''Speaking''

Thinking

[Communicating via text, phone, magic, telepathy, etc.]

In the darkness of the void, there was a lone soul.

While the spirit had met his end, he didn't curse this fate. The lone resident was contempt, for he had achieved what he'd been searching for his entire existence: a chance to face a warrior with a will and dedication rivaling, and even surpassing his own. The battle they had fought, like the countless others he'd been through before, had reached its climax. But the difference this time was that it had come with an excellent, no, perfect ending.

In the final battle that would decide the fate of the Digital World, the Bagra Empire was facing an offensive just outside their headquarters from Alliance's Army. Their enemy had gathered a remarkable force composed of the legendary armies of Xros Heart and Blue Fire -led by the renowned young human generals-, surviving members of Royal Knights, and the remaining pockets of Digimon resistance groups.

As the battle raged between the two armies, a strike force consisting of the human generals and their closest Digimon partners who had combined into a fiery warrior giant Shoutmon X7, had successfully infiltrated inside the giant fortress, the Great Pandemonium, and reached to the throne room located in the stronghold's tallest tower.

Sitting on the throne was a former high-ranking angel who had been cast down by the Heavens, His Highness Bagramon, along with his two Head Officers. Standing on the right side of the throne was a being of bewitching appearance, the Demon Lord of Lust, Lilithmon, and on the left side stood a soldier clad in armor reminisced that of a samurai, he, Tactimon.

The last Head Officer Blastmon was absent.

While the giant crystal-bodied general wasn't one to usually inform the other two Head Officers of his affairs, and while somewhat simpleminded, the commander was a force of nature, boasting a body and power that was among the top of the Digital World, and so it was usually overlooked if the gem-eating commander had ventured unannounced to conquer some Zone. However, they had not been able to contact Blastmon since his departure, and while neither Tactimon nor Lilithmon said it out loud, it seemed that their fellow commander had been defeated.

As the invader's strike force burst through the throne room's stone wall, Bagramon gave Tactimon permission to unleash his sword's full might. The soldier felt how the seal his Lord had placed on the scabbard broke, awakening the slumbering beast that was dwelling inside the ancient weapon. His left hand tightened around the sheath as he heard the chain that held it in place rattle against the marble floor, no longer needing it to hide his bloodlust. He could finally bare his fangs again after so long, and like a snake who struck on its prey, his hand shot to the sword's hilt, ready to unleash the storm that was residing inside it. With a draw, his final battle had begun.

The two head Officers and the human General's forces clash was however shortly interrupted when something exploded from the floor, collapsing the hall's marble tiles Tactimon and his opponent were standing in the process.

The source of interruption was Digimon called Dark Knightmon, a mysterious warrior who had made his mark on the Xros Wars not a long time ago and whom Bagra Army didn't frustratingly have much information of. Lilithmon had faced this dark knight once in the Sweet Zone, and what Tactimon had been able to discern from the Demon Lord's excuses for almost destroying the Zone in one of her so-called explosions again, her opponent seemed to pose enough power and skills to give even her some trouble.

The dark knight didn't resemble anymore Lilithmon's description. What now stood before him was an unsightly amalgamation composed of different Digimon the knight had absorbed into himself, in what seemed like a desperate attempt to accumulate power. The knight had taken more than he could bargain for, and it showed in Dark Knightmon's appearance -if the hulking creature could even be called that anymore- with eyes full of madness and manic words spewing forth from his large mouth.

As Tactimon fell to the stronghold's lower level, the soldier realized rather familiar-looking crystalline spikes were growing from the knight's back before resuming his mortal combat against Shoutmon X7.

Before Tactimon knew it, their duel had led them outside the Great Pandemonium to the middle of a raging warzone. Neither had paid any attention to the conflict revolving around them, their focus solely on each other as the two warriors continued their fierce engagement in the air.

Both sides gave their all, but in the end, Tactimon had bested his opponent, having forced Shoutmon and the others from their DigiXros form, who were now scattered on the ground, beaten and exhausted, and would soon taste his blade for one last time.

To Tactimon's surprise, his adversaries were not ready to give up.

The human children's unfaltering faith in their Digimon friends was reason enough to continue onward. The latent hopes and dreams that the humans carried inside them had reached and resonated with the Digimon, giving them strength, and to Tactimon's astonishment, allowing them to evolve. It should have been impossible. There hadn't been any potential left in the Digimon, the ability to change one's form had been lost to the distant past when humans had ceased to dream.

It'd brought long-forgotten feelings of excitement for the old soldier when he saw how the humans and their partners stood up once again, and how that determination gave them the power to continue their fight.

The two sides clashed once again, and Tactimon felt he wasn't facing his opponent's weapon's metal or the claws of their fists, but their blazingly hot spirits that were threatening to burn him.

The newly evolved Digimon then DigiXrosed one more time. Their hearts became one, beating for the same united purpose that flowed through their veins, and from that unity, a golden warrior Shoutmon EX6 was born. With newfound vigor, the shining warrior faced Tactimon, and the commander of the Bagra Army had to give his all to not become overwhelmed by the onslaught he was facing.

As the two sides continued their clash, Tactimon got a glimpse of the final act of the centuries-long play Bagramon had started, His Highness having finally found the answer in his quest to save the Digital World from its grim fate where only misery and death reigned. The answer, it seemed, was that there was no saving it. And so, to stop their world from being transformed into a place of eternal suffering, to stop it from getting twisted anymore by the influence of the human world where misery and apathy seemed to populate humanity's consciousness, His Highness had decided to put an end to it before it would be too late.

While the battle raged between the two armies, Tactimon witnessed how the prophesized Beast of Apocalypse, Zeed Millenniummon, emerged from the Great Pandemonium's tallest spire, right where his Lord's throne room was.

The Beast was composed of two serpentine spirits, one of rusting red, the other dark as midnight. The two snakes ascended toward the sky circling each other, forming a vortex that swallowed anything that got caught in its hungry tendrils. On top of the swirling mass of red and black, two draconic heads rose, of which the red one had a great horn adorning its face.

The monster dwarfed the hundred-meter tower it came from and started hungrily devouring the fortress, absorbing the data that composed the massive building inside its body. It was only a matter of time now before Zeed Milleniummon would destroy the Digital World, leaving nothing in existence. A new era was about to begin, one where there would be no light, or darkness, no space or time.

After seeing the start of the end of times, the golden warrior got furious and charged at Tactimon with great speed. Finally, as Tactimon was forced to intercept a strike he couldn't evade, the old commander knew he had found what he'd been searching for his long life.

The upcoming attack shined like the brightest of stars, and as it struck his sword, it went right through the blade, shattering it to thousands of pieces, continuing straight to him. As Tactimon felt the impact on his chest, it resonated all the way to his soul, igniting something deep inside him that the soldier had forgotten existed and he was sent careering down, leaving a long burrow on the ground.

Truly, he was blessed to have been given the chance to face this warrior.

As he labouredly got up, Tactimon graciously congratulated the Digimon and the young humans, telling them to continue to walk on the path they had chosen and to never give up, no matter what challenges lay ahead of them.

And with that, the infamous commander of the Bagra Army, having loyally served his Lord to the very end, was finally freed from his duty. There were no more plans to create, no more Zones to conquer, and no more meetings to be had concerning the state of the war. In a strange way it was liberating, and Tactimon welcomed the darkness that came to his mind with open arms.

And here he was, still in the dark. He had no recollection of how he had gotten here, or what ''here'' actually meant, completely stripped from his senses as he was. Tactimon couldn't even rely on his exact sense of time that had helped him schedule and plan the seemingly endless tasks he had as a Head Officer to tell how long it had been since he regained consciousness. The only thing the soldier could do was think, something he had immersed himself in the moment he realized his predicament.

Tactimon had first believed he had arrived in the Dark Area, his soul had been judged and sent into eternal isolation. He was prepared to face the punishment, should it be so. He was no saint, leading armies into countless conquests and battles did guarantee bloodshed. Warriors and innocent Digimon alike had died by his hand, such was the tragedy of war. His second guess was that this place was for him to reflect on all the sins he committed and perhaps with enough repentance, his soul would be allowed to rest proper. Or it could even be that he was still waiting to be judged and these were his last moments to ponder the consequences his actions had caused before he was sent wherever it was deemed fit.

Be it becoming mad in the void, finding salvation, or something else, Tactimon felt deep inside him he would not be able to experience it. The Beast of Apocalypse would soon come and raze even this plane from existence alongside him, making whoever it was that was responsible for his fate disappointed that their efforts were for naught.

Tactimon let the picture briefly amuse him before dismissing it. He wouldn't normally have given such a frivolous thing a moment of attention, but considering the situation he was in, he allowed it.

And so, the spirit continued his lonely existence in the expanse of darkness, waiting for his inevitable end.

…60478, 60479 and 604800.

That was how many seconds Tactimon had counted. He finally allowed himself to admit that something was wrong. His Majesty had predicted that it would take but a few days for the Digital World to be completely devoured by Zeed Millenniummon and he was rarely wrong. So what did it mean that he was still here and not reduced to nothingness?

Like a small flame that kindled to life, an idle thought came to him.

Could it be possible? Were those children and Digimon able to avert our world's destruction?

A darker part of his mind told to Tactimon forget the thought. While his opponent had exceeded Tactimon's wildest estimations, even they had their limits, and their spirits could carry them only so far.

Pondering over things you can't confirm won't bring you any closer to an answer.

He hoped to put an end to the subject, but the stubborn flame of thought refused to die, leaving Tactimon in doubt.

Then, something changed, and with it, came pain.

His eyes were burning and it took Tactimon a moment to realize it was because he could see again, although he almost wished he couldn't, as a sudden brightness blinded him.

Forcing his eyes shut, he waited for his vision to return and carefully squinted.

His new surroundings seemed to consist of iridescent colors constantly changing in shape. The weird colorscape reached as far as his eyes could see in every direction Tactimon looked, making it seem like orientation was just a suggestion here.

After seeing nothing else besides the expanse of colors, he diverted his gaze away from the weird landscape to himself. What Tactimon saw was not something he was expecting.

He was staring at a loose flock of data that was floating around, like flower petals carried by the wind, vaguely resembling the shape of his body.

Was this his… soul? Yes, this was definitely his soul, he could feel it.

But how...?

Bringing his hands up, he examined the floating bits of data that formed his fingers, curling them into fists before letting them open again.

Tactimon was abruptly pulled from his fascination as he realized two things. First, he could feel again, and not just his still aching eyes, but an excruciating pain all over his body. Second, he could hear again; more precisely, he could hear himself cry out in pain.

In an instant, training took over the soldier.

Deep breaths, calm yourself.

Tactimon wordlessly repeated the mantra while he got his voice under control and could feel a sense of calm starting to wash over him. It took some effort, but he managed to reduce the excruciating feeling to a background in his mind, and while it still hurt, he could now at least concentrate on other things besides the burning pain.

Tactimon extended his senses around him. While it felt like he was alone and didn't see anyone, the soldier didn't lower his guard down. He'd had enough surprises as of late.

After securing his surroundings, Tactimon focused back on himself and grimly observed how his spectral hands seemed to steadily dissolve like a swarm of Piranimon were shredding them to pieces. Looking around, he could see the same phenomena happening all over his ghastly figure.

It was like he had entered some perverted version of Digital Space. And just like the Digital Space where anything not powerful enough to resist its hazardous nature would be reduced to noise data in mere minutes, the same thing seemed to apply here as well.

He tried to gather his power, to see if he could stop himself from breaking apart or even slow down the process, but it was useless, he was too weak to fight against this and the effort just made him more exhausted.

Perhaps it would be better just to succumb to death quickly rather than trying to prolong the inevitable.

As the corrosion of his body continued, it became harder to form coherent thoughts, his vision started to dim, and he was losing the feel of his body.

It was then that Tactimon felt he wasn't alone anymore. Something was observing him.

Something powerful.

The feeling of uneasiness came behind him and after an arduous ordeal of getting his ethereal body rotated, the soldier concentrated. He had to fight the growing headache that was getting worse by the second, the weird kaleidoscopic landscape not helping either.

Then he saw it: a giant black spot, floating between the nauseating colors, quickly growing in size.

No, getting closer.

The fast-approaching spot was so big, that even with his deteriorating eyesight, Tactimon was able to tell it was a silhouette of a giant being and he strained his eyes to make out more details. It was challenging, but he could discern what he presumed was a giant draconic head, red in color, and there seemed to be an appendage growing from its head.

A great horn.

The soldier could feel raw power emanating from the creature, its magnitude being something he had never felt before. Just the difference between him and this thing was like comparing a smoldering piece of ember to a sun. No being he had ever come across was even remotely comparable to it. No being, except that one.

There was only one creature that came to Tactimon's mind: the red-black two-headed dragon, Zeed Millenniummon.

So, they were unable to change the fate of our world.

For some reason, acknowledging those words brought disheartenment to him.

As the Dragon of Apocalypse got closer, Tactimon began to accept his fate. Only skeletal remains were now left of his ethereal body and it didn't matter if the Dragon got him or not, he was going to perish either way.

The Beast was now almost on him, and as the visible one of its two heads, crimson in color, opened its huge maw, Tactimon began to accept his fate. He had his wish granted, there was nothing else for him waiting in the future, or for anyone else for that matter.

As he was about to be swallowed by the Beast, something came to him.

The small flame that had been lighted inside him in his final battle suddenly started to shine brighter in defiance. And the warm flame, now the size of a bonfire, spread its light to darkness, burning away the shadows of apathy and despair that were gnawing at the soldier and it made Tactimon remember the last words that Shoutmon had spoken to him before the old commander had perished.

There will come a day where there will be a happy future.

That will turn even that scowl into laughter.

We'll be making that future!

It was such a naïve thing to believe in. What were the dreams of a few against the whole rotting world? How could you change the fate that had already been written?

But the pure passion behind those words that had been said to him… That passion made it seem like there was nothing that could stop that dream come true. It made the impossible look possible, and it made him want to believe in that impossible dream as well.

As the Dragon's maw began to close on him, Tactimon made up his mind; even if his end was imminent, even if there was no salvation in sight, he would not give up, he refused to give up. He wanted to see the future that Shoutmon and the others believed in, a future where even a stubborn soul like him could laugh freely.

The dragon closed its maw and once again, the soldier was greeted with darkness.