Finally, I have started translating my most ambitious novel. I have already written 38 chapters, that I will be publishing weekly. Hope you enjoy.
Prologue: When Kindness Turns to Hatred
They were all gathered. Eight formidable figures sat comfortably in their respective chairs. They were perfectly positioned to completely surround the glass table. On it, each had a glass of wine: some completely empty, others half-drunk, except for one that remained intact.
Presiding over them was an imposing figure. Only the lower part of his face could be faintly seen, as his wolf-like mask with a great green-blue mane covered the rest. He smiled, confident. Or at least his determined demeanor conveyed such security.
He lifted his rudimentary knife and slammed it onto the table. He punched the glass of the table firmly, causing the remnants of wine in his glass to splash.
The rest of those present did not flinch; they already knew him: too many years ruling together in the Digital World.
He cleared his throat, indicating that he was about to begin his grand speech. Despite the rough manner he usually used to get attention, in many of his speeches, he used eloquent words that encouraged people to follow him wherever he went. He knew, despite his tough character, how to connect with people.
"I have summoned you here for a reason. You all know it. We have spent too many years in the shadows. Before, we were the law. We ruled effectively and relentlessly. But the greed and ambition of those who are now our enemies caused them to revoke our position; not without first waging a bloody battle, from which we emerged unscathed," he paused dramatically, "at least those present here," the mention of the absent ones stirred his guests, who began to murmur, "Now we are stronger. Also wiser," he raised his voice to demand silence, "We have corrected our flaws and must be more united than ever. It's time to strike back."
Applause was immediate. He made another brief pause, waiting for the ovation to cease. He looked satisfied at the affirmative gestures from the rest of the attendees.
"Let's not deceive ourselves," he continued, "Currently, we only possess small territories. Think of those kingdoms that were once ours. We were unstoppable. And we can be again. But for that, we must act. That's why I've gathered you here, in my Palace of Mirrors."
One of the attendees made a move to get up, but her companion grabbed her firmly and sat her down.
"Sister, sit down. It's not over yet," he said firmly as he forced her to sit back down. His wild blonde mane was uncovered. It cascaded like a waterfall, but he quickly pushed it aside. He found it disrespectful.
The Digimon who had tried to leave the room looked directly into her brother's eyes. They respected each other, but they didn't get along very well. They were opposites: Sun and Moon, Ice and Fire... They couldn't survive without each other, but neither could they survive together.
A giggle echoed throughout the room. The attendees looked to one corner of the table. Next to an intact wine glass, her boots were propped up on the table. She wore a mocking, almost childish grin. They forgave her because it was her: if it were someone else, they would have been severely reprimanded.
"Back to the topic, we will open the floor for debate. Tell me, gods, will we fight for what is ours?" the host resumed the debate.
"Are you sure about what you're proposing? Are you willing to start a war, Mercurymon?" said the figure who had tried to leave. She felt uncomfortable with that proposal. The Digital World was in a prosperous moment, and she didn't want to disrupt it for selfish reasons.
"It would be fun, Dianamon," someone added from the corner of the table. "My alter ego could come to light again," the mention of their other form unsettled the attendees, who responded with silence as they drank from their wine glasses.
"Wait for the right moment, dear Minervamon. You only need to adopt that form in battle. It's very uncontrollable," said Mercurymon, calling for common sense.
"I agree," admitted Dianamon. It seemed she had to concede, as everyone agreed and she didn't want to oppose her family. "It's true that they have taken everything from us. But we should control our methods."
"Does anyone else want to give their opinion?" Mercurymon asked.
There was no response.
"Apollomon, you should be the most interested. Think about your old territories. Now think about Bright Zone... It's a pity, don't you think? Even Dianamon agrees. And if it weren't for you, you know she would have left a long time ago. What do you say?"
"It sounds tempting, honestly..." the one addressed replied. He looked back at his sister, who remained impassive.
"Well..." the revolutionary exclaimed.
"I have a question," another figure exclaimed, who until then had not participated in the debate.
She got up and started pacing around the room. Despite the darkness they were in, she could almost be distinguished from the others with ease. Her slender dancer's body finally tiptoed over to Mercurymon. Her perfectly combed blonde mane had a smell of sea breeze that intoxicated the host. He brought his face close to the olympic's ear. One of his ribbons covered them, so that the others couldn't understand them or read their lips.
"And is that good for us?" she murmured flirtatiously.
"Of course," Mercurymon intoned.
After hearing his response, she approached Apollomon slightly, but returned to his seat. Several attendees gave him concerned looks: they didn't like what they had just witnessed. Dianamon rolled her eyes: Venusmon throwing another one of her tantrums.
"Vulcanusmon, will you be able to make new weapons?" Mercurymon inquired, calling to another of the attendees who had not yet participated in the debate.
The god crossed his arms. His face, covered in bandages, didn't reveal what he was thinking.
"I'll consider your proposal: it depends on how the following events unfold," he replied enigmatically.
"I'm sorry to say that I oppose your plans, Mercurymon," another of the attendees exclaimed. Dianamon looked directly at him, surprised. She thought she was the only one against it.
"What? Neptunemon, king of the seas, now that you are happily married, are you going to give up everything to rule a small island? You disappoint me."
Mercurymon's words struck him deep, hurting his ego.
"Island Zone is not just a small island," Neptunemon asserted, referring to his kingdom.
"But you ruled all the oceans. They have relegated us all to a position below our capabilities. You'll have to admit that I'm right," Mercurymon replied persuasively.
Neptunemon nodded. He was starting to remember those times before the Sacred Beasts relegated them. In those archaic eras, they were happy. More than now. They were great and powerful, as well as respected. Much more than now. He remembered his old underwater palace with nostalgia, now sealed. He missed it.
"Only you remain," Apollomon said, pointing to the last of the attendees who had not participated. "Mercurymon did well in summoning us here. We've all spoken, except you."
Seated at one end, as if it didn't concern him, the last figure was uncovered. The large fangs of his mask gleamed for a moment. He showed indecision. He looked at the rest of the Olympians. In the end, everyone had decided on the path of revenge.
He had proposed it first, with disastrous consequences. But the passage of time seemed to have erased the wound in some. He was convinced that if he had made that same proposal, they wouldn't have accepted it.
"I'm looking forward to it," he admitted.
"I like that more, Marsmon," Apollomon exclaimed.
They had always been friends, no point in hiding it. They had a lot in common. And that's what had made them inseparable.
"Now that we've reached an agreement, we'll end the meeting here. Ponder on what we've discussed today. We'll meet again in a few days. I'll take care of everything," Mercurymon said, bidding farewell.
They all gradually left the room they were in. The confusing amount of footsteps of those seeking the exit seemed to scratch the glass floor they were made of.
When everyone had left the palace, Mercurymon opened the large window leading to the terrace. He walked confidently to the railing.
He watched as the others dispersed into the darkness of the night. Today was the new beginning. Today was the beginning of the end. For as he said: when kindness turns to hatred, there can be no more powerful weapon.