Daisuke's body. Still ignoring the lot of them in favor of giving his former underlings a very stern scolding. The Dark Chosen looked terrified, and while they might have been enemies up until that point, he couldn't help feeling pity for the trio. "He's Dagomon...but he's also Daisuke. We can't attack one without hurting the other."
"That's not true." Koushiro was holding the side of his head as he spoke up. His eyes were still glowing, albeit at a dimmer luminosity than before. (Idly, Taichi wondered if he planned to turn them off anytime soon. Cool as it was, it was also more than a little unsettling to continue seeing.) "It might be Daisuke-san, but it's not actually him. Same thing with the others."
"...say that again?" Taichi raised an eyebrow.
"What I mean to say is that...they're not human. Any of them. Not like you and I." His legs wobbled a little as he approached the Chosen leader, coming to a crouch beside him. Volume little more than a hushed whisper audible only to those around them, less Dagomon hear what they were talking about. "I've seen their Code. I still see it. They may look human, but they're only copies. Scans of the originals that Dagomon must have created. Only twisted and molded to his convenience."
"They're...copies?" Taichi's eyes widened.
Koushiro nodded, "For all we know, their Real World counterparts have no idea what's going on. They won't remember any of it, no matter what happens. Even if we attack."
Taichi's expression darkened. What Koushiro was telling him should be the opening they were looking for, and yet...he looked to the Dark Chosen. Watching them struggle. Their expressions. And he made a decision: "No. You're wrong."
"I know what I-"
"I don't care." He practically hissed back, sending a heated gaze Koushiro's way. Enough to startle the boy and make him realize his error. One heartbeat. Two. On the third, he took a deep breath and willed himself calm. Koushiro was only trying to help. Certainly, he hadn't meant to imply what Taichi thought he was implying. And his frustration was better suited being directed at the real problem. Dagomon. "So maybe they were created here. That doesn't make them any less human."
"But the Code says-"
It was Sora who cut in next. "Koushiro-kun, turn off your stupid Crest for a minute and look at them." Hands went to her hips as she, too, sent him a stern glare. Once she was certain she had the boy's full attention, she directed it towards the Dark Chosen with a sharp jerk of her head. "Human or not, they're alive and real. They feel just like we do. Pain. Fear. Love."
"Love?" Koushiro honed in on that word in particular.
"You heard me."
The immediate silence that followed was tense. He pondered over their words. Looking between his friends...to the digimon...to the Dark Chosen. Comparing each of their Codes. How different they all were, but also the similarities. Mostly between the humans and digimon, but...to a degree...the Dark Chosen as well. Until that moment, he had focused exclusively on just how nonhuman they were. It never dawned on him that there might actually be something in between human and copy. Between flesh and data. Something even the Code of the digital world couldn't label.
He thought of the moment Miyako fell. Of the panic in her eyes just before the light faded from them. The way Ken dashed into the room so soon after, somehow knowing what happened. How he'd held her. Called her by her real name. A name he had seen in memories. Flashes of a life not his own.
-or was it really that simple? To claim the memories were not his just because he hadn't lived through them directly. They certainly had affected him enough to influence his way of thinking. His heart. Enough that he'd managed to fight off most of the Influence better than the others, even without Mimi's purification. Mere poorly rendered data couldn't do something like that.
And reading said data wouldn't give Koushiro the answer he needed.
So he closed his eyes and took a deep, long breath. Exhaling slowly. When he opened them again, the purple glow had faded completely.
Just in time to see something move among the shadows: "Taichi-san, over there!"
The group turned and saw a flicker of...something. There and gone in an instant. Leaving behind only the after image of something that vaguely reminded them of the static on a television channel that had lost its signal.
"There is is again!" Gomamon called out, using his flipper to indicate to their right.
A much stronger manifestation this time. Hovering in the air about six meters up, it gave the appearance of some sort of streak or crack. Only it wasn't solid. Shades of grays, blacks, and whites peppered the vague image for the five seconds' time it lingered before fading. Slower than the last one.
"Over there!"
Piyomon's cry was loud enough to even draw Dagomon's attention, who looked to them first with annoyance before realizing they were not staring at him, but above. Following their gaze, he saw a large, static-like crack streaking across the top of the cavern wall. Far above the Dark Chosen. Hard to make out in the shadows, but the white dots standing out all the more because of them. Unlike the Chosen, he seemed less surprised or mystified by their appearance. Placing a hand on his hips, he took a step forward to get a better look.
"Too soon," Lips pressed together in a thin line. Brow furrowing. Countless thoughts known only to him running through his mind before a decision was made. He stepped back, and with the movement, the Dark Chosen fell to the ground. Iori gasped for air. Ken on his knees. Miyako resigning herself to claiming the floor as a new friend. Dagomon then turned back around and took a step towards the Chosen. Then another. "The plan has changed. There is too much conflict in a single world. This will have to be dealt with quickly."
Around them, the temperature seemed to drop a degree with every step he took.
"Deal with this!" Angewomon was the first to act, growling as she rose higher into the air. Heeding no warnings from the children beneath her, she pressed her palms together in front of her, spreading them out as a line of bright light appeared. This, she sent forward, aiming to strike Dagomon directly. "Holy Charm!"
Dagmon didn't so much as flinch as the attack headed straight form him, and it was apparent why the moment a large fireball flew out from the shadows, striking Angewomon's attack mid-air, canceling it out in a blinding flash. He continued forward at a leisure pace. Unfazed by the gust of wind. Nor the sudden appearance of the large, fire-wielding Flamedramon at his side.
"You'll have to do better than that."
Three more sihouettes appeared, each stepping into the light at their master's side. Digmon. Aquilamon. Stingmon. Their coloring muted to an unholy shadow of their ancient selves
"No..." Ken let out a pained gasp at the sight of his partner. Minimal as their time together had been, it did little to ease the sting of betrayal.
"Taichi?" Agumon asked again, looking nervous.
Though not nearly as nervous as his partner, who was gripping his digivice so tightly his knuckles whitened. "Can you evolve?"
"I think so."
"Me too." Piyomon jumped up, wings flapping as she nodded in Sora's direction. "I'm ready."
"And me," Gomamon added.
"Count me in," Gabumon stood by Yamato's side, shoulders tensing in preparation for the battle to come.
"Mimi..." Tanemon tried poking at her sleeping partner, earning little more than a moan in response.
"Five more...minutes..." Mimi murmured, barely reacting otherwise to Tanemon's pokes.
"It's alright, Tanemon," Jou attempted to reassure her, despite his own lingering concerns. For Mimi to have been drained so completely that she couldn't even tell what was going on...what happened to her? "We'll take care of them. You just look after her, alright?"
Steeling her resolve, Tanemon gave a sharp nod.
Five Chosen stood up. Taichi. Yamato. Sora. Jou. Koushiro. Each of them with a digivice in hand. Their resolves weak, but not yet broken as they simultaneously called to their partners. Agumon. Gabumon. Piyomon. Gomamon. AtlurKabuterimon. Light of Evolution burst from the palms of the first four, bathing their partners in a warm glow. Power surging through their bodies as they felt the strength of their respective partner's greatest attributes. Taichi's Courage. Yamato's Friendship. Sora's Love. Jou's Reliability. It flooded the corridor as each of their Adult forms came into being:
"...Greymon!"
"...Garurumon!"
"...Birdramon!"
"...Ikkakumon!"
The ceiling above began to crack and warp as the larger creatures burst through, their partners just barely able to take cover in the nearby doorways as the room filled with a torrent of falling rocks. Dagomon stiffened a yawn in the middle of it all as his Dark Digimon did all the work, attack after attack sending any potential dangers away. Pleased by their immediate success, he gave a single nod in command:
"Get them."
o*0*o
Drip.
Drip.
Hikari felt numb. Not just physically, but the whole of her being. Long passed the point where she'd ceased to allow herself to believe this was all some terrible nightmare she would wake up from. That there was any chance Takeru would open his eyes. That the digital world in any form would take pity on them. Save them both.
Drip.
Drip.
She'd lost track of how long she'd stared at his face. Watched the last of the color drain from his cheeks. Turning ashen. His hands felt like blocks of ice, even though she was pretty sure her fingers had lost any remaining semblance of warmth themselves.
"It wasn't supposed to be this way," she told him, her voice soft. Strangely even, given how badly she'd been trembling a short time ago. "You were supposed to be here. Protect me. Your promise...I knew about it. I've always known."
She saw his face as it was that night on the balcony. Still so flush with life. Remembering the moment they'd shared Crests. Not out of desperation. Not even out of need. A purely innocent coincidence stemming from their bond. How easy it had been for him to reach out to her like that. How his presence felt. Not just his Hope, either. Him. Takeru. The boy she met under the most bizarre of circumstances as children. Whom not even distance could keep from strengthening his friendship with her. Text messages sent daily. Talking about everything and nothing. His voice over the phone. Private words she'd never told anyone else about exchanged. Fingers lightly trailing down the side of her cheek. Reunion hugs in front of the school. The warmth of his comforter around her shoulders as he pulled her back from the brink of Darkness.
Things she would never feel again.
Drip
Her shoulders slumped and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his chest. Shutting her eyes tight. Willing the world around her to go away. All of them. Real. Digital. Dark. None of it matter anymore. She could have been taken right there and then, and she would no longer fight it. She couldn't.
For the first time, she felt truly hopeless.
Drip.
o*0*o
Something was wrong.
The corridor was a distant memory now, ceiling obliterated and walls crumbling. It served to allow the aerial digimon more space to maneuver, but little else in the way of advantage. Stingmon and Aquilamon were creatures of flight as well, having little difficulty teaming up against Birdramon each time she tried to wind up another fireball. Greymon, meanwhile, was slowly swatting air that should have been Flamedramon, but the digimon was leaping around much too fast for him to catch. Twice, he'd managed to strike Garurumon when the wolf digimon tried to come to his aid. Ikkakumon and Digmon were in the process of clashing horns, the former already sporting a pretty serious gash from where he'd earlier been unable to avoid a relay of his own attack without leaving Mimi and Tanemon unguarded.
Their movements were slow, sluggish, and uncoordinated. Flamedramon and the others shouldn't have been any higher than Adult level themselves, and yet it was as if the Chosen digimon were up against four Perfects. Maybe even Ultimates.
"Taichi, this isn't working!" Yamato cried as he dove out of the way a split second before Stingmon's drill bore into the rocky wall behind him. The resultant spray peppered his skin, and he held up a hand to shield his face from the worst of it. Wincing as he felt a few small cuts appear.
"I know that!" Taichi, himself, wasn't faring much better. Currently pinned beneath Koushiro and Jou, the three of them had just barely managed to avoid a large explosion from a clash of Birdramon and Flamedramon's fire attacks.
Twin groans from above added very little to the conversation.
He'd already lost sight of the Dark Chosen, having shouted for them to take cover once the fight began. Whether or not they'd complied was up to them, but he wasn't about to expect them to help when it was clear their digimon were no longer under their control. At one point, he could have sworn he saw the girl Miyako running off with Poyomon, but he had little time to question motives before a familiar cry had run out, stoping him cold.
Sora.
It was Birdramon's last minute thinking that saved the girl from being crushed beneath a barrage of rocks. Breathless and shaken, she thanked her digimon for the rescue before sending her back out again. Only to watch as she took another direct hit from Flamedramon, the two of them sailing past in a literal heated fury of attacks and counter attacks.
Letting out a sharp exhale of his own, Taichi pulled himself out of the Chosen heap and rose to his knees. Just enough for him to punch the ground. Hard. A wave of pain shot up his arm. He ignored it. Balling his hands even tighter and gritting his teeth. One by one, the Adult digimon would get up and strike just long enough to be shot down again. Even Angewomon and AtlurKabuterimon, in their Perfect forms, were struggling. They kept aiming for Dagomon and were blocked at each and every turn.
Taichi no longer bothered warning them about not harming who he once thought to be Daisuke. Knowing it wouldn't make a difference.
None of it was making a difference.
Not the ball of fire Birdramon sent Stingmon's way, only to have Digmon's armour take the brunt of it, shaking off the flames as if they were little more than a tickle to him. Not the several bites and scratches of Garurumon as he went straight for Aquilamon's neck, only to be sent back into Greymon as the dinosaur digimon was winding up an attack of his own. Not even the increased appearance of those static...things. Interferences, Koushiro had called them, although in Taichi's opinion, they didn't seem to be doing a very good job interfering with anything. Even Dagomon seemed inclined to avoid or ignore them.
Loss after loss was piling up around them. The sounds of friends of scared...in pain...caught off guard...uncertain...in need...it all echoed in Taichi's mind until everything around him seemed to reach an unsettling buzz. He couldn't think. He needed everything to be quiet. So he could figure out what to do next. Except he didn't know. Attacking wasn't working. Fighting wasn't working. It was too late to run away. Everything just seemed so...so...
"Hopeless?"
Taichi opened his eyes to see a pair of black and white boots standing in front of them. He followed the attacked pair of legs up...up...to find the face of Daisuke staring down at him with a look Taichi would have never seen on his friend.
"A feeling I know well, Courage." Bending down, Dagomon made a point of staring directly into Taichi's eyes. The boy found himself inexplicably frozen as he stared back. Into empty pools of...nothing. No reflection. No emotion. No light. "But I have leanred to embrace it. Thrive. Use that feeling to the best of my advantage. Because I know what it truly means. Although..." Head tilting to one side. Curious. The corners of his lips twisted into a cruel smile. "...yes. Yes, there it is. You know it well, don't you? I can see it."
He wanted to protest. To argue Dagomon's words. But he found himself with neither voice nor truthful argument. He could only swallow loudly as the being continued on.
"The corruption of your own digimon by your own hand." Dagomon rose to a stand, head slowly turning as he took in the destruction around him. The fallen Chosen. The ongoing battle, so clearly one-sided. Angewomon was unconscious, on the verge of devolution. AtlurKabuterimon was hovering over her, trying to keep her from the onslaught of Stingmon's deflects from Ikkakumon's Harpoon Vulcan. Pathetic, really. How they could fall so easily without even knowing the reason why. "The betrayal of a friend. Rejection of a loved one. Selfish desires. Secrets kept. Priorities-"
"Stop." Taichi hissed, as if the word alone caused him pain.
"Then submit." Nose tilted slightly upward, he stared down the Chosen of Courage as if he were contemplating stepping on him right there and then. "Your allies are falling. Your world is shattering. Darkness has already won. It is your persistence alone that creates these distortions-"
As if on cue, Taichi saw another one streak across the air behind Dagomon's shoulder.
"-and your presence this new world rejects. Submit yourselves and your Influence, and I promise you the end will come quick."
Taichi trembled with rage. Scathing words burning the tip of his tongue. All of them dying before he could utter a single syllable. His eyes shut tight as he tried to block out Dagmon's voice. Words he...he knew to be true. Because of how much they hurt. Of the reality before them now. Could they really keep this up? Fight a losing battle. One which the world around them had already decided upon.
Cold. Dark. He could see his breath with every shuttered exhale. Clouds of smoke wafting into the air, dissipating into a seemingly perpetual nightmare
Wrong. It was...it was all wrong.
And yet...for a single, fleeting instant...Taichi wondered if there was any point left in continuing.
o*0*o
Drip...
…
Silence.
Hikari's shoulders relaxed. As did the grip on his hand, letting it fall back to his side. She sat up. Her movements slow. Almost automatic. Her expression was blank. Eyes staring at his face now, but seeing it as it was then. The balcony. Recalling that feeling of being surrounded by his Hope. The rush of energy he'd sent her way for no other reason than he could. And the momentary concern in return that even that would be too much. Relief when she realized what she could do to help.
The Crest of Light brings Life to this World.
Just as her fingers reached out to brush the tips of his hair, Hikari saw them began to glow. Pink at first, but brightening until they looked nearly white. She gasped inaudibly, turning her hand over once, ignoring the smears of red still staining her skin, then lowered it back down again. Resting it atop his chest. Watching as the glow began to spread over his body. His face. His hair. Down his arms and legs, to his fingers and toes. Highlighting the deep gash still prevalent. Coagulated blood.
His hair glistened. His skin washed out.
He inhaled once. Sharply. Chest rising just enough for her to feel it.
At the same time, she left out a small whimper of pain at the phantom wound in her own stomach.
o*0*o
Dagomon waited.
Taichi didn't move.
He waited some more.
Background noise captured very little of his interest. He heard attacks and he heard crashes. He had seen enough already to know which side was winning. His Dark Chosen were powerful in their own right, but the very hopelessness that continued to weight upon the Chosen only increased the gap in strength between them. For they felt no such weight, driven by the negative energies of Darkness itself.
Taichi still didn't move.
But his patience would not be in vain, as eventually, the Chosen child pulled himself back into a seated position. His remained bowed in an apparent signal of defeat. Slowly, he began to rise. His movements weak and unsteady. One foot pushing upward. Then the other. Swaying lightly against the threat of vertigo. Dagomon did not mind waiting until the boy was to his feet. Even then, body language continued to read of humility and defeat.
Until he finally lifted his head, giving Dagomon few view of the renewed fire in his eyes.
"I'll show you a quick end!"
Taichi's fist pulled back, sending a punch aimed directly at Dagomon's startled face.
