Holy War

by Griff4823

The sequel to "A Dragon in Shining Armour". The Royal Knights secured victory and peace set over the continent, but it isn't to last. The autocratic Metal Empire, a team of amoral mercenaries, and a mysterious Digimon in the shadows; it's up to the Order of the Royal Knights to intervene. Can they stop things from spiraling out of control, all while dealing with their own issues?

42. Chapter 31 Part 1: A Crisis of Faith

(Author's Notes: Hey, everyone. Here's the new sort of chapter. I say 'sort of' because Chapter 31 is going to be in a similar style to Chapter 15: The Immortal Champion of A Dragon in Shining Armour. It's going to be divided into three parts because it's so large and it is going to take on a similar structure and tone. I'll also be posting the next part every two weeks. Just thought I'd let everybody know before you start reading. I hope you enjoy it!)

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Chapter 31: A Crisis of Faith (Part I)

It was sunny that day.

An impressive mansion stood at the plateau of a small hill. It was a sizeable building made of pale, grey stone with sturdy, unshakeable foundations. The architecture of the great building projected a powerful and austere appearance, one that was daunting but not boastful. It was an old building that contained cracks in the stone every so often, indicating its time-weathered flaws despite its grand, outward appearance.

The mansion stood proudly on its hill; it overlooked the grassy landscape surrounding the estate, as well as the town down at the base of the hill. It was as if the building was standing sentinel over the whole area, protecting it with its power and dominating appearance.

The town below was large, and there were many Digimon walking around, getting on with their day. A small road led from the edge of town, up the hill to the mansion's outer gate.

Outside, the sun shone its golden rays down across the tranquil, grassy environment. The blades of grass and colourful flowers glowed radiantly under the warm shine of the revolving sun. A gentle breeze flowed down the hill towards the town, passing a breath of mild air through the streets. Meanwhile, a large cloud that was shaded grey began to drift overhead. The air currents carried it in from the distance so that it loomed over the landscape.

The mansion was owned by two aristocrats. Two brothers, in fact.

One of the brothers was currently at home in the mansion while the other was away on business. He sat on a white, leather, sectional couch that was in the shape of a right angle. In front of the couch was a large, glass coffee table which was empty except for an ornate, ceramic tea pot and two steaming cups.

The form of the figure was humanoid and angelic. He had a lithe, athletic body, which was clear from the musculature of his arms as he reached for his tea cup. His body was unassuming in presentation. It was cloaked in pristine, white robes that draped over his biceps and shoulders before swathing over his winged back. Matching these religious garments were a pair of ivory-white pants that he wore over his legs. Four pairs of white, feathery wings protruded from holes in the fabric covering his back. Matching these was a fifth pair of wings that extended from the sides of his head.

The sunlight shone through the window and onto his body, giving him a warm glow. The Digimon had long, black hair that flowed down past his shoulders and partway down his back. The raven hair shimmered dully in the sunlight and contrasted with his ivory attire. He had long locks that flowed down past his chin; there was one on each side of his face, as well as one wavy lock that hung down between his eyes and in front of his face. He brushed the fringe aside with his hand as he brought the teacup to his lips. His skin was a soft tan colour which contrasted with the stark white of his garments and the deep black of his hair. His sand-hued face was slender and clean-shaven. His eyes were soft and youthful, but they were also deeply contemplative and reflected a hidden maturity. Above his eyes were long, slim eyebrows that rose up into unique, three-pronged tips at the outer edges of his face. They were furrowed in thought as his comrade continued to speak. The words of his guest reached his ears – long, pointed ears that were lengthy enough to avoid being hidden by his thick, black hair. His left ear was pierced with a golden earring that sparkled in the light.

As the angel Digimon placed his teacup back down on the coffee table, two golden bracelets around his wrist jangled softly. He placed his hands on his lap and gazed across the coffee table to the opposite end of the couch. Sitting across from him was an angel Digimon who was clad from head to toe in soft blue and golden armour that shimmered resplendently in the sunlight. The Seraphimon opposite him gazed at his fellow angel Digimon eagerly, although his words were calm and methodical.

"It is in great part thanks to you that we were able to make such progress on our project. That is why I think it is only natural that you deserve to be at my side as one of the hallowed leaders of the Sky Colony. You shall have many duties, but I have faith that you are more than capable," Seraphimon explained animatedly as he held a teacup and saucer in his hands. "What say you, Bagramon?"

A young Bagramon looked up at Seraphimon and stroked his smooth chin contemplatively. "…It would be an honour, Seraphimon," he responded calmly. "In whatever way I can serve our Exodus project, I will. But what will my responsibilities be?"

"We will all have boundless shifting and dynamic responsibilities early on. As you are aware, the effort required to build a new society is demanding. There will be very much bureaucracy required in order to ensure that everything progresses as we wish it. We will all have to work together harmoniously in order to ensure that Sky Colony: Lambent thrives," Seraphimon explained to his fellow angel. "However, we will each have our own individual roles as well, based on our own talents and the needs of the many. I shall govern over God's laws and God's justice. Ophanimon shall govern over God's love and mercy. Cherubimon shall govern over God's wisdom."

"And myself?" Bagramon questioned, leaning forwards on his legs slightly.

"You shall govern over death…" Seraphimon responded. After a moment, he let out a single chuckle. "I know that must sound intimidating and malevolent, but death is both a natural and unnatural aspect of God's intent. Digimon have a life cycle and it must be ensured that the termination of life runs smoothly up in the Sky Colony. The process of reformatting Digimons' data to the Dark Area will be necessary, even on the Sky Colony."

"Death…" Bagramon repeated, thinking to himself. "Yes, I can see your point. That does make sense. Death is necessary, sad though it is… Very well… I accept the responsibility."

"Thank you. Not everybody would have the fortitude and courage to do so," Seraphimon responded, placing his teacup back down on the plate. "That is why I requested you first, brother."

Bagramon smiled warmly. "I am honoured that you have placed such trust in me, Seraphimon. The same goes for Ophanimon and Cherubimon as well. Without you three, the Religion of Light would never have become as successful as it has been," he responded genuinely.

"We would be nothing were it not for our followers," Seraphimon humbly replied. "As well as our loyal, hardworking friends such as yourself."

"It is a goal well-worth its toil," the black-haired angel explained avidly. "We require the Sky Colonies in order to become closer to the Being of Goodness. These colonies, disconnected from the Digital World, are required in order for our faith to survive."

Seraphimon nodded with agreement, placing his teacup down on the table. "It is a poignant truth, but we are not accepted here. Those who follow Yggdrasil view us as a heretical sect who are corrupting and warping their beliefs. They believe whole-heartedly that Yggdrasil was the one who created the Digital World. We are all learned in the scripture and canon, so we know that there are problems and ambiguities. That is how, after much discussion, deep studying, and heated debate, we have found the truth. That truth is that the Digital World has been created and is being overseen by the Being of Goodness. It may very well be that Yggdrasil is the Being of Goodness in actuality."

"But nobody will ever accept that," Bagramon mused. "Certainly not those who believe that Yggdrasil is the creator and overseer deity. Even those who follow Huanglongmon view us with derision. We are not one of the Two Faiths. That is why the Exodus is necessary. We must go and create a society just for us."

"Yes, we must create the Sky Colonies…" Seraphimon stated with a soft nod. "A beacon in the clouds… A paradise where we can live freely under the direct supervision of God. It is there that we will best be able to serve the Being of Goodness. We will carry out His commands and help to make the Digital World a better place."

"I am as devoted to this cause as you are, Seraphimon. This is our new found purpose. I truly believe that this is the best way for us to eradicate that darkness that exists within the Digital World. It is Angel and Fairy Digimon like ourselves who are most drawn towards the light. It is our responsibility to make sure that this succeeds, as the vanguard of light," Bagramon responded, pensive as he raised the cup to his lips and drank softly. "…You have my full support."

"Thank you, Bagramon. You have my gratitude," Seraphimon answered graciously, bowing his head slightly. "…I do hope that I am not pressuring you with my enthusiasm. Ophanimon and Cherubimon both say that I go too far sometimes. Please, request that I refrain, if I am."

Bagramon smiled and shook his head softly. "I am doing this of my own will, Seraphimon. Like the rest of you, I have seen the light that illuminates the truth of the world. The light of God…" he reassured him. "I will help this Exodus succeed."

"I see. Then you have my eternal thanks and brotherhood," Seraphimon responded, offering his hand across the table to Bagramon.

The black-haired angel Digimon took Seraphimon's gauntlet and shook it gently. "I merely believe that our path is the right one. I have seen too many tears and too much suffering in the Digital World. I wish to put it right," he explained.

"As do I…" Seraphimon concurred, letting go of Bagramon's hand. "So, Bagramon, are there any other questions that you have for me?"

"How is the progress on the Sky Colony going?" the humanoid angel asked, brushing back some of his black hair with his fingers.

"It is progressing as desired. The cloud data is currently being altered into a solid, stable form. Enough clouds will allow us to safely build upon them. At this stage, the cloud data shall be more than strong enough to support a city. Our architects are already well into the planning of the Golden City," Seraphimon responded.

"I see… This project will need as many funds as possible," Bagramon mused.

"Correct. Unfortunately, good will and hard work are not the only ingredients for success," the armoured angel mused.

"…This mansion is worth a lot of money…" the lithe, black-haired angel offered. "There won't be any need for it once we leave for Sky Colony: Lambent."

Seraphimon tilted his head curiously at the proposition. "You mean you wish to sell this place…? You needn't go that far. What of your brother?"

"He won't have any need for it either," Bagramon assured him. "I have already had the land valued. As the elder brother, the deeds of the property and land are in my data signature."

"I see... I shall have no part in your decision," the sky blue archangel replied, not wanting to sway him. "It is entirely yours to make."

Bagramon smiled. "I have already made my decision," he responded.

"In that case, I must thank you once again," Seraphimon stated. He looked at Bagramon with what would be a smile if he weren't wearing a helmet. "However, I really must be going now. There is a meeting at the cathedral tomorrow. We shall be discussing the Exodus and other matters that we must prepare ourselves for," the angel said as he stood to his feet and flexed his ten wings.

Bagramon stood to his feet as well. "I will be there," he reassured him. He walked around the table and stepped up to Seraphimon. "Allow me to see you out."

Seraphimon nodded and placed his hand on Bagramon's shoulder. "Thank you for having me, brother," he told him.

He began to turn and walk out of the large living room, which was contained many bookcases lined with books, scrolls and tomes. The pair began to make their way across the room towards the door on the opposite wall, leading out into the entrance hall.

As they walked into the mansion's marble foyer, the large set of double doors leading outside was open. Standing in the doorway was a tall, broad-shouldered knight. The Digimon, bigger and taller than both Bagramon and Seraphimon, was covered from head-to-toe in black and silver plate armour with gold trimming. A black and blue cape was draped over his back. The dark knight's presence was intimidating for many Digimon to behold.

The knight closed the door behind him and turned just as Bagramon and Seraphimon entered. As he craned his head towards them, the holy light emanating from the chandelier caused his metal face mask, the jagged crest on his breastplate, and his gold, horned helmet to shimmer. His glowing, golden eyes landed on Bagramon and Seraphimon, scrutinising the pair.

"…Bagramon?" he asked in his deep, sophisticated voice.

Bagramon frowned slightly and looked up at the taller Digimon. "DarkKnightmon…" he responded in subdued surprise. "You are back earlier than I expected…"

DarkKnightmon glanced at Seraphimon suspiciously. "I can see that…" he murmured. "How do you do, Seraphimon?"

"I am well, thank you," the archangel politely responded. "And yourself?"

"Fine. I have just come back from Castle Albion," DarkKnightmon answered somewhat curtly.

"Ah, yes… That new order that you and your comrades founded a few years ago. The Order of the Royal Knights, correct?" Seraphimon inquired.

"Correct… We are still outfitting the castle, but we have already begun our operations. Just last week, we intervened in a turf war and put down a bandit raid in a small village that they were extorting," DarkKnightmon explained emphatically.

"Interesting. I certainly hear that it has some prestigious members," Seraphimon responded, placing his hands on his armoured hips. "Alphamon, Omegamon, Magnamon…"

DarkKnightmon nodded affirmatively. "Yes, they are close comrades of mine," he answered proudly. "They are my fellow Royal Knights."

Seraphimon nodded softly. "Well, I hope that it prospers. Good luck, DarkKnightmon," he told the shadowy knight Digimon. "If you will excuse me, I am just leaving."

"Very well…" DarkKnightmon replied dubiously, stepping to the side and out of the way of the large doors.

"Farewell, Bagramon. Thank you for having me, as well as for everything else." Seraphimon stated graciously, looking over at the black-haired angel Digimon. He then placed his firm hand on the ornate, crescent moon-shaped door handle and opened the door. Basked in the morning light, Seraphimon gave the two brothers a nod and flapped his ten wings, taking off into the sky.

As soon as he was gone, DarkKnightmon closed the doors to the mansion. He turned around and gazed at Bagramon with his cool, monochrome, golden eyes. "…What was that about, Brother?" he asked Bagramon suspiciously.

Bagramon gazed at DarkKnightmon, picking up on his pointed tone of voice that needled him slightly. "Seraphimon was simply visiting," he explained calmly, trying to dissuade him. "We were just discussing our faith and what our next steps are to be."

DarkKnightmon frowned in response to his words. "You have been spending a lot of time with Seraphimon and the other angels," he pointed out. "You have been seeing them increasingly more over the past year."

"Indeed I have. They are my comrades. Just like you and your fellow Royal Knights have been spending a lot more time together," Bagramon responded, brushing his hanging lock of black hair to the side.

DarkKnightmon wiped his muddy boots on the entrance mat and then stepped onto the grey marble floor of the mansion foyer. "Of course I have been busy… We are forming a great Order. It requires a lot of time and hard work. It isn't quite the same, elder brother," he responded, pointedly looking at Bagramon.

"I respectfully disagree. The logistics surrounding our Exodus movement will require an immense amount of time and hard work. More than creating an Order, I should think," Bagramon defended, frowning at DarkKnightmon.

The tall, muscular knight scoffed behind his helmet. "More of this 'Exodus' nonsense, Bagramon?" he inquired dismissively.

"It isn't nonsense, DarkKnightmon. The Exodus is happening. We have a concrete strategy for both the long-term and the short-term. We are currently pouring time, effort, and funds into this project. It is no longer a hypothetical dream like you might believe; it is reality," the angel Digimon insisted with an irritated undertone in his otherwise composed voice.

"Very well. If you insist…" DarkKnightmon conceded, although making his doubts clear in his deep voice.

Bagramon sighed and turned around, striding back into the spacious living room. "I assume that you had a long and tiresome trip. There is some hot tea left over in the pot if you would like some," the raven-haired humanoid Digimon explained, glancing over his shoulder at his larger, younger brother.

"I appreciate that," DarkKnightmon responded diplomatically, following him inside the lavish living room. As he walked into the living room, he noticed that it seemed more empty than usual. However, he put that thought aside and walked over to the coffee table. "I cannot tell you how much I need a decent cup of tea…"

"Is the tea situation that bad down in Camaerleon?" Bagramon questioned, going and sitting back down on the white couch. "I would have thought that the Royal Knights would have plenty of it."

"Actually, we are calling it 'Splendour's Reach' now…" the knight corrected. DarkKnightmon angled his head towards his smaller brother with a faint look of levity in his eyes. "Oh, and there is plenty of tea. The problem is that Alphamon keeps spoiling each batch and using us as test subjects for his unholy creations… He added wasabi mayonnaise and green onions to the batch that I had before leaving. It was all I could do to choke it down." DarkKnightmon shook his head severely. "It's madness, Bagramon. He must be stopped."

Bagramon couldn't help but chuckle warmly. "You have my sympathy…" he responded, bending forwards and pouring DarkKnightmon a cup of warm, orange tea. "But I can tell that, despite the horrifying tea, you love it down there."

"Pardon me?" DarkKnightmon asked stoically, not giving anything away.

Bagramon smiled up at DarkKnightmon. "Whenever you come back from the Order, you are full of energy and stories," he noted.

DarkKnightmon took the tea cup and levelled an unconvinced, deadpan expression at Bagramon "Me? I find that hard to believe…"

"Maybe not overtly, but I am your brother; I can detect the subtle differences," Bagramon explained. "You always have something to say about Alphamon or the progress of the Order or your grand vision… You speak much more than you used to..."

DarkKnightmon didn't respond. He quietly brought the cup to his mouth and sipped the steaming liquid.

"I'm glad about that. I am happy that you found friends that you can be comfortable around," Bagramon stated, finishing off his own cup of tea. "It makes me feel less guilty about…" The angel Digimon caught himself and trailed off.

The large, dark paladin frowned. "About what…?" he inquired suspiciously.

DarkKnightmon thought about it for a few moments, quickly putting the pieces together in his mind.

He placed his cup of tea down on the table and gave Bagramon and accusatory leer. "Bagramon… Where is all of the household staff?" he posited, remembering that he noted how empty the mansion seemed compared to usual. "What is going on…?"

Bagramon's smile vanished and he placed his cup down, sighing. He stood to his feet and gazed DarkKnightmon in his cool, golden, monochrome eyes. "I have terminated their contracts and released them with three months' pay in advance," he explained, preparing himself for his younger brother's response.

"…Why would you do that?" DarkKnightmon inquired, his voice, while remaining calm, becoming pointed and icy.

"Because I won't be requiring their services any longer…" Bagramon explained in a calm, matter-of-fact voice.

"And why is that?" the dark paladin scrutinized, leering at his elder brother as if trying to see into his mind.

"Well, you are at Castle Albion for most of the time. You only ever come back here for a day at a time in between months. The price for their services is no longer worth it," Bagramon explained, staring back at DarkKnightmon. "I will not require them, and neither do you."

"Do not deflect the onus of responsibility to me, Bagramon…" DarkKnightmon warned him, his deep voice bristling. "Tell me what is going on here… Although I am confident that I already know…"

Bagramon narrowed his soft, red eyes and leered defensively at his brother. "…I let them go because I plan to sell this mansion and the estate to the town. I have already spoken with the mayor and the treasurer. I will also be selling any non-sentimental furnishings. You can take what you like before I do," he informed him resolutely.

DarkKnightmon's facial features darkened. "I knew it…" he whispered. He grunted and turned his head away. "You are selling our home?"

"For the past few years, you have been living at Castle Albion with the so-called Royal Knights. You never stay here anymore. The upkeep is too expensive for you to have a summer home that you rarely ever visit. This change should not affect you in the slightest," Bagramon explained, folding his arms across his chest.

"Who are you to make that decision without asking me? You cannot do this. This is my home as well, Bagramon," DarkKnightmon protested, clearly offended.

Bagramon frowned gently at DarkKnightmon. "Yes, I can, DarkKnightmon," he insisted. "I am the elder brother. I am the one who inherited this estate. The house, the land… they are in my name and data signature. I can do with it what I please."

DarkKnightmon quietly balled up his black fists as he glared at Bagramon.

Bagramon looked away, unable to help but feel a pang of guilt at the harshness of his words. "…Understand, DarkKnightmon… You know that I wouldn't do this if you didn't have somewhere else, but you do have elsewhere now. You have the Order of the Royal Knights. I will give you a share of the money that I will receive from the sale," he assured him, trying to be softer in his approach.

"…How magnanimous of you. The teachings of the Religion of Light have really rubbed off, haven't they?" DarkKnightmon responded, his voice thick with sarcasm. He placed his hands on his hips and levelled a challenging stare at Bagramon. "And yourself? Where will you live?"

"I no longer need this place. The Exodus is right around the corner," Bagramon responded with a clear, confident voice.

"Oh, yes. Of course. The great 'Exodus'…" DarkKnightmon sardonically retorted, making his opinion on the matter clear. "That was why Seraphimon was here, was it not? He came to fill your mind with more rubbish and meaningless utopian ideals."

Bagramon frowned gently. "Is it not rubbish, DarkKnightmon. If you weren't so close-minded, you would understand that. The Exodus is important to me," he implored him.

"It is so important that you are willing to turn your back on your brother and spend all of our money on the Exodus. That is what you are planning on doing, is it not?" DarkKnightmon pressed further. "You plan to sell this place and use the money on your fanciful project that will amount to nothing. Your mind is clouded by your beliefs and your ideals."

"My mind has never been clearer, brother," Bagramon protested. "You're just a cynic. You're suspicious and distrusting. You always see the worst in everything."

"No, I see things as they are," DarkKnightmon argued, narrowing his golden eyes at his brother. "You are the one with your head in the clouds – quite literally, as it happens…" The dark knight shook his head and placed his cup of tea down. "I suppose that once you leave, you will be having tea with the so-called Being of Goodness instead of myself, hm?"

"Again, you mock my faith… This isn't the first time you have disparaged my new found beliefs. I would have said that it was because you follow Yggdrasil, but I am not even convinced that you have any such convictions whatsoever," Bagramon pointedly replied, glaring at DarkKnightmon. "You joined the Order of the Royal Knights, who are supposed to be agents of Yggdrasil, and yet I have rarely ever heard you espouse the beliefs that Yggdrasil exists as the creator of the Digital World. At least I actually believe in the path that I am choosing."

DarkKnightmon scoffed. "Yes, I am quite aware of your beliefs, Bagramon…" he sardonically commented. "As for my own beliefs… I think that there could very well be an Yggdrasil. That is not what is important. The ideological part of the Order has its benefits, to be sure. However, what is most important is the practical effectiveness of the Order. We will be able to make the Digital World a better place," DarkKnightmon explained honestly. He looked into Bagramon's eyes. "You are free to call me a hypocrite, but the Order of the Royal Knights is not some flight of fancy. We know what we are doing."

"As do we, brother," Bagramon responded. "I know what I am doing. The Exodus is not a flight of fancy; it is a noble investment. We are going to create a holy society in which we will be able to serve God, where we can better ourselves and Digimon-kind, unravel the mysteries of the Digital World, bring justice to those who-"

DarkKnightmon slammed his fist down on the coffee table with frustration. The impact caused the tea cup to bounce and topple over, spilling the liquid everywhere. "It is a cult, Bagramon!" he exclaimed heatedly, his calm exterior breaking. "At least speak with your own words rather than Seraphimon's!"

Bagramon scowled back at him. "It is not a cult!" he argued back, standing to his feet with clenched fists. "Why must you undermine everything that I do?!"

"Because you constantly dance through life, guided by your mercurial emotions and misguided ideals. You are being led astray and you don't even realise it. You believe so strongly and so arrogantly in your own convictions that you never stop to question whether you are doing the right thing or not. You are blind, Bagramon!" DarkKnightmon countered, standing to his feet as well.

"I am not blind, DarkKnightmon. You are simply throwing a tantrum because you aren't getting your way! You don't like the idea that I am in charge of this property and its money. You can't stand the idea of not being in control," Bagramon fired back, glaring at his taller brother. "You love to pretend that you are intellectually superior and more pragmatic, but the truth is that you are simply jealous of me and my power. You always have been! You resent the fact that I am the older brother. That is why you refuse to be happy for me."

DarkKnightmon narrowed his eyes and glared coldly at Bagramon. "Me? Envious of you…? You really are delusional…" he icily responded. He shook his head with a veneer of calm. "What I can't stand, Bagramon, is watching you get taken advantage of by fanatical ideologues who think that they can create a utopia for their pitiful, fallacious, upstart, religious sect. You are being made a fool, Bagramon. You are being manipulated into giving up our money to a trio of deluded charlatans. That was the true reason why Seraphimon was here: to swindle you out of money."

Bagramon scowled deeper. "We have found the truth, DarkKnightmon! Through years of deep study and discussion, we have found the truth about Digimon and the Digital World! You simply refuse to believe because it clashes with your own small-minded, cynical world view. I am not being made a fool."

DarkKnightmon closes his eyes and released a hollow laugh. "Ah, I see… You are correct… You are a fool," he said with sad realization. "You are a fool for believing in an imaginary deity. Do you really think that our world is governed by an omnipotent, omniscient, intrinsically moral being? Have you seen the amoral world that we live in, Bagramon? At the very most, there is a being or a core program that has created the Digital World and that runs processes that stabilize the natural laws of the Digital World. Yggdrasil or Huanglongmon - or whoever - is a passive being that exists to keep the world in order. It is amoral and neutral. It serves as a balance - nothing more. What you have 'discovered' is a falsehood. You simply believe what you want to believe. You are swallowing every fanciful tale that this cult of heretics is feeding you."

The corners of the angel Digimon's mouth turned downwards. "I find that awfully rich coming from you, brother… You are a hypocrite. You joined the Order of the Royal Knights; it is in your very creed to serve Yggdrasil. Are you telling me that you are taking orders from a mindless, non-sentient program? A series of code? If that's true, then I do worry for not just you, but for all of us in the Digital World. …However, I am not convinced. Does the Aloof Hermit really believe that, DarkKnightmon? Do the other Royal Knights share the same view as you?"

"I believe that they are smart enough not to rely on blind faith when making their decisions. If they know something about Yggdrasil, then it is because they have reason to," DarkKnightmon coldly responded. "That is more than can be said for you and your fellow exiles."

Bagramon glowered at DarkKnightmon and took a step forwards. "I have had enough of your smug, condescending, derisive opinions!" he exclaimed angrily. "You believe that your precious Order is the only possible way of doing any good for this world. I think it's all a sham. You're just a member of a glorified adventurers' club who goes around beating up bandits for fun. You style yourselves as noble heroes, but let us not forget the sort of 'elite' company that you keep: a Digimon who was the precursor of a massive calamity, and a Digimon who has the potential to cause another…"

At this, DarkKnightmon balled up his fists tightly. There was a gleam in his golden eyes as he restrained his anger. "Do not insult my friends, Bagramon," DarkKnightmon warned him.

"Then do not insult mine," Bagramon countered sharply, his anger reflected clearly in his eyes. "If you really think that your Order can do anything of worth, then you are the delusional one. There is more to changing the world than simply might and power. You are short-sighted, Brother. You always have been. I am looking far into the future, whereas you think that you can fix everything in a matter of years."

"You are calling me naïve, Bagramon?" the dark knight asked with an incredulous chuckle. "You really have fooled yourself."

Bagramon looked at DarkKnightmon with narrowed eyes, his body radiating restrained frustration. "Naïve…? No… You are cold, cynical, spiteful, and malicious. You are clinging onto a stagnating world, DarkKnightmon. You are arrogant enough to think that you and your friends can do something about it. I will leave the Digital World behind and move to the Sky Colonies in the Exodus. Once we have finished building our model society, we will return and spread our success to the rest of the Digital World. That is how true change will be achieved."

DarkKnightmon stared at Bagramon quietly. His cold eyes bore into his older brother's passionate ones, as if it was a battle of wills. After a few intense moments, DarkKnightmon turned his gaze away. He shifted his body and bent down to pick up the cup of tea that he had spilt on the coffee table.

"Very well. Leave, then," DarkKnightmon told him brusquely. "I obviously cannot convince you otherwise."

Bagramon frowned deeper. "I was going to leave regardless," he assured him.

"You're a fool, Bagramon," DarkKnightmon answered, placing the teacup back on the plate.

"You are free to think that, brother," Bagramon told the large, armoured knight. "I don't require your permission or your approval."

"I'm aware; you never sought it to begin with," the paladin bitterly replied.

The angel Digimon narrowed his eyes and looked away. "I would have if you were a little more understanding and a little less demeaning," he muttered.

DarkKnightmon glanced at his older brother. "You mean, you would rather that I lied and told you what you wanted to hear. That is not something that I can do, brother," he explained, standing up straight with defiant pride. "However, you have made your decision and I have said all that I could. You may sell the house, take the money, and go on your all-important Exodus to your utopian Sky Colonies. I won't stop you."

Bagramon scowled and turned to DarkKnightmon. "Damn it, DarkKnightmon!" he shouted in frustration. "Why must you be so obstinate?"

The younger of the two brothers leered at Bagramon coolly. "I'm not… You are free to leave. I am not standing in your way. I have accepted the fact that you cannot be swayed," he responded calmly, although his agitation was clear in his deep and collected voice. "However, if you are waiting for my blessing, you will be waiting a very long time."

"Very well, then…" Bagramon answered, balling his fists up and trying to restrain his anger. "Then that is all there is to say, isn't there? You have your life and I have mine. You have your Royal Knights and your boundless cynicism, whereas I have my dreams and ideals."

DarkKnightmon's eyes darkened softly. "We have been going in different directions for some time now… Ever since you have started meeting with Seraphimon and the other angel Digimon on a regular basis… Ever since you became swept up in this so-called 'Religion of Light'…" He looked away. "I cease to recognise you, Bagramon. You have become deluded, obsessive, fastidiously studious, and arrogantly certain of your own beliefs. You are not the brother that I once knew…" he spoke, his voice sombre and sour.

"And what about you?!" Bagramon argued adamantly. "You think that I am the only one who has changed?! I've watched you change before my very eyes, DarkKnightmon." He gritted his teeth and glared at him. "SkullKnightmon…"

DarkKnightmon narrowed his golden eyes, locking them with Bagramon's passionate gaze.

"SkullKnightmon… That's what I used to call you. He used to be my younger brother… Intelligent, witty, sarcastic, shrewd, but always caring…" Bagramon bitterly recalled, remembering back into the past. "That is, until you met your other half… DeadlyAxemon. That aggressive, savage, boisterous, and foul-tongued excuse for a Digimon… He became your new brother… Ever since then, I have seen you change for the worse."

DarkKnightmon raised his hand in front of his chest and closed his fist tightly. "I am still SkullKnightmon… I am the dominant component of the DigiXros. DeadlyAxemon, my faithful companion and my sworn younger brother, is an important part of me now…" he explained, staring intensely at Bagramon. "You never liked DeadlyAxemon, from the first moment that I invited him into our home…"

"Now that we are putting everything out in the open… no, I haven't," Bagramon honestly explained. "He is a ruthless and vulgar little brute. He is leading you astray with his nasty ways. I've watched your moral character deteriorate into the cynic that stands before me."

DarkKnightmon released a half-scoff, half-chuckle. "Utter nonsense… Don't use DeadlyAxemon as a scapegoat, Bagramon. I have a mind of my own… As I travelled the world, I brushed shoulders with the worst Digimon and experienced many different things, many of them sad and unpleasant. I have come to my own conclusion that this world is flawed. You may call me cynical, but I see the world for what it is. You cannot accept the fact that I have changed. Instead, you put the blame on the object of your jealousy: DeadlyAxemon. You say that I am jealous of you, but you are jealous of him, Bagramon. You feel threatened that I chose him as a brother. You feel threatened by the Royal Knights as well. You know that you cannot compare."

"Ridiculous… That Digimon is hardly your brother," Bagramon answered scathingly. "However, I am starting to realise that you both deserve one another. Your mind has become as cynical and your tongue as cruel as his. I wonder how long it will take for you to turn against me completely…?"

DarkKnightmon grunted and turned his gaze away. "…And I am starting to realise that I can no longer call you my brother, Bagramon…" he said sullenly.

Bagramon winced gently. "…Yes… Me, as well…" he bitterly agreed with a heavy heart. "…You and I are no longer brothers…"

With that exchange, a tense, painful silence began to creep into room. Neither looked at the other, and neither knew what to say next. They stood opposite to each other, with rays of light shining in from the window and landing between them.

The silence was empty but deafening. It seemed to amplify as the reality of the situation set in. Their intense feelings, which had been building slowly for years, had finally come out explosively, and a scorched earth was left in their wake.

DarkKnightmon released a breathy exhale. "Very well, then… That is all there is to say…" he finally spoke. "I will collect my things and move to Castle Albion permanently."

Bagramon grimaced and turned away. "V-Very well…" he responded, flustered. "That would be for the best for both of us…"

"I agree… I will go take stock of my possessions," DarkKnightmon responded, turning and striding towards the door that led to the entrance foyer.

Bagramon watched as DarkKnightmon walked away from him. He was unable to help but feel pangs of guilt in his heart. "…I will send you a generous share of the money once the sale of the property is formalized," he reassured him.

"That is not necessary, but if it makes you feel better to do so, then you may," DarkKnightmon answered, not turning around to look at him as he neared the doorway.

Upon reaching the threshold, DarkKnightmon stopped in the doorway. He turned his head slightly and, out of the corner of his eye, glanced back at Bagramon.

"Goodbye, br-… Bagramon…"

Bagramon winced and looked over at DarkKnightmon. "…Goodbye…" he answered wistfully.

Upon hearing his farewell, DarkKnightmon continued walking without another word. He stepped through the threshold and disappeared from sight, leaving Bagramon alone in the living room.

Bagramon stood on his own in the empty room, listening to his brother's echoing footsteps getting further and further away from him. With a grimace on his youthful face, Bagramon turned and stood in front of the window. He felt the warmth of the sunlight against his body as the rays engulfed his form. A tear of guilt and regret rolled down his tanned face, sparkling in the light as it fell.

In spite of it, Bagramon released a deep, centering breath and stared into the sky, which was a bright blue tint, complete with a rolling cloud. He began to feel comfort as he gazed upon the fluffy, white cloud - its thick, ethereal body laced with light. Its beauty imbued within him a sense of hope, even with everything that happened. He closed his eyes and acknowledged the pain that he felt, hoping that he would be able to move on. He knew that he had a bright future ahead of him.

That was what he told himself.

Bagramon released his breath and stared towards the sky. Towards the future.

"Goodbye, SkullKnightmon…"

---

A year had passed since that day.

The Exodus was well underway. Sky Colony: Lambent had been successfully built on the clouds. Faithful angel and fairy Digimon began to move to the Sky Colony to help with the rest of the colony's construction.

The three spheres of the Sky Colony had been successfully completed, as well as many of the most important buildings. Among these buildings were the Supernal Sanctum, the Palace of the First Sphere, the Eternal Chapel, the Library of Wisdom, and the Court of Truth. They were stunning, architectural feats, made of the smoothest stone and the most beautiful marble, constructed by some of the Digital World's finest architects. The buildings were cultural and aesthetic marvels that encapsulated the hope and devotion of the angels and the Exodus project.

Now that the structural foundations of the Sky Colony had been firmly built, the construction of the Golden City, the main city of Sky Colony: Lambent, was going along nicely. There were building sites all over the three spheres of the Sky Colony, but especially on the Third Sphere, the largest of the three. Grey and gold buildings were gradually but efficiently being built across the Sky Colony in a precise, methodical fashion.

Clouds drifted serenely over the Sky Colony, and the sun cast warm rays across the Golden City, causing it to give off a truly golden radiance.

The mega platform of the Third Sphere was surrounded at different points and levels by smaller platforms that were built on peripheral clouds. Connecting the various platforms of the Sky Colony were beautiful bridges of stone and marble, which also served to keep the smaller clouds moving at the same speed as the larger ones.

On one of these bridges was Bagramon. He leaned against the marble railing of the bridge and gazed over the side. He could see the Digital World a few kilometers below the floating Sky Colony. It was partially obscured by small, low-hanging clouds, but he could see the greens, browns, and blues of the distant landscape. A part of him missed Digital World's beauty, but his resolve didn't falter. He came to the Sky Colony for a reason. That reason was to help the world that he left behind.

Bagramon peered over the edge and examined the ground far below. There was a distant look in his eyes that revealed his inner reflection.

"Is there something on your mind, Bagramon?" a deep voice inquired.

Bagramon stood up straight and turned his head towards the familiar baritone. He saw a large, pink, rabbit-like, angel Digimon walking across the bridge, towards him. "Cherubimon," he greeted the much larger archangel. "Nothing in particular…"

"You seem deep in thought," Cherubimon observed, smiling softly as he meandered up to Bagramon's side. "Is it an issue that I may be able to help with?"

The jet black-haired angel Digimon shook his head. "No. I was merely thinking about the progress that we are making. We still have a ways to go. We have set up the bureaucratic side, but we still need to finish construction of the three Spheres. We also require more followers," he mused.

Cherubimon smiled and rested his large arms on the marble guard rail. "Patience, Bagramon. These things require time and effort," he assured him. "We are making good progress on the Golden City. We also have followers spreading the word of our beliefs and our Exodus in many of the major cities. I believe that we shall be able to resume normal life here within a year."

"Yes, you are probably right," Bagramon responded, resting his arms back on the railing and gazing over the precipice.

Cherubimon smiled and looked down at the smaller archangel Digimon. "Is there anything else on your mind?" he questioned.

A tiny grin appeared in the corner of Bagramon's mouth. "You are too perceptive for your own good, Cherubimon…" Bagramon answered. He looked up at the large rabbit Digimon. "Do you miss the Digital World at all?"

"At times…" Cherubimon admitted. "What of yourself?"

"Not exactly… I am just thinking about the things that we left behind, I suppose," the humanoid angel explained.

Cherubimon nodded sagely. "I can understand that…" the large archangel Digimon concurred. He smiled softly and gazed off into the cloudy horizon. "I sometimes think about my apprentice, Sleipmon. We parted ways with different beliefs a couple years ago. However, I still care about him."

"Different beliefs, hm?" Bagramon inquired with interest. "He is a believer of Yggdrasil?"

Cherubimon nodded again, this time more softly. "He is. Just like I used to be. Back when I helped to start the Religion of Light, he couldn't understand why I would turn my back on my beliefs. We had a long talk about it, and I explained to him that I didn't view it that way. I merely altered my perception in light of new information. Many of the things within the Yggdrasil belief system still hold true. However, there are things that I believe are better explained by our beliefs."

"A divergence from canon…" Bagramon mused thoughtfully. "And what happened? Could you and your apprentice reconcile your differences of opinion?"

"Thankfully, we were able to… We agreed to disagree, but we are still very close. Sleipmon and I occasionally exchange letters, but I have not heard back from him for some time," Cherubimon answered, more to himself than to Bagramon. He gave Bagramon a reassuring smile. "…I believe that we should be able to co-exist with the other two faiths. Truthfully, I do not believe that they are so different from us. It is important that we are able to understand each other rather than view others with inferiority or suspicion. That is what I taught to Sleipmon, and I stand by those beliefs."

"Those are commendable ideals to strive for," Bagramon explained, looking forwards, his eyes a bit distant. He remembered his brother DarkKnightmon and how it was impossible for them to co-exist with their different opinions. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "So, your apprentice… Where is he now?" he asked, changing the subject.

Cherubimon nodded and bent forwards, leaning his chin on his large hands. "He resides in Ocean Cove. As my apprentice, he took over my previous job. Sleipmon guards the Arcane Ruins. The place that I once thought held the secrets of the Digital World's creation," he explained. He released a cross between a sigh and a hum. "I do miss our long chats."

Bagramon nodded quietly and continued staring into the cloudy sky with thought.

Cherubimon lifted his head and looked at Bagramon with an understanding smile. "I heard that you dealt with your first deletion today…"

The raven-haired angel smiled a bit. "Ah, I should have guessed…" he knowingly responded.

"How are you feeling?" Cherubimon asked him with a deep, concerned tone. "If the burden of governing death is too much to bear, please, tell us. We would not wish to put you through any pain."

"No, I'm just introspective. That's all," Bagramon assured him, shaking his head softly. "I don't feel upset or guilty. Deletion is part of the natural cycle. The natural processes must be overseen, just like anything else. And, sometimes, they must be enforced."

Cherubimon nodded at Bagramon. "I sincerely hope that there will not be any of the latter. Although killing out of the defence of oneself and others is sometimes necessary, it is something that should be avoided if at all possible," he explained.

Bagramon stood up and turned to Cherubimon. "I completely agree. Not without just cause, and even then, it should be used sparingly," he stated.

"That is why you are the right Digimon for the job," Cherubimon answered with a smile.

"That is what I said, as well," another deep voice stated.

Bagramon looked past Cherubimon's large body, down the long, marble bridge. Walking towards the bridge from the city was Seraphimon and another Digimon. The Digimon beside the armoured archangel had the appearance of a young, teenage boy. The boy was fair-skinned and slender, and he was clad in a traditional, white toga. Intricate, violet tattoos ran down the left side of his body. The jagged designs of the paint lined his chest, his arm, his leg, and his cheek. Sprouting from his back were five pairs of angelic wings, covered in pristine, white feathers. Four of the pairs pointed outwards, fluttering slightly in the breeze, while one pair curled around his waist. A final pair of wings emerged from the side of his head.

The young angel Digimon's blond hair blew slightly in the soft breeze as he walked alongside Seraphimon. He looked around curiously with striking, blue eyes, which seemed to impart both curiosity and maturity. As he strode over, the golden, holy rings around his wrists and ankles rattled softly.

Cherubimon turned towards them and smiled. "Ah, Seraphimon, Lucemon…" he greeted.

"Hello, Cherubimon," Seraphimon responded before looking over at the slender, black-haired angel Digimon. "Bagramon, how are you?"

"I am fine, thank you," he answered, gazing back at Seraphimon and Lucemon. "Greetings."

"What are you two doing?" Cherubimon wondered.

"We are taking a much needed break from our duties," Seraphimon explained, gesturing to Lucemon.

"It pleases me to know that you are finally pacing yourself, Seraphimon," Cherubimon noted with a playful smile. "While we do have much more to do, it is important to take a step back now and again."

"So Ophanimon has told me…" Seraphimon responded wearily, as if having heard it a thousand times.

Cherubimon let out a deep, soft chuckle. "There is wisdom in her words," he pointed out to him.

"So Ophanimon has told me," Seraphimon echoed dryly.

Bagramon managed a small smile and turned to face Lucemon. "Lucemon, how are things going at the Library of Wisdom?" he asked him.

"Hm… Things are going well," Lucemon responded with a smile. "I am still in the process of sorting all of the texts and transcribing those that are in poor quality. I am about 25% finished."

"I know you are the curator of the library, but it sounds like a lot of work," Bagramon mused. "I find myself having a lot of free time, if you need any help."

"Thank you, but that is unnecessary," Lucemon insisted. He looked at Cherubimon with a smile. "Cherubimon assists me when he can. To be honest, it isn't as daunting of a task as it was when I first started. It just requires a lot of discipline."

"Which is something that Lucemon has plenty of," Seraphimon explained, patting the short angel's back.

"It still surprises me that a Digimon so young has such talent and commitment," Bagramon observed, looking at Lucemon.

"Lucemon is something of a prodigy," Cherubimon noted.

Lucemon smiled. "I suppose so."

"Impressive… You must be if you can handle the contents of such an expansive library," Bagramon noted.

Seraphimon walked over to Bagramon and Cherubimon on the bridge. "Bagramon, how are you doing? The first deletion today has been summoned to my attention," he asked him with a bit of concern in his echoing voice.

"I am fine, thank you. A deletion isn't enough to break my spirit," Bagramon calmly assured him. "It is my job, after all. There is still much for us to do here."

"That pleases me to hear," Seraphimon responded with a soft nod. "In addition, if you and Cherubimon can spare the time later, I would like some assistance in going over additions that Ophanimon and I have made to the legal code."

"I'll be there, Seraphimon," Bagramon answered with an affirmative nod.

"Of course," Cherubimon agreed as well.

"Good," the golden archangel said appreciatively. "Lucemon and I are headed to the Third Sphere for some mid-day nourishment. Would either of you like to partake?"

"I would," Cherubimon answered, stepping forwards.

"No, thank you," Bagramon replied. "I would like some time to reflect on my own."

Seraphimon nodded. "Very well… If you would like to share your thoughts, do not hesitate to do so," he assured the black-haired archangel. "Problems are best addressed when thy heart is bared to a friend."

"Thank you, but it won't be necessary." Bagramon looked up at the large, pink archangel beside him. "Cherubimon has been quite helpful."

"Of course he has. Cherubimon is an excellent listener," Seraphimon answered, turning to the rabbit Digimon.

Cherubimon grinned. "Do I sense a joke about my ears coming?" he wryly inquired.

"Not at all, brother. It is all in your head," Seraphimon assured him with a touch of light-hearted humour in his otherwise professional voice.

"My ears are indeed in my head. Thank you, Seraphimon," Cherubimon responded with dry wit in his deep baritone voice.

The two archangels spoke amicably with each other as they began to walk away from the bridge, heading towards the Golden City.

Lucemon gave Bagramon a lingering look, followed by a short nod. The young angel then began to follow Seraphimon and Cherubimon away.

Bagramon watched as they strode off down a marble path towards the city. As the three angels disappeared around a corner, Bagramon turned back to leaning on the bridge's railing. He leaned forwards on his arms as he observed the sun and clouds playing off each other. Staring off into the cloudy horizon, Bagramon thought to himself quietly.

"The one who governs over the aspect of death… That is my responsibility." he pondered. "I oversee the passage of a Digimon's life into deletion, reformatting, and rebirth. It is a cycle, both natural and unnatural… Not only do I oversee the termination of Digimons' lifespans, but I am also expected to carry out the punishment of those who carry out the gravest of crimes… My actions see the passage of Digimons' data to the Dark Area for judgment."

Bagramon closed his eyes as he thought. "This is something that I can do. I can close off my emotions and do what needs to be done for the greater good of the Digital World. I am able to delete those who threaten the safety and dreams of the Heavenly Choir," he mused calmly. He opened his eyes a bit and looked down pensively at the Digital World below. "But… what is the purpose of death? Why would the Being of Goodness create such a process that leaves sorrow, anger, and regret in its wake? Is it merely a natural process that comes with being a Digimon? Did the Being of Goodness create it for a reason? Is it a means of balancing out the population?"

He spotted on the marble railing one of his white feathers. Bagramon carefully picked the feather up and observed it. "Once every several hundred years, there is a calamity that wipes out a massive proportion of the Digimon population. A cycle-ending tragedy that leaves smouldering ruins in its wake. …Most recently, it was the Death-X Incident. A massive swarm of undead mutants that ravaged the land. The percentage of Digimon killed was in the double digits… Was there a particular purpose for all of that devastation and sorrow? Or was it just something that happened without reason? Was it really a mad scientist whose research on that prototype Digimon ended up going awry? Did God plan that? Or was He powerless to stop it? Did He even want to stop it?"

Bagramon shook his head and released his feather, letting it float over the side and drift slowly down towards the Digital World. "I don't know why I am getting so philosophical. I suppose it is because it was the first deletion that I have overseen… It must be causing my mind to wander…" The angel stood up straight with pride and resolve. "There is no room for idle doubts and foolish, existential questions. I know what my duty is and I am proud to carry it out. I will guide the termination of the good and execute the evil whenever justice wills it so. I am a proud servant of God, a loyal believer of the Heavenly Choir, and a friend to the Three Great Angels."

Bagramon turned and gazed towards the Golden City with determination, the sunlight flickering in his narrow, red eyes.

"I am Bagramon, the Archangel of Death."

---

Decades of years had passed.

The Sky Colonies prospered. The Golden City had been long completed and the Heavenly Choir was well established. They were relatively minor players in the Digital World and they mostly kept to themselves, focusing on the internal rather than the external. The Religion of Light was growing in influence; it still paled in comparison to the Yggdrasil and Huanglongmon beliefs, but it was gaining more followers.

Things had been going so well that they had created two more Sky Colonies, Empyrea and Sanctea. These colonies were smaller and trailed behind Lambent on different clouds. They were built to accommodate the growing population of the Sky Colonies as it increased in followers and structure. Things seemed to be going well for the Heavenly Choir. At least, on the exterior.

However, there were ruptures below the surface…

A throng of angel and fairy Digimon were gathered in the large colosseum on the First Sphere on Lambent. The Forum of Judgment was a marvelous piece of architecture, built in a classical style. It was a fully circular amphitheatre with seating tiers on every side, surrounding the expansive open area in the middle. Unlike some colosseums, this wasn't used for combat or games. The Forum of Judgment was primarily a public space where official decrees were announced to a wide audience. When not used for official matters, presentations of the arts were sometimes allowed to be held there. This included the productions of plays, performances, chorals, poetry readings, and art exhibits.

However, the Forum of Judgment had another, more sinister purpose as well. It was the place where the worst criminals of the Heavenly Choir were brought for public and divine punishment after their trial in the Court of Truth.

That was what was taking place now. A large, wooden stage was set up in the center. On one end of the raised platform were the Three Great Angels. Seraphimon, Ophanimon, and Cherubimon looked at the center of the dais, where the criminal was put.

In the middle of the platform was an Angemon. His hands were shackled behind his back and he kneeled before the Three Great Angels. There was a defiant glare on his face.

Standing next to him was Bagramon, garbed in ceremonial, golden armour and black robes. He looked down at the prisoner with a cold yet pensive expression. Clasped between his hands was a long sword, resting with its tip against the wooden floor. With cool red eyes, he silently gazed at the criminal, patiently waiting the moment that he would have to deliver judgment unto him.

The whole colosseum was stark. There were no cheers or hisses. The arena was completely quiet, silenced by discipline, respect, and anticipation. On the lowest tier of the stands, Lucemon sat with the likes of SlashAngemon, ClavisAngemon, and Dominimon. Lucemon watched with a thoughtful gaze.

"…Angemon, do you acknowledge the crimes that you have committed?" Seraphimon asked, his voice sharp and firm like the steel of a sword. "The crimes against the Heavenly Choir and God Himself?"

Angemon scowled. "What crimes have I committed aside from speaking the truth?" he demanded.

"The crimes you have committed… include high treason and heresy," the archangel responded resolutely. "You sold top secret information about the Sky Colonies to our enemies and rivals on the Digital World."

"I sold nothing. I passed that information on for free. They deserved to know what the Heavenly Choir was up to," Angemon insisted.

"Treason, nonetheless," Seraphimon spoke, his voice echoing across the completely silent colosseum like the reverberations of thunder. "And, as bad as that, if not worse, is your heresy… You have been disseminating subversive falsehoods, criticizing not only the Three Great Angels – we, who are closest to God - but also the entire nature of the Heavenly Choir and the Being of Goodness Himself!"

"Hmph…" Angemon muttered with outwards obstinacy.

Seraphimon calmly turned his head to Bagramon. "Bagramon, if you please. The evidence that was presented at Angemon's trial."

Bagramon nodded quietly and turned to the table beside him. After briefly inspecting the contents of the table, he picked up a small pile of identical papers as well as a large scroll. With one hand, he held them up in front of himself.

"Pamphlets that Angemon had been secretly handing out at his poetry club," Seraphimon explained. "Fortunately, none of the members took the pamphlet seriously, and one of the club's members reported him with a copy of such a pamphlet. The Powers raided his home and found many more copies of the leaflets that he had been printing in secrecy. They also discovered that scroll. It is Angemon's personal journal, where he openly speaks utterances of treason, heresy, apostasy, and blasphemy."

"He has admitted that the journal and pamphlets belong to him," Cherubimon added with a soft frown.

"And so he has been found guilty," Ophanimon spoke, looking at the kneeling Angemon, a neutral tone to her voice and appearance.

Seraphimon looked at Angemon directly. "Do you deny these accusations?" he questioned.

Angemon raised his head and leered through his helmet at Seraphimon. "I cannot deny the truth of my own words. Not a single word," he answered with emphatic resolve.

Cherubimon folded his large arms behind his back as he gazed at the accused heretic. "We offer you this chance to recant, Angemon. Recant publically and your life will be spared. Otherwise, you will face the full weight of justice. You should consider your next words very carefully," Cherubimon advised him.

"Unlike yourselves, I am no hypocrite," Angemon answered contentiously. "I will not recant the truth."

"Thou hast such arrogance…" Seraphimon murmured, his voice reverberating behind his helmet.

Ophanimon's lips curved downwards softly. "Do not be stubborn, Angemon… Are your misguided ideas worth your life?"

"Are yours?" Angemon fired straight back.

Seraphimon clenched his fists lightly. "…Was that a threat?" he demanded.

"Seraphimon, temper yourself," Cherubimon said to his comrade. The large archangel Digimon looked at Angemon with a beseeching frown. "Please, Angemon. Recant for your own sake... Do not be obstinate," he pleaded. "Do not make this a dark day in the Sky Colonies."

"Your obstinacy is what will cause dark days for the Sky Colonies," Angemon responded bitterly. "If I am to be deleted, my blood will be on your hands. My blood will be the proof of your hypocrisy and fallacious beliefs."

"I have heard enough," Seraphimon thundered. He extended his hand towards Bagramon. "Bagramon, if you please. Prepare yourself."

At first, Bagramon didn't hear him. He had been focused on gazing at the kneeling heretic. The Angemon was so convinced that he was right. There was a certainty in his doubt. Likewise, the Three Great Angels were positive that he was wrong. There was a certainty in their belief as well.

Something tugged at Bagramon's insides. The intangible feeling slithered through his stomach like a snake, causing him discomfort and unease. It crept through him, niggling, pulling, and prodding at his core. It was a sensation that he hadn't felt in decades.

It was the soft, creeping feeling of doubt.

He didn't know why it was there, but for some reason, the situation unfolding before him caused him pause. Normally, he would carry out his duties without question; that was the way of the Heavenly Choir. Society was a well-structured, efficient machine with clear rules and hierarchy. His duties were clear to him and he had no hesitation in carrying them out. He had executed other Digimon before: murderers, traitors, spies, heretics… He was not unused to killing in the name of God's justice. However, something about this Angemon began to cast doubt inside of him. He was so certain in his dissenting beliefs, despite all evidence seeming to point to the contrary. Was he crazy? No… He seemed enlightened, calm and confident in the way that he spoke.

Fortunately, Seraphimon didn't pick up on Bagramon's wandering mind, as Cherubimon's deep voice spoke up in protest. "Please, Seraphimon, give him another chance to repent," Cherubimon insisted.

"To what purpose? He had his chance. It is clear that he has no intentions of changing his mind," Seraphimon stated.

Cherubimon looked at Ophanimon. Ophanimon sighed remorsefully. "I'm sorry, Cherubimon, but we both know that there are only so many times that we are able to ask before it no longer serves any purpose. Angemon will not budge. God's mercy can only be extended to those who accept it," she explained.

Cherubimon grimaced and turned his head away. "Very well… This is the verdict that we have reached…" he murmured, although making his misgivings clear.

Seraphimon turned back to Bagramon. "Bagramon?" he questioned.

Bagramon was pulled to attention and he seamlessly turned to Seraphimon. "Yes?" he questioned.

"Please prepare to execute God's judgment," the gold and blue archangel commanded decisively.

"Yes, Seraphimon," Bagramon responded, raising his blade from the ground without hesitation.

Angemon scowled and eyed the rising blade, his fists clenched and his wrists straining the manacles.

"Is there anything that you wish to say, Angemon?" Seraphimon asked him. "This is your final chance."

"All it would take is a few words," Cherubimon added, his words emphatic and beseeching.

The heretic bowed his head quietly for a few moments. "I have a few things that I would like to say…" he spoke up, his voice wavering.

Bagramon looked down at the Angemon with interest. Was he going to recant? The audience looked on with bated breath as well. Lucemon was particularly interested in what the heretic would say next, as he watched with calm but curious blue eyes.

Suddenly, Angemon's resolve hardened and he straightened his back. He lifted his head and gazed around at all of the onlookers in the stadium. "All of you! Ask yourselves this! Do you think that we can continue to live in an ivory tower, detached from the rest of the Digital World?! Can we pass our holier-than-thou judgment onto everybody else while living in this false utopia?! Is that what God wants?! A society just for angel Digimon?!" he shouted. "If God really did create the Digital World, is this what God's representatives should be doing?! Should we be ignoring the vast majority of the population of the Digital World in favour of our own little society?! This is not the manifestation of the Being of Goodness' will, and if it is, is God truly a moral being?!"

"What…?" Seraphimon spoke, quietly seething at Angemon's words. He took a step forwards but felt a hand on his arm, halting him. He turned to see Ophanimon gripping him and gazing at him with a soft expression.

"Let him have his final moments," she said to him. "It would be unseemly to silence him."

Cherubimon watched quietly, a rueful look on his face.

Seraphimon sighed and conceded, although somewhat reluctantly. "Yes… You are right…"

Angemon turned and gestured his head towards the Three Great Angels. "If they were really the representatives of God, would they be spilling the blood of somebody who merely questioned their beliefs?! Is a questioning mind so wrong?! Is it so wrong to point out the flaws and hypocrisy of what we are being told to believe?!" he demanded.

"It is wrong to give our secrets to our enemies and endanger the whole of the Heavenly Choir," Seraphimon resolutely said.

"How else will you all change?" Angemon asked him with a sneer. "Those that we left behind on the Digital World will rise up and knock you all down from your high tower! This foolish idea was started by three Digimon who thought that they knew better. They built an entire society around the idea that they are the ones who are closest to God. It is utter nonsense!"

Lucemon watched the Angemon speak ardently. His soft, studious gaze was fixated on him.

Cherubimon frowned angrily and stepped forwards. "You say that, but have you ever conversed with the Being of Goodness? We have, Angemon…! None of it is nonsense, apart from what you are suggesting!" he passionately retorted.

"And the Being of Goodness is telling you to kill? How much blood has been spilled in the name of God?" Angemon asked. "What kind of God asks that of His followers? What sort of cruel, unjust God treats Digimon preferentially and commands that some be deleted? Is that the sort of God all of you want to follow?!" he finished with a passionate shout.

There was silence among the on-looking Digimon. None of them reacted to his words.

Bagramon watched the Angemon quietly. The heretic walked a fine line between truth and madness, it sounded to him. Some of the things he said touched a chord in Bagramon's heart. The argument about justice particularly resonated with him. They were thoughts that had entered his mind before. They were thoughts that he ignored and discarded to the edge of his mind, far away from his foremost thought processes. They were dangerous, destructive ideas that he couldn't afford to give a moment's attention to. He had a duty and he believed in the Heavenly Choir. It was what he left his old life behind for. He wouldn't be swayed by idle doubt.

However, he felt discomfort upon feeling these thoughts return to him. Questions began nipping at the edges of his mind. His heart faltered.

The heretic went quiet and bowed his head. "I have said all that I can say… My heart is at ease…" he explained to the angel Digimon around him.

"Very well…" Cherubimon said, looking at Bagramon.

"Bagramon, are you ready?" Seraphimon asked the raven-haired angel Digimon.

Bagramon nodded and dauntlessly raised his sword, holding it over the Angemon's head with its tip pointing downwards towards his neck. Without question, he remained perfectly still and awaited his signal.

"Are you prepared for your judgment?" Seraphimon asked Angemon.

"Yes," Angemon answered with a sharp breath.

"May peace be with you when your soul is reborn," Ophanimon said gently.

"Light be upon you," Seraphimon said to Angemon. He turned and nodded at Bagramon.

Seeing the signal, Bagramon gripped his sword unflinchingly. His blade erupted with a blinding, holy light that washed over his body. With a mighty thrust, he plunged the tip of the radiant sword into the back of the Angemon's neck with expert precision. He drove the sword down into his body and straight through his digicore.

Angemon's body glowed with blazing light and he was deleted instantly. His data burst apart and scattered around Bagramon.

There were a few gasps from the colosseum stands before silence resumed. Lucemon watched the execution unflinchingly.

Bagramon pulled his sword up, the light dimming from the metal and blood dripping from the tip to the ground. He wordlessly looked up from the place where Angemon had been kneeling and turned towards the Three Great Angels.

"Justice has been dealt…" Seraphimon spoke somberly to the onlookers. "It is deeply unfortunate, but such unrepentant heresy and treason could not go unpunished."

Cherubimon walked over to Bagramon's side. "Thank you, Bagramon. It is a sad day when things have to come to this."

Ophanimon nodded. "Now we must deal with the vestiges of Angemon's heresy," she explained. "Bagramon, we ask that you destroy every pamphlet that Angemon had created, as well as his journal."

Seraphimon nodded. "It is necessary to ensure that his misinformed madness doesn't create needless doubt among our loyal brothers and sisters," he agreed. "Purge them in their entirety."

"Of course, Seraphimon," Bagramon obeyed. He walked up to the table and picked up the stack of pamphlets and the scroll.

"Thank you…" Cherubimon responded. The largest of the three angels turned to the audience. "Thank you all for coming and bearing witness to this unfortunate event. It is important that the light of truth shines ever-present throughout the Sky Colonies, so I humbly thank you all for coming and watching over us as we deliver God's judgment."

"Yes, thank you very much. Do not let these events lay heavy on your hearts," Ophanimon added with a warm smile. "If there is anything bothering you, please speak to one of the Virtues and put your mind at ease."

"And do not feel tempted by Angemon's words, however charismatic he may have been. We all know the truth of the Religion of Light deep in our hearts. Do not let yourselves be led astray by unjustified doubt or the temptation of cynics. We lead a blissful life here, do we not? We live with order and goodness. We live with a clear purpose," Seraphimon finished.

Cherubimon nodded gently. "And with that, you all may leave," he said to everybody.

As they spoke, Bagramon silently cleaned off his sword with a soft cloth, wiping away the blood of the heretic from his blade. When his sword was clean and pure, he placed the cloth on the table and sheathed his blade. He collected all of the pamphlets from the wooden surface as well as the large scroll.

When they were gathered in his arms, Bagramon turned to the Three Great Angels. "Shall I leave now, as well?" he asked them calmly.

"Yes, Bagramon. Simply destroy those documents and then meet with me afterwards," Seraphimon told him. "Thank you once again."

"Of course, Seraphimon. Heretics and traitors must be dealt with harshly," Bagramon responded with a short nod.

"I am glad that it is not a burden on your shoulders, brother," Seraphimon said, his firm voice finally softening.

"Not at all…" Bagramon answered, his words lingering for but a moment. "I will deal with these now."

"Very well," the archangel agreed, watching as Bagramon turned away from him.

Bagramon flew down the steps of the wooden stage and began to head towards one of the exits at the edge of the arena.

He closed his eyes as he glided across the smooth floor, brooding over the day's events. As much as he tried to, he couldn't shake off his feelings of unease and doubt.

Bagramon opened his eyes slightly and gazed down at the floor as it passed beneath him. "God certainly exists… but is this his justice…? Why direct the Heavenly Choir in such a manner…?" he couldn't help but think in passing.

"I wonder…"

---

An hour passed since the execution.

Bagramon flew around the Sky Colonies idly. He carried himself above the clouds and the gold and white buildings, floating on his pure, feathery wings. He ruminated on the day's events and how they were affecting him more than he would have thought. It put his heart in a state of discomfort and deep introspection. He reminded himself to pay a visit to the Pools of Reflection so that he could hopefully put his restless mind and agitated heart at ease.

On the way, Bagramon had seen a HolyAngemon and a Silphymon from the Powers leading away a Pidmon, one of the members of the poetry club. He assumed it was for questioning on his activities and if he had any connections with the heretic Angemon. It was heavy-handed, but routine where heretics were concerned. Heresy had a way of taking root in underground clubs among learned individuals. After all, that was how the Religion of Light started back on the Digital World, Bagramon noted.

The archangel of death climbed on the soft breeze, up towards the First Sphere. The circular platform was held up by clouds and large columns, standing sentinel over the Second and Third Spheres.

As Bagramon rose up above the edge of the First Sphere, he climbed higher and looked down on the highest of the districts. He flapped his multiple white wings and swooped down, his long, black hair blustering behind him. He dove towards a huge, white building, the Library of Wisdom. The library had a circular base and a domed roof, supported by classical columns. The building was made of smooth, washed, unassuming, light grey stone.

Bagramon descended and lightly touched down in front of the large entrance of the Library of Wisdom. Tucked under his arm was a large scroll.

Although he destroyed every single one of Angemon's pamphlets, Bagramon found himself hanging onto his journal. For some reason, he had trouble destroying it like the other documents. As such, he came here to carry out the rest of his duty.

The archangel walked forwards and pushed open the massive library doors, which stood at twice the height of Cherubimon. As Bagramon entered, he was greeted by a soft draft of stuffy, library air, which was accompanied by the pungent notes of old paper and dust. The interior was circular in shape as well, with the walls covered with bookshelves. The floors were marble and there was a domed ceiling with a glowing orb of radiance gave off light within the large building. There were countless different aisles of bookshelves, and the library was extremely organised, with all of the documents sorted by type and genre.

Directly ahead of him was a large, wooden reception desk that greeted all who entered from the foyer. Sitting behind the desk was the small form of Lucemon, who seemed to be writing something down. Bagramon approached the front desk, not attracting Lucemon's attention initially. He approached the desk and noticed that Lucemon had a soft frown on his face as he wrote digi letters on a booklet.

"Lucemon?" Bagramon asked him.

Lucemon looked up with initial surprise, but he regained his poise and calmly closed the booklet. "Bagramon… Hello," he said with an innocent smile.

"Pardon me. Am I interrupting?" the tan-skinned angel asked.

"No, not particularly," Lucemon responded, his pure, blue eyes gazing up at Bagramon. "How are you? Is there something that I can help you with?"

"Well…" Bagramon answered uneasily. He shuffled slightly, readjusting the scroll's place underneath his arm.

It was then that Lucemon noticed the scroll. His eyes lit up with interest. "Is that…?" the youthful angel wondered.

"Yes…" Bagramon responded. He pulled the scroll out and placed it on top of the library desk. "It's Angemon's journal. I have destroyed the pamphlets, but… I can't seem to bring myself to destroy somebody's personal journal, as heretical as the contents are."

"I see… I understand, Bagramon," Lucemon responded, his voice level and soft. "What do you want to do with it?"

"I thought that I would give it you to deal with," Bagramon responded. "You are the curator of the Library of Wisdom, so you are in charge of all written documents. I thought that you would know how to deal with this type of thing better than I would."

Lucemon nodded gently.

Bagramon frowned and looked down at Lucemon. "Can I entrust the duty of destroying that journal with you, Lucemon? It would be a burden off of my shoulders," he said to him.

The fair-skinned angel Digimon smiled softly. "Of course, Bagramon. Leave it with me," he responded helpfully.

"Thank you. I want no trace of it left," Bagramon explained. "Eliminate it completely."

Lucemon reached over and took the scroll in his hand. "I will make sure that it is taken care of…" he assured Bagramon, bringing the scroll closer to him.

"I appreciate it," Bagramon said, giving Lucemon a slight nod before turning around. "I have to go meet with the Three Great Angels now."

Lucemon nodded, his hand lingering on top of the scroll. "Bagramon, what did you think of that Angemon?" he asked him inquisitively.

"I do not know… To go to such extreme lengths while knowing the consequences… He really believed in what he was saying," Bagramon mused. He frowned and looked at Lucemon. "What did you think of him?"

"He was a babbling lunatic, of course," Lucemon responded with succinct aloofness.

"Yes, you are right; he must have been crazy," the darker angel responded, looking over his shoulder at Lucemon. "I will leave you to your business, Lucemon. Thank you again."

"Of course…" the small, innocent-looking angel responded. He watched as Bagramon strode to the exit of the library, the angel's white robes flowing softly with each step. Lucemon's sharp, blue eyes gazed at Bagramon every meter of the way to the exit. They watched as he opened the giant doors of the foyer and closed them behind him with a great echo.

When Bagramon had left, Lucemon glanced around cautiously. He was positive that he was alone, but it didn't hurt to be sure. Once he was satisfied, he slowly opened the scroll, great interest flickering behind his blasé expression. He swiftly began to read the journal, his eyes darting back and forth across the page adeptly.

"A babbling lunatic…" Lucemon mused to himself. "But many of his arguments are not dissimilar to my own thoughts… It wouldn't do to destroy the message simply because of the imperfect messenger… In fact, I couldn't destroy such an important document…"

Lucemon stood up from the desk and tucked the scroll underneath his arm. "I will have to find some place to hide this… This whole affair has made me reconsider many things," he mumbled to himself.

The angel Digimon walked out from the desk and travelled deeper into the Library of Wisdom, a tiny smile growing on his youthful face.

"And I know I am not the only one…"