Sephirothmon = Sakkakumon

Mercuremon = Mercurymon

Calamaramon = Calmaramon

Chapter 45: Digital World: deceiving and reflecting Metal

His fingers were racing over the keyboard, needling holes at the programs where he could. There were too many Datamon here, most of them willing, that he was under no illusions that whatever damage he did would hold long. He didn't really care. Even a stone in His Majesty's path looked tempting at this point.

Is this was going crazy feels like?

For all that he had had a hand in the majority of the fortress' programs, harming them was far more difficult than he'd thought. For the life of him, he couldn't understand how the girl had, judging by appearances, managed to hijack the transportation system on accident and then further proceeded to take one of the most secured 'objects' out of her hold, also on accident.

Risking a side glance to the monitor, he was treated to the sight of the Wind Spirit stabbing his Majesty's eye out. He knew what his eyes told him, but he had difficulty to believe it.

That eye – isn't that? No way – That's-

It was! His Majesty just lost his snake eye. No more far sight! If she'd hit good, that wouldn't heal either.

For a long moment, he just gaped, then clammed down on a burst of hysteric laughter.

Without that eye...

Without the gift that allowed him to see everything in the digital world when he so pleased, His Majesty was actually-

He no longer had the time to waste on laughing. Without that eye, there were a lot more things he could still damage.

First things first, he finished accessing the tightest security locks, put in the stolen password, and watched a bar load on screen. One percent. Five percent. Nine percent.

Not allowing himself the pleasure of watching the cracking of the lock, which was holding down that what his Majesty desired most, the Spirits, he switched chairs and terminals and went to work on the next thing that without those cursed eyes wouldn't be easily repaired.

He had given the wrong time for operation Nobel Revival already, so there was that, but not even in the same dimension anymore now now, there was nothing he could do to further delay it. DarkQinglongmon, still existing in its very own sub plane of existence, was going to die soon. The sovereign had access rights to the digital world that no one else had, and the ruling voice in the number, size and state of gates because of it. To open a gate for - and subsequently convert - something the size of the fortress to real world matter was an act that was too costly for even a sovereign, though. The fallen digital ruler was going to die soon. Not even, if it were still possible, aborting the process would save the dragon's life.

As it was, the gate had already been opened, the fortress and everyone inside already being downloaded right now.

Biting his thump, the young man stared at the numbers on the screen.

Saving Qinglongmon wasn't possible at this point. Not that he could see. Not with the limited time he had to think about it. Qinglongmon had become DarkQinglongmon anyway, so there was also the question of if it even should be saved. It was a holy dragon and those were absurdly strong. Making a digimon dark evolve was one thing, turning it back into its holy counterpart much more difficult. In fact, he didn't even know if it was possible. With what he had done (or not done), he didn't have any moral ground to stand on anymore, but unleashing a dark digimon like that to wreak havoc did register on his very high set bars of 'consequences of relevance'.

With that in mind, there was something-

Briefly, he wondered what kind of person it made him that he decided on the behalf of a stranger that they didn't want to live the life they had and pulled the life support. He decided it hardly mattered. Having one more life on his tally, even that of a holy digimon, was hardly a drop in the bucket at this point. Even more so compared to the countless lives he might take by implication if he let DarkQinglongmon go.

It's all only hypothetical, though. It's not like I even have the choice.

What he had instead was this: pull the 'life support' and kill it early to delay the plans of the one who put it in life support in the first place or don't.

It was hardly a choice and he had already been cracking the program paths before he had made the conscious decision that would result in killing DarkQinglongmon and leave the Fortress stranded somewhere between the real and digital world. At least temporarily.

That was going to be a joke. His Majesty's grand invasion getting lost on the way. How humiliating. The thought brought a grin to his face and he couldn't resist glancing at the other screens. Ninetyseven percent. On anotherr, a butterfly digimon and a plant digimon were at the end of their rope, His Majesty the most furious he had ever see.

Hundred percent.

The prisons fell open and almost half of the elemental cores that his Majesty had gone to personally hunt for the sake of completely and absolutely conquering and ruling multiple worlds at once escaped in streaks of light.

It was wonderful and satisfying to watch. The result of his hard work and the price he'd pay for with his life.

If there was something the Spirits of Steel couldn't stand then that would be the high and mighty attitude of self righteous heroes. If they would tell this to their fellow legacies, they'd roll their eyes and mutter about backstabbing, ambition, that there were things that could be too organized (or that organizing was just simply useless sometimes) and annoyances. Even the Light Spirits, ever so practical and inconsiderate to selected circumstances, would eye them oddly for being painstakingly nitpicking about the smallest details every hour of the day.

But those imbeciles just didn't get it.

Structure was the key to success, knowledge a virtue, and that included knowledge about what was eaten for breakfast, where the food came from, who was where at what time and where they planned to go and how to make all run smoothly. Those details could be decisive in a battle. The more knowledge they had the better they could outmaneuver a potential enemy. In their roles in life, enemies were things that could appear at any moment and something that one was better to assume would appear any second. Therefore it was only logical to be as attentive to details every hour of the day as when battle heightened senses cataloged everything automatically.

They'd think the others would know better, all of them, given that as Sephirothmon they had driven the human hosts almost to ruin precisely by paying attention to details, deducing weakness from that and using it against them. Psychological warfare made half the battle. At least.

Out of his fellows, no one had an appreciation for the fine art of deception and mind games, always preferring to fight like barbarians and crushing the enemy into the ground with brute force.

Mercuremon would sniff and pretend not to be associated with them.

Of course those situations were all hypothetical. They might know the other spirits and spirit holders well enough to predict their actions and every two words stumbling out of their mouths, but that knowledge was purely intellectual. Not even once had they interacted with the others close enough for casual behavior. Not since the times of AncientWisetmon at least and they were not inclined to let those times count. The years spend serving Cherubimon didn't count either since they hadn't been in their right mind then.

Still, just because the scenarios were all hypothetical didn't mean they weren't true. It was for those reasons that they had decided if they were ever put in the unfortunate situation where they would have to call for a host, they'd choose one who understood where they came from.

Someone who mirrored them and who reflected back at the world what the world threw at them. The Spirits of Steel didn't want adaptability (though that too) as much as they valued the mental fortitude to give as good as they got exactly as they got. The ability to be willing to strike back in the same manner as they were struck at, no matter how underhanded, no matter how repulsive the strategies, was a talent that wasn't to be underestimated.

Deception was one half of their characteristics after all and deceptions could be applied in many forms in many places, all for the sake of giving them the best possible advantage. Moral high ground was good so long as it lasted, but not a necessity and definitely not something to plan detours around.

They were Steel, reflecting and fascinating to look at, but deadly.

Those were the requirements they had for a host. The traits that could not be done without. Traits they had not encountered in their own world or in the human counterpart.

That they sensed the presence of such a person as soon as they snapped free of their confinement was a lucky chance they didn't want to know the odds of.

They resented how weak they were without a body, however they were not above admitting that there were certain advantages in being small and fast.

Blowing past lowly digimon, streaking through twisted corridors, spiraling up stories, they knew where they wanted to go, the presence standing out like gold amongst dirt.

Covered in dirt too, perhaps, Mercuremon mused as they laid eyes on the one they had chosen. The one they had decided to give the chance that their presence would bring instead of withdrawing into the safety of the female human's device, which certainly would have accommodated for their presence.

(Though, under circumstances they had to consider that maybe their choice was not as uninfluenced as they proclaimed it was. In that room, there had been at most two devices. The Wood, Water and Earth Spirits were just as powerless as Steel and no matter how they calculated, there was over a fifty-fifty chance of being stuck together in one of the two devices with at least one of the others and they could really do without listening to proverbs every other minute or to childish swearing or to self compliments...The other three could do on their own.)

The human they had chosen was filthy, run down, unkempt. He seemed to keep to a minimum of hygiene and decorum at least, though. Now he was staring a them, eyes round and shocked.

"Shit," the human cursed, voice low and shaking, "what are they doing here?"

That would have to go, they decided. Swearing was very undignified.

The human looked warily at them, then carefully edged around them and glanced out the door they had come from. Judging by the intake of breath, he discovered the digimon that had been temporarily knocked out by their own stupidity when they had tried to strike at the Spirits and instead hit each other.

The human stared at them, quizzical and angry. "How the hell do these things operate? The others are all gone. Why not this one? Damn." The eyes took them in, sharp and calculating, the brain behind them working. Cautiously, the human stretched a hand out at them and when they didn't move away, eyed them critically.

Their glow faded, leaving them as two figurines that nonetheless radiated power. The human swore under his breath again, quieter this time, stuffed them into pockets, and sat back down to let his hands do things they still needed to do.

"Why do you not simply ask, Yutaka Himi?" They questioned, voice audible only to the human, who jumped so hard he hit his knees on the terminal.

"...Who's...there?" He demanded, tone decidedly different, full of fear, true fear and terror, but also a decided lack of regret beneath it.

"We are Mercuremon and Sephirothmon, the Spirits of Steel."

Silence, then the human dug them out of his pockets and stared again. "What?" It was more a statement than a question.

They decided to interpreter it as a question nonetheless. "You were asking how we operate and why it is that we are here while the others have, as according to you, left." Mercuremon pushed to the forefront of their consciousness. "The matter is quite simple. Due to our imprisonment, we lack energy, and war has descended, making the need for a host apparent. We chose you, Yutaka Himi, sibling of the host of one of our fellows."

The human's expression blanked. "Excuse me?" Mercuremon found light amusement in it.

"As I told you. We chose you as our host."

"If you are capable of thought, then what are you still doing here? His Majesty is hunting you. There won't be any second chances at escape," he said, low and hard, demonstrating a certain degree of adaptability.

They were pleased. It looked more and more like this human deserved the chance they took when they picked him. "Did you not place your betrayal at the best possible timing? We can comprehend that much. We sense you did not do it for reasons that are light, nor do you place any value in the morality of the choices you make for reaching that reason." Mercuremon's tone was approving and casual. "You are the first human we have encountered with the traits a host of ours would need. We want that. No more reason, no less."

"That's all?"Demanded the human, eyebrows lowering into something hard. Doubtlessly, he was thinking hard. That was good. The Spirits of Steel preferred consideration to impulsiveness, caution to leaps of faith.

"Yes." There was no need to sugarcoat the truth into something that looked more tempting when it wasn't. Metal reflected nothing but the truth back. "We don't care for more and I expect you don't either. In this partnership, there is usage for both of us. You have a body, we have the power." Not much, not now, but enough. And moreover, they could challenge the human's energy as well, conduct it into the needed forms. That too, was power. "What do you say, Yutaka Himi, Tommy Himi's only brother?"

The human was thinking, still, weak body tense. Mercuremon read fear, oh so much terror, apprehension, dislike, rejection at the idea, but it didn't stop him from considering the deal. "I won't be controlled," said the human, tone rough with absolution as something went out of his shoulders. Resignation. Using advantages given no matter the personal discomfort. Yes, this human seemed fitting. "Fine," he gritted out. "But only if you have ways to make us escape, because I won't accept that His Majesty gets one of you back just for this."

Mercuremon smiled, though his material form didn't change at all from being a little object. "If we can make the changes necessary to your body..."

Narrowed eyes stared down on them as they were held in bony hands. There was no trust there and a lot of suspicion. "What changes?"

"Those necessary for evolution. It won't be anything visible," Mercuremon answered smoothly, not an inch of regret at what he didn't mention. It wasn't relevant. If the accepted this partnership then there was no reason to elaborate on what those mentioned necessities described. It was the fine print. The irrelevant details that stood on the path.

Yutaka Himi wouldn't need to be bothered with the knowledge when it only cause trouble.

The human gave grudging permission, understanding that they wouldn't ask for it if it were nonsense, and both Spirits sank into his hands, clicking onto their new host's data code, where Mercuremon promptly began setting up the preparations for evolution and Sephirothmon shut down to recover the energy captivity had sucked from them.

Lanamon and Calamaramon had high standards, unlike a certain other duo who had settled for the first potential host that had crossed their path those few years, no matter how much below average.

But whatever. Let them be stupid. Fit them just right.

The Spirits of Water had better things to do.

At this moment, it was looking for a hole in the network. Firewalls were annoying. There was someone beyond it, they could feel it, who would fit them beautifully. Someone who was like them and who knew how to be amazing.

And in more than just appearances.

Looks were good, but a true idol shined from the inside. A true idol stood steady in the ups and down of popularity, and whatever else less important things life might throw. Someone who was living, truly living, on the elaborate stage that drew many eyes and not just holding up a status quo, someone who never stood still.

They had noticed someone like that as soon as they had been in a state to notice things, and were eager with anticipation to meet them. A host, a partner, someone to fight with and not someone they controlled. Someone who lived up to the high level they were. Someone who was capable of holding up a three way balance. Someone with whom they'd shine and who was at the same time like a tsunami.

Lanamon was giddy, Calamaramon was steady in her presence, expectations high, and they both grew more and more frustrated with this stupid wall that kept them from meeting that person. Who'd it be? What'd she be like?

If that stupid wall wouldn't be there-

They poked at it, searching for holes to slip through, restlessly, even when every passing moment drained more of their already depleted energy and sleep encroached like a heavy blanket.

Somewhere, distantly, the Spirits of Water were aware that they weren't alone, presences as old as their memories and as familiar as age, colored in the sense of Earth and Wood, grazing through the infinite depths of the network until they were so far separated that they lost all sense of them.

Time became relative, lost in their submerging consciousness, and eventually they weren't even awake enough to form coherent thought, lost to drifting around in the endless streams of data.

They felt disappointed, impatient, but in the end it didn't matter, for since the moment AncientMermaimon had decided with the others to pass her legacy down in the form of bodiless spirits, the search for a suitable host had been programmed into their data. So long as they existed and so long as data existed, the programs that shuffled data would lead them to what their search instincts had locked onto.

It was just a matter of time, they were convinced.

It was only a matter of time so long as they weren't caught again by the programs that were doubtlessly searching through all the limitless data of the net to find them to chain them again.

A matter of time.

A game of chance.

It was like seeing the sun for the first time after years of darkness when air rushed against her skin. Kari fell to the floor, free. There was no substance sticking to her, no acid irritating her skin and trying to eat her alive.

Panic and boneless terror still swallowed her mind, but with every breath that she was able to take, it subdued. One, two, three, four...

Kari counted, needing something to focus on against he stream of sensations that were still crashing down on her. Her neck and throat hurt. Her back burned. One breath after the next, her heart pounding in her ears and adrenaline rushing her blood, Kari tried to get herself into a semblance of control.

It sat in her bones, was written into her life that being useless was the worst thing that could happen to her or to the others or to Tailmon-

Tailmon!

Beaten, still trying to protect her, the snap of bones breaking-

Kari's thoughts snapped into focus with fear driven clarity, her head shooting up and around to look for her partner. There were many digimon moving wildly around, fighting chaotically, the large chamber they were in was sparely lit, the blackness of the walls gleamed, but Kari's eyes just drifted over them without comprehension.

Her eyes fell on a crater so smooth, it looked carved from an artist and the fleck of white inside it, unmoving and uncared for.

Kari scrambled to her feet, not noticing the battle raging around her, the attacks flying even as one distant explosion made her fall and scrap her knees. She couldn't seem to get her legs under her and crawled over to look at the center.

She screamed, high pitched, and tumbled down the crater in her hurry. If she got more bruises, she didn't notice.

Tailmon's white fur was flecked with red, her head most of it and her tail was twisted at unnatural angles. Just by looking, her breathing seemed painful.

"Tailmon!"

Kari picked her up, careful with moving her, and checked the wounds. How much was broken, she couldn't tell but for the head wound was till bleeding. Helplessly she glanced around for something - or someone- to help her, but what she found was nothing but a battle.

It was chaos. As far as Kari could see, there weren't any defined sides. Large snakes attacked humanoid archers, centaurs stomped on those too close and seemed to be the only ones somewhat having a formation. On one end of the hall, a storm of rose petals and lightning raged, followed and overwhelmed by a wave of darkness. The wind was violent enough to tear even at Kari in her protected position.

A form stumbled down into the crater and Kari had to blink several times to realize that she knew the person.

"Mimi!"

Mimi looked close to crying, her expression angry as she picked herself up, shoving an unconscious body that had fallen on her when they had come stumbling down off. She had scratches, her hair torn like she had survived a hurricane, and was gasping for every breath so hard she almost seemed to be passing out.

Kari felt suddenly close to crying herself. There wasn't any help. Only more that needed help. Kari would have to deal on her own. But there was so much blood. How much blood did a digimon have -

Bleeding. She'd have to stop that. Where did it come from? She needed material to stop the bleeding. Just once she tried doing it like in the movies, tearing at her shirt for fabric, and when it didn't work, stripped the entire shirt and used that. It seemed to work some, because the shirt wasn't soaking through and Tailmon wasn't bursting into data.

"We - need to get away from here," Mimi's voice eventually penetrated her limited vision, still out of breath. "We aren't going to make it like this," her breath hitched, full of more frustration. Mimi was like that. When she had cried and whined and it didn't help, she got angry. The elder girl helped her tying Kari's shirt to Tailmon's head and, though with shaking fingers, picked up the cat's tail to lay it across her torso where it wouldn't swing around even with Tailmon in Kari's arms.

"I-" said Kari, because until now she hadn't thought about where she was or how she had gotten there. But with Tailmon in as stable a state as she could give now and not in immediate danger of dying, she could think about it. She shook her head to clear it. "How did you get here? I thought Koji was..."

Kari remembered the person Mimi had dragged along with her and let her eyes fall on him. That was Koji. There was blood tickling on his face as well, but not much. He had fought and come out like that? He didn't seem to be moving any time soon.

Mimi glared at the boy, though her anger didn't seem to be directed at him in person. "I don't know! One moment Palmon and I were in a nice, peaceful field, then the next we were here." She shook her digivice in angrily in her hands. "Only that it got to have something to do with this, because it even saved one of them." She pointed at Koji. "And somehow Palmon warp evolved without me even being good for a normal one. It's being odd!"

Kari bit her lip, not daring to hope. "Who else is here? Or are you alone?"

They were sitting in the middle of a battle royal, attacks flying over their heads and the rim of the crater, shockwaves battering the air and they were able to sit down and talk, undisturbed.

Kari wondered how long it would last and felt fear of the unknown crawl down her stomach. What good would it be if Tailmon wasn't going to die from her injuries only for them to be defenseless against someone who decided they were worth attacking?

"I don't know," Mimi repeated, helpless, afraid and angry. "At first only me, then I got that girl out, and they everything went too fast for me to follow, except that I think we were trying to flee and it didn't work. Then all of a sudden its this chaos." She stared at her digivice, then glanced at the raging battle. "Do you have any ideas? We can't run, not with this tall dark and scary guy being really angry with -" She gestured in the direction of another lighting strike. A boom followed that vibrated into the ground.

Kari pulled out her digivice, looking at it. In the past, whenever they had been in a pinch, the holy device would give them some kind of measure to fight back. Tailmon was in no condition to fight, Mimi's had already worked oddly and that wasn't enough. What else could they do?

Mimi held hers next to it. With Palmon evolved, it was glowing a bright green at the moment. What could they do with them? What could they do at all?

Kari hadn't felt so much despair in a long time.

This is the chapter for January, just barely in time like always.

Just in case you have forgotten or have never watched Frontier, Yutaka Himi is Tommy's elder brother. They didn't get really along in the flashbacks of the anime, because Yutaka thought Tommy spoiled and Tommy thought Yutaka was mean and jealous. But that was about the extend of their differences and during the battle with Sephirothmon Tommy came to realize why his brother behaved as he did and changed his opinion on him. In other words, Yutaka is an attentive, intelligent and strict older brother. Basically. What I have done to the one in this fic will of course be mentioned in the future, so of course he's a bit different.

My thanks go to smfan for beta-reading and giving me perspective that can really only make this story better.

Do you have suggestions? Critique? Likes? Dislikes? Complains? Or things you just plain noticed?