The Digital Edda

Book One: The Dark World

Chapter Four

It was the final night of Obon. The moon had lost its inviting, lustrous shine and a ghoulish opaqueness replaced it, bathing Odaiba in an uncomfortable white that reminded Kari of dead skin. As it climbed into the sky, a mortuary cold followed it. Standing water froze. Rime mushroomed on exposed metal, highlighting objects cemetery gray in the moonlight. Celebrations were held indoors, or people huddled around fires lit in steel drums nursing drinks with gloved hands, muttering misery, casting glances at long stretching shadows where the ugly moonlight failed to reach. Only the heady aroma of burning oak kept the senses thawed.

Kari shivered alongside the younger Destined on their four-block sojourn towards Fuji Television. Though she bundled up in a parka, gloves, hat, and boots, she could feel the cold leeching the warmth away from her body. Any exposed skin had turned raw red the moment she stepped outside. The Gatomon found refuge in Kari's camper pack strapped to her back. Patamon somehow wedged himself between Takeru's head and the hood of his parka. Wormmon hid in the confines of Ken's luxury coat. ChibiVeemon, Poromon, and Upamon hunkered down in their respective partners' coats. Everyone huddled together like a single entity, shuffling, stumbling, bumping, struggling along crosswalks or curbs.

Davis blew into his gloves, gushing vapor between his fingers. "So cold," he muttered. He rubbed his arms through his bomber jacket. "Why is it so cold?"

Cody shrugged. "The weatherman was baffled too. It should be almost twenty degrees warmer," he replied. Unlike the others, Cody Hida seemed unfazed. Whether it was from mental discipline or wearing his grandfather's insulated winter coat, Kari could only guess.

"Someone should tell the weather that," Upamon piped up from Cody's coat.

Kari stayed quiet. She remembered the weather going out of kilter in a similar way six years ago when her brother went into the Digital World on his first adventure but kept it to herself. Instead, she shielded her face with the neck of her parka as the wind picked up, feeling it scour against her exposed cheeks and forehead. Her eyes watered. Blinking away the tears, she and the group resumed their trudge as the wind abated.

Takeru strode beside Kari. "Reminds me of our first trip into the Digital World," he said, as if reading her mind again. "There was a blizzard that canceled summer camp. It was pretty wild."

"Sounds whimsical," Poromon quipped dryly.

Yolei folded her arms across her chest, careful of Poromon huddling inside her jacket. "You think something's wrong?"

"Maybe," Takeru guessed. He trailed his gloved finger across a railing, scraping the rime free and watching the flakes sink to the pavement. "Whatever happens in the Digital World can effect us in the Real World, but I'm sure Gennai would've contacted us by now if anything was wrong."

Ken rested his hand against his chin, thoughtful. "If he can contact us at all. Maybe whoever is responsible got to him before coming here."

"Can we at least doom and gloom somewhere indoors where its warm? I can't feel my face anymore," Davis mumbled. He rubbed at his face, turning warm pink skin red raw.

"Relax, we're almost there. Just a few more blocks," Takeru replied. He pointed into the distance at the looming Fuji Television building backlit by lights.

Everyone grumbled in response. They walked past the Tokyo Teleport, one of Odaiba's few train stations on the artificial island. The ground entrances had been shuttered by stainless steel gates, and behind them, through the sliding doors, Kari could discern the waist-high metal barricades painted in caution black and yellow. The electronic marquees outside the station displayed the same message from Tokyo Metro. All the train stations in the greater Tokyo area were closed overnight for extensive maintenance, starting from eight in the evening until six the next morning. Outside of her dad lamenting about carpooling to work, Kari thought little of it, though she wondered what kind of maintenance would close all the stations at once.

Another street crossing and the group ascended the staircase onto the sky walk connecting Aqua City shopping center to Fuji Television. From her spot, Kari gazed over the railing out across the waters of Tokyo Harbor. She stared into the blackness, senses reaching, searching for any scent of salt or glow of a distant buoy. Nothing came, even the distinction between sky and ocean seemed blended together in one, abyssal mass. The wind raked at her face again. She felt Takeru's gentle tug on her elbow, drawing her attention.

His expression creased with worry. "You okay?" He asked.

Kari nodded. She shifted her pack, careful of the precious cargo riding inside. "Just thinking. I'm still trying to process what's happened this Obon," she jokingly admitted.

Takeru took her glove into his, looking across the harbor. "It's definitely one to remember," he agreed. He took her hands into his and they faced each other. "We'll certainly have a tale to tell when this is all over," he said, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

"Do you really think Gennai and the Digital World are okay?"

Takeru hesitated. Kari knew it was an impossible ask and felt a pang of shame for putting him on the spot. "I'm sure they're fine," He answered. "Whatever's causing all the havoc has the full attention of twelve Destined that saved both worlds twice over. The Digital World, the Dark Ocean, anywhere, we'll get to the bottom of this."

She looked up into his Prussian-blue eyes, smiling. "I'm glad you came."

He smiled, pulling her into a brief embrace. An annoyed, Davis-heavy groan rose from the group standing a few feet astride the two of them, wanting to head up the staircase to Fuji Television. Kari knew Takeru wanted to say more, but she ended their conversation through another brief kiss and guided him back towards the group.

The Hachitama Observatory had become host to a boisterous party. Twelve Destined and their digimon mingled around the spartan sphere chatting, idling, and drifting around the long tables and chairs set out for Wizardmon's Obon. Hiroaki Ishida and the handful of station employees that had weathered Myotismon's first invasion stood in the observatory's entrance, arguing over a box television they dragged from a storage room nearby. Outside, the sterile cold brought sleeping Odaiba into sharp clarity, and the glow from the neon lights drew attention of anyone near the wall-length windows.

Gatomon pulled out Wizardmon's picture from its special, padded pocket in Kari's camper pack. Extending a single claw, she drew it across the tape that held together the butcher's paper it was wrapped in. Across the top, bottom, and along the sides in long, purposeful lines, pulling away the paper and letting it fall onto the table until, at last, she held the picture frame in both paws. Wizardmon was smiling back at her, frozen in mid-wave on Kari's balcony. Gatomon gazed mournfully at him. She closed her eyes, memory drifting back to the moment the picture was taken; a few minutes before their capture at the hands of Myotismon, where, in the playback of her mind, Gatomon recalled all the events leading to her friend's death.

Soft footfalls approached behind her. Gatomon's ears canted in the direction, and she creaked open her eyes, staving off the welling tears threatening to fall down her cheek. From the corner of her vision, Gatomon spied the blurred, coal fur of her doppelganger standing at the foot of the chair she was standing on.

Gatomon set the picture frame on the autumn laurels spooled at the head of the fold-out table. "What do you want?" She asked, more forceful out of surprise than annoyance, wiping the wetness from her eyes with the back of her glove.

"Wizardmon must've been a good friend," Black Gatomon answered.

"He was," she affirmed. She dipped an arm back into the camper pack, pulling out more decorations for the dining table. "Wizardmon had always looked out for me. He," Gatomon's voice wavered. She looked away and went back to setting the table. "He was my first, true friend."

"Ah," Black Gatomon replied. Gatomon glanced down and saw him rubbing the back of his head. The gold in his eyes had softened somewhat. "I am sorry for what you've lost, what you've been through."

Gatomon looked down into the camper pack beside her. She felt the sincerity in his words, but forced her face stoic, retrieving the stands for the incense and placing them on the flanks of Wizardmon's picture. "Thanks," she mumbled, averting his gaze. She unraveled the incense from their foil and inserted the stems into the stands. "It's been six years and I still miss him." Softening, Gatomon looked down at her counterpart. "What about you? Have you lost anyone?"

Black Gatomon's expression went solemn. A familiar pain set in his eyes, deeper, wounded even. "Aye," he whispered. "I have." Gatomon hopped down from her chair and stood beside him. Their gazes met. "Something we have in common, unfortunately." Black Gatomon said, forlorn smile across his face.

"Want to talk about it?" Gatomon asked.

To her surprise, the black cat's eyes glistered with sudden wetness. He shook his head and flicked the tears airborne. "Nae," he replied, despite the want in his expression. "Don't worry about me. Later, I promise."

Gatomon frowned. "All right," she agreed. Seeing his pain felt so familiar, yet mysteriously foreign at the same time. "But if we're going to protect Kari together, no secrets."

"Of course, of course," Black Gatomon said, nodding.

The white cat left the conversation there. She turned her attention towards the table, climbing up the offered chair and resumed setting the decorations. When the clocks struck seven in the evening, the Destined and television employees finished their conversations and congregated around the long fold-out table, taking seats, beginning the start of Wizardmon's Bon.

Used, plastic knives clattered on empty, dirty paper plates. Styrofoam Udon cups, lids peeled back and half-eaten, dotted the dining table like markers on a map. Digimon slurped, gulped, and inhaled soda by the can, slamming the empties down in competition before reaching for the dwindling few still lassoed in their plastic rings. Crumpled Onigri wrappers tumbled across the aftermath of the feast dedicated to Wizardmon. Both Gatomon sat closest to Wizardmon's altar, sadness banished after imbibing sugar and meat and the stories of adventures past, toasting towards Wizardmon countless times. An hour had passed, though Kari could swear it felt like she just sat down.

During the feast, the younger Destined had recounted their encounter with the Changeling during the first night of Obon. The older, near-adults listened. They absorbed every word, asking questions between bites or drinking. Was it a digimon? Where did it come from? What does this have to do with the Dark Ocean? Some questions the younger ones could not answer. A few of the television crew leaned in, Hiroaki Ishida in particular, but refrained from speaking. Once was everyone caught up, twelve pairs of eyes turned towards Black Gatomon, who climbed onto the table, careful of his soda and his Onigri, and gave them a sweeping bow.

"First of all thank you, Destined for saving me from the Changeling," he began. "Didn't think I was going to make it back there." Bending, he plucked up his soda and took a generous swig. "I know you all have questions, so I'll try to answer them as best I can," he set the can down. "But your world is in danger, again. Dark World—the Dark Ocean—is pouring into Tokyo from tears in the barrier keeping them apart." Kari grimaced at the mention of the Dark Ocean. "We've got to seal them back up," Black Gatomon explained matter-of-factly.

Her brother, Tai, leaned over the table. "That sounds easier said than done, little guy. Is that where you came from?"

Black Gatomon nodded. "Dark World is a bit Topsy-turvy," he replied, swilling the liquid inside the can. "The Demon Lords are running amok and making a mess of everything. I crossed the barrier looking for help, when that blasted Changeling followed me here."

The word Demon Lord sent a murmur through the younger Destined. Ken's expression turned concerned. "Daemon? Daemon is behind this?"

"They're all behind it," Black Gatomon continued. "All eleven of them. When you sent him back into the Dark Ocean, Daemon told his kin about the Real World and, for lack o' a better verse, it caused a ruckus." He paced down the table, allowing everyone to address him.

Izzy's eye quirked. "Eleven?" he echoed, inquisitive. Reaching underneath his chair, Izzy set his pineapple laptop out, pushing plates, cans, and a piled of used napkins askew. "One second," he said, tapping away at the keyboard. "According to my database, there should only be seven in total?"

The black cat shook his head. "Seven Demon Lords had crossed into the Digital World. Gennai wouldn't know about the other four since they're bound to Dark World for, reasons."

"Prodigious," the university student breathed. "I didn't know his database was incomplete."

"You know about Gennai?" Sora asked. She sat near the other end of the table, and Kari could barely see her head.

Black Gatomon nodded. "Hard not to. He's always meddling with things best left alone," he answered. He set down the empty can in front of her. "Though he won't be much help, I'm afriad."

Mimi looked pensive. The brunette had stopped dying her hair neon pink and grew it out into long, framing curls. "But wait," she said, looking at Palmon. "Gennai is the only one that can help our partners digivolve past Champion level. Without that, well, we're in no shape to fight against something as powerful as a Demon Lord."

The black cat whirled around to face her. He smirked a knowing, sly grin that seemed his favorite. "Not quite. There are," he paused, searching for an invisible word scrawled somewhere on the ceiling, waving his paw in a circular, brainstorming motion. "Beings. Powerful, digital beings. Here, in the Real World, in Tokyo, hiding. They'll help us take the fight into Dark World before the Demon Lords can set foot in your hearth and home." He blanched at the confused faces surrounding him. "Of course. we have to find them first," he elaborated.

"Wait, wait, wait," Veemon sputtered from his place at the table. "What do you mean 'hiding'?" he slurred, jabbing his soda can at Black Gatomon. "Where, where were they when Daemon sch-owed up, or during that whole debacle with Myotismon?" He demanded. The blue dragon stood, shakily, on his chair. His red eyes seemed to focus and relax with his breathing. "Why should we believe you?" Davis peeled the can out of Veemon's fist and ushered him sitting.

Black Gatomon took the accusation with relative coolness. He shrugged. "That, I can't answer. I'm sure they have their reasons, but I know they're here, in this city. Helya told me."

Kair perked up. "Oh, is she one of them?" she asked.

Her second partner smiled, nodding. "Helya is one of the Vanir; the sacred pantheon that tended to Yggdrasil, the World Tree. She's the one who sent me here." He answered. His face scrunched at her, remembering something. "The Demon Lords have probably overwhelmed her by now. That's not a pleasant thought."

"Vanir," Izzy echoed again. More furious typing followed. "I see," he said, staring at his laptop screen. "The Vanir are Nordic gods, part of the Old Norse mythologies from our world. Makes sense they would exist in some fashion if Yggdrasil is considered a God in the Digital World." He kept typing. "Fascinating," he murmured, "Apparently, the Vanir are the more magically gifted of the Norse Gods compared to the Aesir and could change their appearances like similar Gods of other mythos."

Matt Ishida drummed his fork against the table. "So, to summarize; bad guys are trying to take over the Real World and our only way of stopping them is through your mystery buddies?" Black Gatomon frowned at the synopsis but nodded. "Well then, how do we find these powerful, super beings that don't want to be found? Plug their names into google search?"

Izzy pondered the question, running a finger through his short, manicured hair. "That's actually not a bad idea. I'll contact Gennai. Maybe he'll have something tucked away in his library, or something."

"Yeah, sure," Black Gatomon blurted. He resisted rolling his eyes, Kari could tell. "While you're doing that, we can patrol for the Dark World monsters that cross the barrier. They'll surely have the Vanir's attention."

Agumon hummed. He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, chin pointed at his chest. "Speaking of, what exactly is a Changeling? That's not a digimon I've ever heard of."

"That's because they're not digimon," the black cat said. He turned, addressing Agumon with a flick of his ring-less tail. "Dark World is inhabited by more than just digimon. How did Helya put it," he trailed, thinking. "They are monsters 'corrupted in form, function, and freedom', if that makes any sense. Changelings are unique because they shape themselves into forms you would fear the most." A grimace emerged on his face. "Mine happened to be snakes. I hate snakes," he explained, shuddering.

Gatomon sashayed beside her double. "They're not very tough," she purred, placing a paw on her hip. "All six of us handled it even in rookie form, so they're far from invincible. The real challenge is finding them when they emerge."

"Look for a bunch of fog," Black Gatomon quipped. "Pea soup kind of clouds. Can't miss it."

"So the blind leading the blind," Gomamon joked. He looked up at Joe, who had been quiet the whole conversation despite being a almost a head taller than the other Destined.

Hiroaki grunted. He had been spying his watch throughout the entire feast, staring at it again. "While all this has been eye opening, it's time you kids went home," he announced, standing up form his chair. The other employees mirrored him. "The weather's going to get worse overnight so we'll drive you there."

"It's going to get colder?" Cody inquired. He piled his trash on his plate and pushed it towards the center of the dining table.

Charlie, one of the employees, nodded. "The weatherman was pretty freaked out about it. We've been reading temperatures that are pushing thirty degrees below normal, which is abnormal." He adjusted his glasses and fastened his identification badge to his front pocket. "We also noticed an uptick in technical disturbances with the overnight programming, but I'm sure that's due to the cold affecting the outputs."

"Snow tomorrow too," Seki added beside him. She opened a black garbage bag so Hiroaki could shovel the waste in two hands at a time. "Not the pleasant flurries either. Supposed to be icy, tundra stuff, so bundle up for that."

"I still think it's supernatural," Jeremiah said. The squat man still sat, a stump of Onigri still in his hand.

Hiroaki frowned at his co-worker. "Superstitions aside, I'm not letting these kids walk home in the freezing cold. Finish stuffing your face and get the keys for the vans," he chided good-naturedly. Jeremiah sulked, but obeyed. He rose from the table and disappeared through the Observatory's main doors. "Grab your things, kids. Think you can take the younger ones, Charlie?" The man in question nodded. "Good," Hiroaki said, "I'll drop off the others at their dorms."

"We'll keep an eye out for these Dark World monsters," Tai informed the Destined. "Keep in touch. Send messages often. I'm sure we'll find these Vanir and get to the bottom of this in no time."

Kari and the others nodded. She felt a little lighter, knowing the other Destined were involved. It helped her process all the information thrown at her over the past few days. Despite such assurances, waiting for monsters to attack you like bait in a small pond put her on edge. But as both Gatomon hopped on her shoulders for the trip home, she knew her friends, digital or otherwise, had her back.

OOC: Sorry for the delay. Real life things to worry about. For now, posting should be a bit more frequent depending on circumstances. Please read and review. It helps me become a better author and better story teller!