Digimon and High School DxD belong to their respective owners.

A lone soul was drifting through the expanse of darkness.

The soul belonged to a warrior and a great one at that. He had survived hundreds of battles and led numerous successful campaigns throughout his life, so much so that he was called 'General who knows no defeat'.

But even he wasn't above fate and had eventually stepped into his last battlefield. The warrior didn't curse the destiny which had befallen him. No, he was feeling quite the opposite in fact. This had been the ending he'd been searching for in his long life and finally, it had been granted: a chance to face an opponent with skills and will rivaling, even surpassing, his own.

Simply put, this had been the perfect closure for Tactimon and he couldn't help but grin as the memories of the fated duel came back to his mind.

In the ultimate battle that would decide the fate of the Digital World, the Bagra Empire was facing an offensive just outside their headquarters from the enemy which they had hastily dubbed 'the Alliance'. The opposing army had managed to gather a sizable force composed of the surviving members of Royal Knights, the remaining last pockets of Digimon resistance groups and of course, the legendary armies of Xros Heart and Blue Fire led by the renowned young Human Generals,

As the battle raged between the two armies, a strike force consisting of the humans and their closest Digimon partners (who had DigiXrosed into a giant warrior, Shoutmon X7) had managed to slip inside Bagra Empire's giant fortress, the Great Pandemonium. The group was flying straight toward the throne room located in the stronghold's tallest tower, their mission to finally end the Xros Wars.

Sitting on the throne was the person who was responsible for this hundreds-of-years-long conflict, Emperor Bagramon, a former high-ranking angel Digimon who had been cast down by the Heavens. Along with the Fallen Angel were his most trusted subordinates, his Head Officers. Standing on the right side of the throne was a cruel creature of bewitching appearance, the Demon Lord of Lust, Lilithmon. On the left side stood a soldier wearing armor reminisced that of a samurai, Tactimon himself.

The third and 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 simple-minded, the commander was a force of nature. Blastmon boasted 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, Tactimon nor Lilithmon had heard from Blastmon since his departure and all the contact attempts to get him back to help bolster the Pandemonium's defenses had been met with silence. While neither Head Officer had said it out loud, it seemed that their fellow commander had been defeated.

As the invader's strike force burst through the stone wall opposite the throne, Bagramon gave Tactimon permission to unleash his sword's full might. The samurai 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 him. With a draw, his final battle had begun. Tactimon jumped forward, Lilithmon not far behind him casting a magic spell, all the while Bagramon serenely sat on his throne, observing how the scene would unfold.

However, the two Head Officers' clash against Shoutmon X7 was short-lived when the floor exploded under them, collapsing the throne room's marble floor tiles in the process.

The source of this sudden 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 Empire didn't frustratingly have much information. 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 another Zone in one of her so-called explosions, her opponent seemed to pose enough power and skills to give even her some trouble.

What rose beneath the floor barely resembled the description Lilithmon had given. The dark knight in question was composed of parts of different Digimon he had absorbed into himself, in what seemed like a desperate attempt to accumulate power. Dark Knightmon, if the hulking creature could even be called that anymore, had taken more than he could bargain for. His eyes were clouded from madness and a manic cackle spewed forth from his unnaturally long mouth as the chimera-like monster boasted to take down Bagramon, who continued to sit on his throne and calmly watch the spectacle in silence.

As the floor beneath Tactimon collapsed, the samurai saw rather familiar-looking crystalline spikes growing from Dark Knightmon's back and heard Lilithmon's outraged voice, her having seen the same thing. Now they knew why Blastmon hadn't shown up.

Soon Tactimon was falling along with the humans and Shoutmon X7, leaving Bagramon and Lilithmon to deal with the dark knight. A wordless wish for the mad Digimon to get what he deserved was all Tactimon could spare before he resumed his duel against Shoutmon X7. Soon thoughts on Blastmon's cruel fate were no longer on his mind as the samurai concentrated on defeating the enemy in front of him.

Before Tactimon or Shoutmon X7 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 bested Shoutmon X7 with a decisive strike. The Digimon were forced from their DigiXros form and were scattered on the ground, beaten and exhausted and would soon taste his sword for the final time.

To Tactimon's surprise and delight, his adversaries were not ready to give up just yet.

The human children who had accompanied these Digimon and who shared the many hardships throughout the war with them started to encourage their friends to rise back up again, having unfaltering faith in their partners. It was all the Digimon needed to hear to continue the fight.

So pure were the hopes and dreams the young humans had for their digital friends that these feelings reached and resonated within the Digimon, giving them strength, and to Tactimon's astonishment, allowing them to evolve. The samurai witnessed in silent shock how injuries were healed, strength was restored and new shining armor and weapons formed around his opponent's bodies as their forms grew.

What Tactimon saw was supposed to be an impossibility. Digimon had lost the ability to change their forms eons ago. To evolve by just strongly wishing for it to happen should be impossible in the present day.

It'd brought long-forgotten feelings of excitement for Tactimon when he saw how the humans and their digital partners stood up defiantly once again, ready for a second round. The two sides had then clashed again and Tactimon felt he wasn't facing anymore the metal of the weapons or the claws and fists, but blazingly hot spirits that were threatening to burn him.

At first, Tactimon successfully fended off coming attacks but the newly evolved Digimon had one more trick to show for him. DigiXrosing, the Digimon's 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, Shoutmon EX6 came rushing toward 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 master 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, Bagramon 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 immediately 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 completely, 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, Shoutmon EX6 got furious and charged toward 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 and 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 samurai didn't know existed.

Truly, he was blessed to have been given the chance to face this warrior, Tactimon thought as was sent careering down, leaving a long burrow on the ground.

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 embrace of darkness with no recollection of how he had gotten here or what 'here' actually meant, completely stripped from senses as he was. There was no to tell how long time had passed before Tactimon regained consciousness. The only thing the soldier (for he was a warrior without a master now) could do was think, something he had been practicing here quite a lot already.

After coming to his senses, Tactimon had first believed he had arrived in the Dark Area, his soul having been judged. 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.

Getting bored thinking over again about the potential ways his soul could be tortured while waiting for the actual event to begin, Tactimon's mind started to wander. Perhaps this dark place was for him to reflect on all the sins he had committed and with enough repentance, his soul would be allowed to rest properly. Another possibility that came to his mind was he was still simply waiting for the final judgment to happen. One of the biggest battles had been taking place in the Digital World after all and he wasn't the only one to lose their life in that conflict. Who knew how many others had died before him and were waiting just like him?

Be it becoming mad in the void, finding salvation, or something else, Tactimon knew deep inside him he would not be able to experience it. Zeed Milleniummon had been released and would eventually reach a critical mass after absorbing the Digital World, collapsing their reality and razing even this plane from existence alongside him, making whoever was responsible for his fate surely disappointed that their hard work was for naught.

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

And so, the lone soul of the deceased warrior 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, after which he finally allowed himself to admit that something was wrong. Bagramon had predicted that it would take but a few days for the Digital World to be completely devoured by Zeed Millenniummon and the soldier knew his master was rarely if ever wrong. So what did it mean that he was still here and existing?

Could it be possible, were those humans and Digimon able to avert our world's destruction? Like a small flame that kindled to life, an idle thought had come to him.

A darker part of Tactimon's mind told him to forget the idea. While his opponent had exceeded his 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, Tactimon decided as a final verdict and hoped to put an end to the subject but the stubborn flame of thought refused to die, leaving him in doubt.

Suddenly, everything changed.

Tactimons winced as he felt his eyes burning. It took him a moment to realize it was because he could see again, although he almost wished he couldn't, so much did it hurt to see. Forcing his eyes shut, he patiently 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, similar to flower petals carried by the wind, vaguely resembling the shape of his body.

Is this… my soul? Tactimon wondered. Bringing his hands up, the soldier examined tiny floating bits of data that formed his fingers, curling them into fists before letting them open again.

Yes, it most definitely is, Tactimon concluded. He could feel it.

But how..?

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 a creeping pain all over his body that soon started to become unbearable. Second, he could hear again. More precisely, he could hear himself cry out in pain.

In an instant, training took over him.

Getting his voice under control, Tactimon started wordlessly repeating the mantra he used when he needed to calm himself on the war front. The stormy waters in his mind subsided, becoming a mirror-like surface that, oh so perfectly reflected everything. The soldier felt himself calming down and his senses sharpening. It took some effort but he managed to reduce the agony he was feeling to the background in his mind and while it still hurt, he could now at least concentrate on other things besides the excruciating pain.

Next, Tactimon extended his senses around him. While it seemed like he was alone, the soldier didn't lower his guard. He'd had enough surprises already.

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

To Tactimon, it was like he had entered some twisted 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 happen 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, Tactimon 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, a darker part of his mind reasoned.

As Tactimon's body continued to dissolve, it became harder to form coherent thoughts, his vision started to dim and his body became numb.

It was then the soldier 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. Tactimon had to fight the growing headache that was getting worse by the second. The weird kaleidoscopic dimension didn't make things any easier and he cursed the ever-changing colors.

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

Not growing, getting closer, Tactimon corrected himself.

The fast-approaching spot was so big that even with his deteriorating eyesight, Tactimon was able to tell that the silhouette belonged to a being of giant proportions 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, crimson in color, and there seemed to be an appendage (a horn Tactimon surmised) growing from its head.

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 could compare to what he saw: the prophetized red-black two-headed dragon, Zeed Millenniummon.

So, they were unable to change the fate of our world, Tactimon realized and he could feel a wave of disappointment and sorrow wash over him. This meant that the Digital World was no more.

As the Dragon of Apocalypse got closer, Tactimon began to accept his fate. Only skeletal remains were now left of his ethereal body. It was only a matter if the Dragon got him before he perished.

The Dragon's crimson head was now almost on him, and as it opened it's 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 Tactimon was about to be swallowed by the Dragon of Apocalypse, something took hold of him. The small flame that had been lighted inside him in his final battle suddenly started to shine brighter in defiance. The flame, now the size of a bonfire, spread its light and warm to darkness, burning away the shadows of apathy and despair that were gnawing at the soldier and it made Tactimon remember the last words Shoutmon and others had spoken to him before he 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 Tactimon's opinion. 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.