Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

An emerald sun dawned on a valley, somewhere in the World of Darkness. If it had been viewed from one of the nearby mountaintops, it might well appear a place of beauty.

Below were fields of violet grass and a village that served as the home of almost 800 Digimon. Above were picturesque blue skies littered with pristine white clouds. Indisputably so, the images of heaven and earth flowed together in a manner that was simply sublime.

For decades, the village had thrived, and grown, and been safe from the tyrants whose armies were spreading across the whole world. Until a few days ago, that was, when an army of nearly 2,300 Devidramons had assaulted the village.

The siege lasted for almost seven hours, before the death of JetSilphymon, lost to weariness and inexperience and a Devidramon happening to deal a sneak attack. With the loss of their side's only Mega, the hostile forces lessened the gap between their levels of power, and that was an advantage that the natives needed sorely.

At the street's end waited the Devidramon's ruler, the overlady masterminding the invasion. Some of the captives still bothered to pay attention, their spirits not yet broken, to the Digimon standing ahead of them. Her particular physical characteristics were universally recognizable.

Her garments were patches of white fabric of some sort, that really just revealed more of her fair skin than it covered, and peculiarly feathered high-heeled boots. Her slender waist and left leg were both affixed with black belts, a jarring visual given the amount of white she wore. Eight white wings poked out of her back, giving a whole new meaning to the earthly slang word 'the birds'. The angel's sizable bust was adorned with a gold bustier. All in all, her appearance left little to the imagination.

"However could this happen?" A Hawkmon fretted while being led with the others. "However could an Angewomon command an army of demons?"

Oblivious to her distress, the Devidramon shepherded the flock of birds along with perhaps their trademark discipline and disinterest.

"What have we here?" the female angel observed the group, with facetious mirth. Coyly, she held a dainty exposed finger to her lip. "Oh yes, another pack of slaves. Allow me to make your new situations perfectly clear: You are all in Hell now, my Hell. You exist only to serve me with your lives and to amuse me with your deaths," she smirked, her tone confident in her superiority, and spred her arms wide.

Defeated and saddened looks spred over their faces at her declaration. The Devidramon looked on passively, merely content to be spared their lady's wrath.

"I could kill any one of you that I pleased, and it would make absolutely no difference. Now, are there anyone who wants to argue with me?" The angel glanced, contemptuously, at the herd of birds. One by one, her gaze ran over each of the avians.

The wicked Angewomon halted, seeing determination and the seeds of rebellion in the eyes of a Hawkmon. She raised a finger at the Hawkmon. Panic appeared on her face. Angewomon savored the look. A single ray of pink light struck the avian, reverting her to a Digiegg with appalling ease.

None dared speak up against the vile act that had just been committed, not even her closest friend. They all knew that it could just as easily be them, and none of them had a death wish. A few young Digimon gazed, sorrowfully, at their lost friend, unable to stop the tears from streaking down their faces.

The sadist angel gazed contemptuously at her latest batch of subjects. "Does anybody else want to die?" she asked sarcastically. The smattering of birdly mons hung their heads in defeat. "No?" she questioned mockingly. "Really, nobody? Cowards, all of you. Soldiers, attend to them. I expect this village abandoned by tomorrow."

Angewomo turned, and walked away from both groups, subjects and soldiers. Barely ten steps she had taken before she took off into the air. Far away, the avian Digimon and the Devidramon could see a castle in the direction that the Ultimate was flying.

Quickly, the Devidramon on the ground resumed their activities... herding villagers into their homes... destroying parts of the village because it amused them... recompiling rebels... all the things that a run-of-the-mill evil empire needed to do in order to function properly.

In an hour's time of them doing these things, Angewomon had reached back to their castle. The angel strode through a featureless hallway that was large enough to allow a frickin' Mammothmon in.

The blandly grey hallway was littered with wooden doors, and it was the door all the way at the end which held Angewomon's attention, and which she now opened.

Revealed to her was a bedroom which most assuredly fit the terms 'luxurious' and 'over-the-top'.

The bed of the room - in its own separate compartment/floor in the far upper left (when viewed from a 2D POV) of the place - seemed large enough to comfortably hold ten or fifteen of her, while remaining far from full.

In another part of the room, at the far lower left, were a pair of doors; one led down to their dungeons, one led to their observatory.

In a chair by the fireplace, Myotismon was to be found, immersed in a novel from another dimension. He glanced up at her, permitting a small smirk. "I trust that your little outing went well?"

Angewomon shrugged. "I can't complain. The village to the north hardly presented a challenge, but there was this one Hawkmon who entertained me for a minute. Other than that, it was pretty boring."

Hearing that, Myotismon put down his book, almost rushing to do so, and flashed her a winning smile. A decidedly unchaste smirk grew on the angel's lips. No words were needed to commune their intent between them.

About one hour thereafter, vampire and angel were resting off their bout of lovemaking, her arms draped around her lover.

What more could a girl ask for, she wondered absently; she had her empire, her husband, her minions, her conquests... she had everything, and eternity to revel in it.

Myotismon was venturing exploratory caresses of her bare torso, delicate skin and hardened nails brushing against skin riddled with goosebumps, occasionally eliciting half-giggles from his beloved.

They both wished that blissful moments like these could last forever, but alas, they knew that they couldn't. It was merely fortunate, then, that they would always have more such moments; such was the wonder of eternal life.

She was beautiful beyond measure, the vampire thought. Her figure was lithe and shapely, and her hair was this perfect, wondrous shade of gold. Yet, it was her other qualities that made her so astounding.

Her capacity for cruelty, for one thing. He had seen it so many times over the years, that sense of excitement on her face when she tortured prisoners or subjects or minions. That incredible relish that she displayed during torture sessions was almost enough to put a smile on his face; it was almost like she couldn't get enough.

Her lust for conquest and power, her incredible grace and destructive power in combat, the compassion and love and loyalty in her heart that was reserved only for him... however had he decided to spend more than twenty years on pointlessly torturing this wonderful, kind and cruel, loving and merciless woman? How could he have been so foolish?

"Something bothering you?" Angewomon asked, breaking into his musings.

Myotismon was quick to answer, "No, no. I was merely thinking to myself."

Angewomon then leaned back, lying back on the bed, resting her head on the pillow. Had the mood been less innocent, Myotismon thought that he might have enjoyed the sight of her uncovered chest more.

"About what?" she asked with a certain amount of curiousity.

"Our history," he replied semi-distantly, clearly still engrossed in his thoughts. He elaborated, "All of it," without much prompting. Angewomon gazed upon her lover with mild concern.

Myotismon's core pondering was, well, how had everything gotten so dull? Decades ago, he had believed that he would just go on forever with his guardian angel, just conquering and warring and killing and ruling, but now those prospects seemed less than appealing. Why was that? Their power was absolute, they ruled over millions of subjects and they were served by more than 100,000 Devidramons. It was everything he had ever dreamed of, yet now he found it lacking - her lacking- NO!

He mentally shook off the thought. It had to be that he was merely languishing in his second century of life, feeling the weight of the endless years. Yes, that was it, he thought, pleased with the answer. He glanced down at her, smiling almost goofily, an expression which she mirrored, knowing him well enough to capture the gist, and more than that, of his thoughts.

It was not long after that they had fallen asleep in each-other's arms, lulled off to la-la land. Such was simply another day of another week of another month of another year of their happily-and-evilly-ever-after.

Chapter Text

On the shores of the sea, in a realm of the World of Darkness called the Dark Ocean, were the realm's rulers. As much monarchs as gods were they, vessels and envoys of the forces of shadow and light.

Those facets of them, one could not soon determine from a glance.

From the human perspective, Dagomon might appear very strange indeed. Though his body was akin to that of an octopus or a dragon or an amateurishly crafted huma, coated in a layer of translucent liquid on blue false flesh, clear red wings jutted out from his back.

The aquatic beast towered over the other being as much as a multi-story building would have, and his arms and legs were bundles of tentacles wrapped together and held together by some manner of decoration. Remarkably, one could find a pair of Holy Rings on his right leg, the sort of divine artifact that even angelic Digimon like like MagnaAngemon and Angewomon only had one of each, and Goddramon two as well.

But the other was quite different from Dagomon, and much more ordinary from the Homo Sapien sociopolitical/visual perspective.

Perhaps the body's age was twelve or thirteen, younger or older would not seem fitting. Her sole garments were a simple red dress and blue jacket (which, yes, did imply that she was barefoot and barehanded and bareheaded, just to clarify things excessively. Even though her identity was obvious, the narration rambled on) and nothing more. Kari's eyes were a clear russet, a brighter shade of the color than Dagomon's eyes, and aglow.

Directed by her will and his will, the energies coursed from them into a miniature object, one that was devoid of shape and color and substance.

What they were doing was nothing less than surreal, for what they were doing was create an entirely new dimension from scratch, forged from the fused power of shadow and light. Cosmic forces of pure creation surged around them, hungering to swallow them both.

These forces were akin to roaring winds and blazing thunder and all-consuming fire and trembling earth and a tidal wave, and they were distinct from those things as well.

It was merely a simple metaphor, for mere statements or sights (at least, from 3D perspectives) could truly convey what an act of creation looked like. I mean, just look at what Arceus had done, that was random as sheer #¤##.

Neither were novices in creating Digital Worlds, however, and neither would succumb to these meager sideshows, not when the Great Work was nearing its completion.

The worldly weaving seemed to tremble, however it looked, perhaps (or partly) in anticipation of its birth. Then, the cosmic conflagration erupted in full.

Plumes of emerald thunder began to pour out of the cosmic egg, but that was only what could be physically seen of the entire sordid multidimensional process, of its rebellion against the space and the time that it was embedded in.

In purely the visual sense, the dimension-child lashed out at its parents and its surroundings, sending plumes of bright orange thunder hazaphardly around, but their universal spawn acted against the space and the time it was embedded into in ways beyond what could be seen with eyes no matter how acute or broad in their scope.

As though the celestial forces it was emitting hardly fazed her (perhaps they truly did not, mind you), Kari stepped forwards towards the creation, however it looked. Softly, she draped her arms around the cosmic egg. Strangely, the rampaging infant dimension seemed to be calmed by that simple gesture.

But then again, most of these proceedings were quite surreal and irrational, so perhaps that was to be expected.

Cradling the cosmic egg, Kari took a single step forwards, striding effortlessly into the space between space and time. The faded beach site and the obsidian waters were left behind her, and her surroundings shifted, into pure white.

Her surroundings appeared like an infinite void of white and gray light... perhaps, it made more sense to state that spacetime itself held a color in the dimension that the Dark Ocean god of light had entered, but that was merely idle meandering, for terms such as 'where' and 'when' did not apply where she was now.

Where she was now was the primordial/pandimensional void above/outside/beyond normal spacetime (again, 'above' and 'outside' implied that 3D geometries were relevant, so sorry about that there), the nothingness in which the dimensions were suspended/liberated to live and expand and perhaps die as well.

In a visual only expressible through vague metaphor:

The world egg that Hikari was carrying might be said to then take on a concrete form: A Digiegg with a white shell, adorned by red or brown or grey flamelike patterns. Their Digiworld spawn detonated in her embrace, erupting into a cosmic conflagration of unnameable and incomprehensible forces that moulded space and time and physics and metaphysics and everything in-between from grand nothingness.

Truthfully, that was but one explanation for how it might appear: The creation of worlds entire eluded both human understanding and Digimon understanding, and attempting to water down the whole cosmic shebang into a series of images or words that one could understand was a foolish and pointless act. Human physicists still tried though, good on them, mate.

The newly born Digital World was lifeless still; give it time, it had existed for barely five minutes, jeez.

Where most Digital Worlds were either masses of empty space with the odd planet/star/other celestial object around, or a humorous sort of landscape with literal infinitudes of earth and sky in all directions, this particular dimension was different from either yet similar as well.

Simply put, it was a metaphysical realm, a place without substance and solidity, and with altogether more mutable physical laws, and where time did not exist other than as an idle speculation. Kinda screwy in concept, but tolerable.

However, that was not all that they had caused: Whether through intent or accident, it occurred that the forces generated affected her as well as the several 'adjacent' dimensions (again, the spatial terms involved were watered down to make sense in terms of 3D geometry, that being what most Digimon and humans understood).

Subjected to forces beyond even her ability to understand and even her ability to endure, what happened to the Dark Ocean's god of light was perhaps logical onto itself, or perhaps not.

What had happened to her, from the forces exerted by multiple dimensions warring with one another as they were forced to 'realign' in some pandimensional manner, was that her body and consciousness had both been reduced to almost nothingness and shunted in some alternate reality/dimension/world/plane among the countless that existed, both spawned naturally and by them.

Disappointingly, the sensation felt cold as balls, shortlived though it and she both were. And like so, multidimensional fundamental forces about 82% beyond human understanding had slain a deity.

Dagomon looked, as only he could look. He looked upon the space of the dimension he was in. He looked upon the space of their dimension-child. He looked upon the space between dimensions. Hikari was nowhere to be found, in these three infinities, and he knew what had happened. It had, after all, happened many times before.

Dagomon shifted his higherworldly attentions to yet another dimension, and there she was. His Hikari had once again incarnated as Kari Kamiya on one particular earth, one with the same fundamental history as she had centuries ago.

The eldritch horror did not understand this conundrum, on this occasion or any other.

Hikari was the one who was his.

Hikari was the one for whom he had searched and reached through all the worlds for.

Hikari was the one who carried the Crest of Light in her soul.

Hikari was the one who was his only equal, his opposite, the only one in over a hundred dimensions worthy of his attention and his love.

Hikari was the one he had made immortal and unkillable.

Hikari was the one who he had made more than a god.

Hikari was the one who had made him more than a god.

Hikari was the one with whom he had birthed countless worlds.

Hikari was the one with whom he had destroyed countless worlds.

Hikari was the one with whom he had ruled the Dark Ocean for over twelve million years.

Hikari was the one who was his.

So why was it that every few centuries, his Hikari happened to become trapped as a human once again from being ripped apart by the multidimensional tides of worldly formation?

What precise quality was it that drew her back to that particular dimension, to that particular city, to that particular era?

What was it that imposed that cycle on creation itself, and forced her from his side?

It defied all logic, but it seemed that his god of Light was inextricably tied to her birth-world. It was as infuriating as it was puzzling. Why was that?

Shrugging off such speculations, he refocused on his Queen, gazing through the dimensional barriers that separated them physically and metaphysically. As always, she was a human infant, and would be amnesiac and powerless from the transition. He knew, or estimated, or recalled, that it would at least take 10 years and at most take 20 years, before her body and mind had matured enough to withstand the power of the Crest of Light.

That span of time hardly registered to him. Already he had outlived the eons, he contemplated somberly. A decade or two would scarcely be a drop in the ocean of his years. Though still seeing amusement in that knowledge, the Undersea Master set about resuming his normal activities and his normal state of consciousness.

Over the years that followed, he just kinda went about his usual business.

He ruled their dimension-wide empire/religion, tending to millions and billions and trillions of Deep Ones and Black-winged Ones, constructing and maintaining the temples devoted to their worship, in relative peace and quiet.

Every once in a while, Dagomon located beings in one of the more-than-100-dimensions-that-the-Digital-World-contained, and forged either new Deep Ones or new Black-winged Ones fro them. Their bodies were transformed beyond recognition, and their minds became wired to worship Dagomon and Hikari as gods. ( Here, the question of the hour/day became: If the Deep Ones and Black-winged Ones believed those two to be gods, and nobody argued otherwise, then were they not gods? )

Once every couple of months, the otherworldly god of darkness and destruction could actually be seen to check in on Kari Kamiya on her parallel earth. She remained alive, and whole, and strong, and that was enough to satisfy him for the time being.

With surprising speed, twelve long years had gone by.

The first sign that he received that she was starting to remember, on some vague level of consciousness, came in the form of her suddenly appearing in their domain one day, near where a few Deep Ones had been imprisoned for their rebellion about 11,000 years ago. He sensed her immediately - he would recognize her Light anywhere, and set out towards her.

By the time he had arrived, there were only a handful of free Deep Ones where he had expected his fellow god.

To his grave disappointment, they had fed her lies - that she was to be their bride and serve only to rear their offspring - that she was to be merely their queen and oppose him rather than join him - before she had returned to that wretched world with a few other humans and Digimon.

On that occasion, he had found her characteristic kindness and compassion humbling, and he almost wept with sheer joy.

It was mind-boggling to him that she would ever wish to spend even a single second of her time on these lowly creatures when she was so far beyond them, in power and importance.

The second sign came several months later, when he noticed that the famous Demon Lord of Wrath was in his realm, which he had apparently been for weeks. He almost wanted to laugh when he heard the story, that these creatures were apparently capable of a feat such as banishing a Demon Lord. He was certain that his Hikari had played a vital role in that, nothing else made sense. Even as diminished and amnesiac as she generally was in that particular situation, she was still so much more than just another human.

Daemon was quickly allowed freedom after that, and Dagomon returned to his speculations. A few months later, he decided that it was time to take action about this matter, which brought us to here and now.

On the seashore, Dagomon stood alone. He extended his tentacles, protruding beyond physical space, into the cosmic membranes that separated the dimensions, the spaces that were thinner than atoms. An unearthly noise suddenly wailed out in sadness as reality struggled against Dagomon's will and violation of its underlying structures and barriers. He did not cease his efforts to traverse the dimensional barriers, and slowly but uncertainly, he managed to cause a gash in the very fabric of space itself in two parallel dimensions.

That was when it got intense. Seeming to have tired of attempting to reason with Dagomon, the forces he was attempting to subjugate decided then to repel the invader by any means necessary.

Strange forms of energy, beyond both naming and measuring, poured from the rift in more directions than 3D space encompassed and assaulted Dagomon without mercy or restraint. Wounds formed across his body. Portions of the data that composed him was either dissolved outright or consigned to some alternate dimension at random. A stray bolt of wrathful energies struck his eye, rupturing it open.

Dagomon felt no pain from any of that, and pushed on implacably. He would have his other, his equal, his Hikari, back at his side, and nothing would be allowed to stop him.

"Be patient, Hikari, I am returning," was Dagomon's sole thought as he forced his injured form through the spacetime distortion, hurtling towards the world of Digimon Adventure.

What then happened next, well, that was perhaps best left to the imagination.

Chapter Text

Seated around the table were the Three Great Angels, merely four years since restored to their original forms, since their most trying and adventurous days. Silence reigned in the hall that seemed carved out of a single slab of rainbow-colored crystal, almost paradoxically booming in its quietude.

Absently, Ophanimon reflected about the productive nature of merely being seated around a table, in regards to their responsibilities.

Finally, after what seemed almost an eternity, Seraphimon spoke, "I would like to ask a formal apology of you, Cherubimon. I believe it to be long overdue."

Underneath the female Celestial's helmet, an eyebrow shot upwards. Scratch that, both did.

"As you wish, Seraphimon," came Cherubimon's succinct reply. "You have my sincerest apologies for, under Lucemon's sway or not, allowing a philosophical dispute to incite a inter-racial war. Does that apology please you?"

"I would prefer that it had been phrased less facetiously," Seraphimon admonished faux-neutrally. Ophanimon's eyes scrutinized both of them curiously, three eyes on either of them. The feminine archangel suppressed a giggle, because such would not be entirely appropriate right now.

'Eyes' in this context, was defined as 'anything that could process visual sensory input', which kinda also defined a camera, but- eh...

"Then, I will naturally rephrase my apology for my misdeeds until you are pleased by it, Seraphimon," Cherubimon deadpanned; almost; his lips twitched minutely.

"Naturally, my imprisonment for a number of decades scarcely bears thinking about," Ophanimon interrupted, faux-jovially. "But, your respective scintillating witticisms aside, I believe that we have other matters to address," Her smile faded at the thought of the first subject. "To start us off, there is the issue of the combat arena that has been constructed on the Goma Island. We cannot permit these bloodsport matches to take place any further."

"With all due respect, Ophanimon, combat is what we Beast Types thrive on," Cherubimon reminded her. All his dry wit had evaporated. Her deadpan frown showed only a hint of her displeasure at the notion of thriving off combat.

"Be that as it may, the reports from that island and the surrounding ones leave no doubts about the general disquiet in the area, as a direct result of the matches," Ophanimon countered.

"I see," the bestial archangel commented. Both his voice and expression were unreadable to his fellows. "If that is the case, I believe that the best course of action would be to relocate this arena to an area where no noncombatant would feel endangered by the matches. What do you two say of that solution?"

Ophanimon sighed lightly. "To be perfectly honest, I would like nothing more than to do away with the arena altogether. What good can possibly come from an activity centered around causing another being harm and pain, to glorify violence in such a manner?"

Seraphimon deemed now a suitable time to speak his mind. "With all due respect, Ophanimon, I cannot agree with your stance on this matter. Your statement makes it clear that you feel emotionally opposed to this on a personal level."

Ophanimon took a moment to consider his response, before making a verbal response. "You may be right in your assessment, Seraphimon, but nonetheless, I will not waver from my position."

"Need I remind you, Ophanimon, of the folly of that?" Cherubimon deadpanned; almost; his tone was not quite aloof. His gaze turned stern and hard, and quite humorless. Seraphimon could not fault that, given the topic.

Six metallic eyes met two organic eyes. On Ophanimon's face was a distinct frown. Finally, she spoke, "You need not."

Silence descended over the rainbow-hued locale. It was quickly dispelled by Seraphimon. "Have we other matters to discuss, or will this become an occasion to socialize and exchange sardonicisms?"

"I would scarcely object to either course of events," Cherubimon answered. "Despite what issues I might currently have with either of you, and whatever hardships lies ahead for us, I happen to enjoy being convened here, as we used to."

Ophanimon smiled at that. "I feel the same, Cherubimon."

"As do I," Seraphimon added. "But now that we have made known the somewhat redundant sentiments of mutually enjoying one another's company, might we be permitted to actually attend to the matter at hand, namely the blood sport tournaments being held on Goma Island?"

"Yes, yes," Cherubimon replied, dismissively but with an undertone of distinct amusement. Ophanimon's reply was much the same.

. . .

.. .. ..

... ... ...

.. .. ..

. . .

A new day dawned, for all of the Digital World and for Ophanimon's castle, as countless had before this one. In the bedroom, the female and bestial archangels rested peacefully beneath the clear orange sheets. Apart from Ophanimon's throaty snores, the bedroom was utterly quiet.

There was almost a childlike innocence about that. That innocence was marred somewhat by the facts of her being a grown-ass woman and him being an eight-foot-tall anthropomorphic bunny, but even such statements as this could not altogether ruin the cheesy visual of them simply resting together contentedly, without worries or interruptions or inter-personal issues of any sort bothering them.

Very little occurred, or seemed about to. They were, after all, soundly asleep, so they weren't really actively rushing places... well yeah, of course they didn't.

To an outside observer, not that there were any to be found, the room would doubtlessly appear both well-illuminated and sparsely-decorated.

Subjective statements though they were, they were apt when the sole source of lighting was what humanity's interior design styles apparently termed a 'skylight', and when the bedroom's sole piece of furniture was the bed.

On the subject of the sleeping Ophanimon, however, it might well seem strange to Digimon and human eyes (or comparable sensory organs) alike that though the female archangel had removed both her heady suit of armor and her generic white dress. She retained her blue shoulder-wheels on her person, but that had its explanation, mind you.

What was it? No matter, there were other matters to attend to. Moments passed in her bedroom after that, as fleeting as snow.

Cherubimon happened to suddenly roll over on his back, shifting her position minutely.

Ophanimon now rested with her back and an immaculate white-golden wing pressing lightly against Cherubimon's furred arm, which was mostly what she had done before too.

Her unkempt blonde locks which reached to her waist, while already fairly disheveled, were now downright a bleedin' mess.

A particularly throaty wheeze escaped the female archangel.

The cornucopia of mundane events persisted. Wasn't it wondrous?

The solar rays seemed to withdraw momentarily, before returning in full force through the skylight, bathing their sleeping states in light. Cherubimon's effeminate fur and Ophanimon's golden locks both seemed to glow in the celestial (pun totally intended) radiance that they were both basking in.

That particular cycle had gone on for some time already that morning, and would until they vacated the bed, perhaps a couple of hours hence. It might well seem impossible, for some odd reason, but the pair were no longer asleep, nor had they been for the past several moments.

Amidst the serenity and silence of the bedroom, Ophanimon contemplated her situation, and what that had transpired the evening before.

Sharing a bed with Cherubimon was a notion that she wasn't certain of how to respond to. However, the sensation of his bodily warmth was an unfamiliar yet welcome one.

After neither-knew-how-long, Ophanimon sat up, lost in ponderings about the situation. Those ponderings ceased quickly, giving way to calculations, the mental mapping of Digiworld space.

Her imposed framework ran wide, encompassing the entirety of her castle, along with everything within and things a good deal outside. Within that region of space, Ophanimon had assigned every spot, as minute as she could visualize, concrete coordinates on a three-dimensional grid.

Her mind connected to that framework with faint threads like a spiderweb; that, she felt in her heart. At once, she was an angelic being sitting starkers in a bed, same as she was a small region of spacetime. Within the space that she had formed a mathematical model of, she was in control of every last scrap of data; a perk of being an arch angel.

A twitch of her will, a thought imposed on the universe, and it would be a true thing written into the fundamental structures of the Digital World itself. Having so much power over what was and what wasn't was exhilarating to her.

Her mind wandered to envelop the books in her library several floors below, casually inspecting each one in search of a good read. That elusive novel was quickly found, in the form of The Olympos XII Adventures and The Gallifrey Chronicles.

Briefly she debated with herself whether to remodel space around the books such that they fell up here, or to map her arm onto space down in the library and just grab it; neither option offered any real advantage over the other.

Behind her, she noticed - with two metallic eyes, ones positioned dead level on her shoulders - Cherubimon being to stir. That minute gesture provided the sole source of sound, to disrupt the almost-deafening-in-its-quietude silence of the bedroom.

With a contented sigh, she laid back, savoring her lover's body warmth, the company of a friend, and a novel she had yet to finish.

. . .

.. .. ..

... ... ...

.. .. ..

. . .

Sometime late at night, perhaps earlier or perhaps later than the events above (revisionist history, after all), on a balcony of Ophanimon's castle, she and he were spending time together underneath a starry sky and two present moons.

Briefly, marine-blue eyes met ebon spheres as her armor-coated hand found his. Despite the coldness of the Digizoid metal in the chilly night air, Cherubimon could not help but feel warmth from her light touch. A light smile was on her face, and mirrored by him.

Time passed; neither knew precisely how long they had spent out there, but as it was not their foremost concern, neither gave a frick. "I love you," Cherubimon murmured softly to her, a tone of voice conflicting lightly with his guttural rasp.

The female archangel inclined her head at her suitor of almost two months, dark eyes bright. "I love you as well," Ophanimon whispered. In the nightly silence of their lookout spot, her voice carried clearly.

In the air, or inside the air, between them, Cherubimon's unvoiced question was suspended for them both to sense: I see your point. What manner of love?

Softly, Cherubimon withdrew his paw from her hand. The animalistic archangel gave her a questioning, somewhat pained look.

Ophanimon wondered absently why these matters of romantic love tended towards complexity, emotional turmoil, as she took a few steps forwards and supported herself off the balcony railing, gazing unfocusedly out across the vast plains before her. Matters of romantic love were generally complicated in her romance novels, but surely that was mere fiction?

"Cherubimon," she sighed, more than she intended, and then turned to him, halfway forcing the smile. "There are millions of Digimon who call this particular dimension their home. I love each one of them, from the most youthful of Fresh levels, to the most powerful and wise Mega, and you, my dear friend, are no exception."

The angelic duracell bunny's response to that assertion was little more than pensive silence. A mirthless half-smile formed on his face. He mused that he ought to be happy, for she had just told him that she did love him, as he wished to hear, yet he was not.

The humanoid Ophan (contradictory terms, really) mused that it might not have been the most ideal choice of words. She had understood Cherubimon's exact meaning, that he wished to hear her confess romantic love to him, but it merely seemed a priority that she reminded him of other forms of love.

"I love you and Seraphimon both in the platonic meaning of the word. I love you and only you in the romantic meaning of the word," the female archangel spoke to the bestial archangel. However, Cherubimon's pensive expression did not waver, but it darkened. In his mind, he felt doubt rise up, sneering at him.

It whispered that she was feeding him lies. It whispered that she would never truly love him, in any way, after his betrayal. It whispered that she would never truly love him, a Beast Type.

He dismissed the voice. Once, he had allowed it to take root in his mind, and it had almost caused him to lose everything. He would not err again.

"Is there something the matter?" Ophanimon spoke, audibly concerned for her friend and lover. She was not blind; it was obvious to her what plagued him, but if he would not speak of it, she decided that she would not press the matter.

"No no," the archangel assured the angel-knight-in-shining-armor. His dark expression lightened up, resolved to simply bask in the pleasure of her company, regardless of his own doubts and insecurities.

Ophanimon wondered briefly, in the span of a literal picosecond and with loads of time to spare, about a broad range of subjects, both related to Cherubimon's statement and less related and not related at all. Her conclusion, of all these musings, were that it was unfortunate how her mouth was slower than her mind.

Silence quickly enveloped them both once again. Moments, long as brief, were spent by the couple merely watching the landscape and sky unfolding infinitely before them. Where Cherubimon watched with two organic eyes, Ophanimon watched with six metallic eyes,

"However, there was something I was hoping to discuss with you," the angel-knight-in-shining-armor addressed the angelic duracell bunny. Cherubimon gave her a curious look. "Would you consider marrying me? If not today or tomorrow or this month, then at some point within the next decade?" she asked casually.

Rather than react with shock or discomfort, the bestial angel considered the notion calmly. He had never quite understood the practice; mostly it seemed needlessly complicated, a formality that the Human Types were given to.

He had never held any actual interest in the concept of marriage, and now that he actually gave the matter some thought... he still wasn't much interested in it.

"The prospect is one that I can agree to. You have my word," Cherubimon informed her.

"I am pleased to hear that," Ophanimon answered, with a joyous shine in her marine eyes. "Now, if you would excuse my momentary lack of formality, I believe that the humans say 'BOOYAH', in these particular situations, but I am no expert on the subject."

That particular utterance raised a few questions for Cherubimon, such as why Ophanimon would use a human saying, and if it was going to rain later on that day, or what precisely the 'BOOYAH' word meant. "You are excused," Cherubimon deadpanned, or failed to; a light smirk graced his features.

"Cherubimon, that was..." Ophanimon's voice was partly amused, partly disappointed. "I cannot begin to tell you how unimaginably predictable and dull that rebuttal was."

"One tries one's best," Cherubimon snarked back.

Quickly, they began another round of banter, exchanging quips and verbal jabs and comebacks freely, eliciting smiles and laughter from them both. Both enjoyed every moment of it.

Chapter Text

Before she knows it, she comes to regret it.

She regrets accepting Beelzemon's offer to be his new consort. She freely admits to being a killer and a sadist and a psychopath, and takes pride in these qualities, but the sheer scale of the slaughters that Beelzemon regularly commits overwhelm her, and has taught her the difference between a demon and a Demon Lord.

She regrets agreeing to travel the Hell Realms with him, believing herself ready and willing to commit travesty after travesty, and slaughter after slaughter, and dark deed after dark deed. Now she knows better - in all her thirty years of life, she's never done anything on this scale, and it terrifies her to know that the prospect even terrifies her in the first place, because what does that say about her and her devotion to evil?

Nonetheless, she trudges on, wanting to reach his heights of cruelty and power, to become pure evil like him. ... and because the post-murder-spree-sex is amazing.

Her life is mostly an endless succession of murders and battles and sex; reveling in every minute of every day of every month of every year, but the campaigns soon blur into one another, and becomes trivial matters.

In a range of mountains, somewhere in Belphemon's dimension of the Dark Area, they spend a few days hunting down a Kimeramon for the sport of it. The immense beast proves surprisingly adept at hiding and surprise attacks, but they manage to wear her down, with gunshot wounds and unyielding pursuit. Beelstarrmon imagines that the egg remains there for a few decades, so they can get in another round of shooting practice with whatever manner of demon it becomes, but doesn't care enough to check.

Beyond the mountain range around Lilithmon's palace, they go a few weeks killing everything that enters their fields of vision - be it demon or vampire or beast. Their kill counts has to be somewhere around 5,000, Beelstarrmon speculates, but quickly forgets that detail again. Nothing of that experience arouses her more than gunning down one MadLeomon after another.

In Lucemon's realm, they're tasked to invade a VenomMyotismon's rival kingdom. It proves an easy task, for the vampire lord barely has a thousand demons in his employ, and barely a dozen Ultimates. By the day's end, the city-state is bullet-dented rubble, the populace and military are back to being eggs and scattered across the Hell Realms, and they are riding off into the sunset across a wasteland in some other hell.

About four days into this ride, they happen across a pack of Arkadimons, the Fresh-through-Champion varieties, and keep on driving. These demons are gonna take a Ogudomon-damn horde to purge.

In a vast valley, they find a fortress full of Impmons. Beelzemon hates the damned pricks and their attitude, so he is only too glad to go about slaughtering them all. By the hour's end, there are naught but rubble and the cracked remains of DigiEggs lying around the valley.

That morning is capped off with a bout of sex.

He savors her yelps and gasps and even the odd scream, and slams into her with as much force as he can muster up, burning to hurt her so badly that she'll break, mind and body and soul, because it will please and amuse him to see.

She savors the pain and his ruthlessness. This, she knows is how she wants to die . overtaken by pains and pleasures that are truly endless, his meat and his seed filling her in abundance.

Some part of her mind that is still active and focused registers Beelzemon's hand furiously fondling and raking at her chest, like he's trying to claw her tit bloody.

If she could manage to speak clearly, she would try to encourage him to do that, do anything to her that can incite agony in her. She can't manage it right about now, but Beelzemon doesn't care about that. His only desire is to hurt her and maybe even break her.

In the few seconds before her next orgasm rips free and another scream of pure blissful agony escapes her, she remembers vaguely that this partnership really will be the death of her.

Before she knows it, she comes to love it.

For about two years, she has traveled the Hell Realms and become responsible for a million deaths at least, and if that is not splendid work, she doesn't know what is. Everywhere they go, there are more - more Digimon to kill, more things to destroy, more dreams to dash.

Trouble is - she's been to all the Hell Realms loads of times, and killed hundreds of varieties of demon. She almost laughs at that, because it almost makes her sound like a do-gooder or something of that nature, and unlike what that wretched SkullSatamon from a while back had to say about, she certainly isn't one. She kills because she likes it, simple as that.

Where do they go from here, she wonders one evening. His response comes quickly and succinctly - a bullet to the throat. If nothing else, she thinks amid the agony and her data reconfiguring, they had a good run.

A moment later, her egg is lying in the sand. Beelzemon stomps it into pieces, and the remains dissolve once more. He grants her hardly a moment's thought after that - out of sight out of mind, as they say - and rides off along the beach-side, in search of more to do.

Chapter Text

Well, here we were, in the depths of the Dark Area...

What was it, thundered the omniscient narration?

Why, it was the one of the Digital World's hundreds of dimensions where the Seven Great Demon Lords resided, dimensions that Dagomon & Hikari both created and destroyed at their leisure, but that was a tale for elsewhere and elsewhen and elsehow.

Perhaps, it was best described as Hell, or the closest thing to it in this particular multiversal mess of things - though to be technical, there were a heckuva lotta hell dimensions in the Digital Monster multiverse, so it was in and of itself not really surprising.

Much like the earthly biblical Hell, it was a sevenfold realm; each Demon Lord ruled over their own dimension, and it was in Lilithmon's personal dimension that this story found its humble beginnings, and more specifically, it was in the depths of her castle.

To any human onlooker, this particular room of her castle would seem mildly (or perhaps, quite) disorienting territory, primarily in its sheer proportions.

Indeed, by human standards, it was far too big to called a single room – the human race had towns smaller than this one room. In that room was but a single immense rectangular structure, a simple green in coloration, larger than just about any building in the Human Worlds, stretching almost a kilometer in distance across the vast room, and hundreds of metres tall. As beheld by human eyes, its purpose might seem beyond grasp, but the concept of it was well-known to humankind and Digimonkind.

To fully understand what that object was, it was necessary to first 'scale up' one's height and field-of-vision, from the about two metres that humans generally were, to not ten metres, nor fifty metres, nor 100 metres, nor 200, nor 300, but all the way to 450 metres of height.

From that perspective of the room, it seemed considerably more mundane, by the general human definition of 'mundane'.

It was a run-of-the-mill bedroom, with Mervamon and Ignitemon – or two people who were dead ringers for them, anyway – of the Fusion Fighters barenaked in the bed.

From the perspective of time as linear (but let us not entertain the idea that time was not linear; it was hardly the point at this moment), they had spent several days in there just bumping uglies incessantly and in all manners of ways, but how long they had been screwing around hardly mattered: Time was meaningless in Lilithmon's realm, in large part due to its residents.

Which residents? Well, that was perhaps a question to be answered best with another question: What would you do, if you were one of the mightiest beings in your multiversal cluster?

Would you want to form an interdimensional empire with trillions of soldiers at your beck and call, and reign over countless planes and forge them into new Hells as Lord Daemon - the Super Ultimate Digimon of myth - had so often done over his 500,000 years of life?

Would you want to raise up an interdimensional religion whose foremost task was to spread the faith of you across all creation, as Lord Lucemon had so often done over his 500,000 years of life?

Would you simply want to make both of these terrible and wondrous things possible, and then sit back and bask in the glory of your work, knowing that all these horrific things were but shows for your amusement, or turn the tide of the eternal battle between good and evil as you pleased, as Lord Dagomon & Lady Hikari had done so very often over their 12,000,000 years of existence?

For Lady Lilithmon, the answer was none of these things. What she had done instead, with her limitless power and resources, was- well, that hardly needed saying at this point, did it? Oh, it did, did it?

Well, what Lady Lilithmon had done was create doppelgangers of the Digidestined of five universes, and make them her agents and concubines.

In their dumb and huge bedroom, time passed. Minutes and hours and days passed almost literally in the blink of an eye, and they spent all that time, soundly asleep. Finally, one of the siblings awoke from their great slumber.

Mervamon sat up, supporting herself with one arm, and glanced down at her brother and lover. She felt familiar sensations, guilt and unease and shame, at the sight of him.

They were sister and brother, and siblings just didn't do the things they did, that they had done for many years. She had lost count of how many years they had lived here - however long it had been, it had been long enough that they had become parents, and outlived the boy.

At times, it felt like only weeks or months, and other times, it was as though she had spent centuries in the blink of an eye, living, loving her brother in ways that felt so right and was so very wrong.

It had all felt wonderful, in more ways than the word 'wonderful' could immediately capture, but sometimes her mind just wouldn't let her forget how wrong and taboo and sick it was that she and Ignitemon did this, even in a world where nobody cared in the least who or what your lover was.

Briefly, she pondered how this could linger to nag at her, even after what might as well have been centuries. It was sort-of amusing, in its own way.

She glanced at her bedmate. Allowing herself to drift back down memory lane, a multitude of memories returned to her. A nostalgic smile formed on her face.

In all the years that they had lived here, they had been many things to one another - brother and sister, lovers, best friends, sparring partners, comrades in battle - and she was certain that several more such denotations would come to apply to them, in the centuries to come.

Hours passed, time dragging itself along much like a flearidden mutt that couldn't be arsed to move. Ignitemon had stirred from his long slumber, and quickly, they had begun discussing, well, just about anything that happened to strike their fancy.

Dagomon and Hikari's activities - the Multiverse Re-engineering Project - was but one conversation topic indulged in at some point, as were their multitude of new dimensions in tedious detail.

They spoke of a hell dimension ruled by an Angewomon and Myotismon, happily married tyrants and conquerors, where untold millions lived. Their conversation drew up an image of a castle perched atop a mountain, and of a city populated by Digimon of all kinds, living in eternal fear of them.

They spoke of a hell dimension where Lucemon was revered as God by countless Sistermon Noir and Blanc. Their conversation formed an image of uncountable churches, each one the size of a small continent, all scattered across an infinite land.

They spoke of the other Emissaries of Darkness living here.

About Takato and Rika and Henry, who had twisted love and psychotic obsession into some happy medium.

About Relena, who had lived for several millennia and seemed perfectly happy with that.

About Spencer and Sarah, who had spent their few centuries of life in happy marriage, doing whatever struck their fancy.

About Rosemon and Machinedramon, who preferred endless intercourse to social interaction.

Eventually, that pastime proved less than satisfactory as well, and they settled for sitting on their bed, looking directly at one another.

They beheld one another not with love, nor hatred, nor neutrality - merely examining the other like the beautiful, perfect, magnificent artwork they believed them to be.

There, they sat for hours and days on end, immobile, their silence speaking louder than words could. In such fashion, they intended to meet the rest of eternity, or however long they could be bothered with this.

Chapter Text

They weren't too stupid or societally oblivious to know of the incest taboo. That had never been the case.

They hadn't decided one evening to just give the middle finger to the biggest line they could find. It was more a long line of mundanities and small stuff that led them here and now.

Davis' member pressed lightly at the depths of her womanhood. Slowly, methodical and restrained, teasing. Working her up in all the ways he'd come to know that she relished. A hesitant hand entertained her left breast, giving the nipple a casual pinch that was more painful than pleasurable.

Under the heated mood and her brother's unchaste ministrations, Jun found time to think.

She knew perfectly well what this meant - there wasn't ever going to be a normal life for them down this path, no two-point-five kids, no home of their own, no dream wedding, all because they were siblings and they had done things that no siblings ever should.

If they ever made this public... well. At best there was gonna be reluctant acceptance from their friends and family, and even that was probably too optimistic to hope for. Briefly, the woman wondered if their parents suspected anything. There had been three-visits-while-Davis-just-happened-to-be-at-her-place too many for something not to seem amiss.

As gently as he could, the twenty-something male pushed every last inch of his member into the silken vicegrip of his sister's womanhood.

Jun grimaced and winced, her train of thought all but crashing, from the sensation of his rubber-coated head against her cervix with an almost-ghostly touch. Pins & needles swam beneath her skin, torturing her wondrously.

The woman breathed in sharply, eyes squeezed shut, her face showing nothing but contentment, her mussed hair coated in sweat. Her hand moved, of its own volition, to the breast he was cupping and initiated its own series of caresses with skill born of experience.

Davis almost couldn't wrap his mind about what he was doing, but then, he had never been much of a genius, not like Ken. Right now, that didn't matter, for his heart and mind agreed that he loved Jun in a way a brother shouldn't.

A strangled "Davis..." escaped her throat. His ears perked to attention, even amidst the cloud of sensual bliss that he was in. "Hurry up," she commanded-slash-pleaded him, the statement almost incomprehensible from the hissing and moaning accompanying it.

Her meaning was crystal-clear, like her words weren't, and he resumed his movements, now faster than ever before in honor of the home stretch. It barely took them moments to reach release. Their bodies shuddered terribly with uncontainable ecstasy with only a unanimous gasp breaking free of them both. The siblings collapsed onto the bed, dead tired. Moments passed in uneasy silence, the sort that always accompanied the aftermath of their screwing.

Chapter Text

The only thing she was sure of was that she was not sure of anything.

She thought once (more than once) that she wanted this life, that she had volunteered for this. Her certainty of that remained unwavering, now as ever. Yet, one bit of knowledge caused her doubt.

She had allowed him entrance into her mind and her body, into the most intimate parts of her, allowed his essence to fill every part of her. In turn, he had allowed her the same privilege.

Their union gave them both things almost beyond words in any human language - perfect certainty about the other's thoughts and feelings, ceaseless bliss and warmth coursing through one into the other and back again, changed and perhaps strengthened by its passage.

Even after centuries of introspection, neither felt certain that they could ever define the totality of what they felt about the other.

She felt every bit of the love he held for her, a potent burning leaving its undefinable mark, as he felt the love she held for him.

Love had always been the motivating force behind everything he did to her, whether malevolent or benevolent, a love so potent that it scarred both, in the vaguest and worst of ways.

What did that make them? When their very identities and selves were continually exposed to everything, pleasant and unpleasant, major and minor, simple and complex, of the other?

In a space without direction or definition, dead Hikari laid dreaming, embracing and embraced by Dagomon. Their energies bled out of them, bright nurturing Light and deep isolating Darkness mixing and blurring and distorting, leaving a joyously unpleasant aftertaste in her mouth and mind.

The sensation was one that she found that she could almost lose herself in, for eternity.

Their love was more than eternal, she concluded on that occasion, and a beautiful, ancient, decrepit thing as well.

Being one of the Dark Ocean's rulers was an experience and a privilege unlike any she had/would experience as a Homo Sapien, she mused, one day finding herself in an introspective mood.

The position gave her power beyond human understanding, for their ideas of power were rooted in the physicality the species shared with the planet.

She could look however she wished - it was merely a question of altering her current vessel, or entering one of her other vessels in her castle's wardrobe hall, or making an entirely new body.

She could have whatever she wished - it was merely a question of manipulating local spacetime, or fashioning it from the Crest of Light's energies, or transmuting a few Deep Ones.

She could do anything whenever she wished - the Dark Ocean's territories were boundless, and the infinite cities of Carcosa & R'Lyeh contained every sort of architecture and building and mundane distraction in several places, collected over millions of years from over thousands of other realms.

She could be wherever she wished - contrary to what its name might, the Dark Ocean's dimension contained every which sort of terrain for her and the Deep Ones to explore.

Godhood was their mutual gift, and what could be greater than that, she questioned one evening beneath her bedsheets. The humanoid found continually that her current lingering vestiges of 'humanity' - whatever that quality involved - found it uncomfortable to be here, in the realm of the deepest darkness and the cold-at-the-center-of-the-soul.

It came at a cost, certainly - for every few decades, she would be dragged back to the universe cluster she had been born in, by a force beyond even their pooled might to resist or delay, for a reason that eluded them both.

Her non-human part dismissed those emotions. They would fade in time, as always.

Hikari and Dagomon were puzzled.

Fact was: Her body was not human - it was a construct, a thin veneer of flesh made to resemble a Homo Sapien, a means for her to manifest every form of horror and terror in the physical realms.

Contrary what her human friends and allies thought, his love for her ran purely into the realm of the romantic, not the sexual.

Fact was, the Dagomon-species wasn't equipped with the parts needed for sexual intercourse, even if the desire should arise.

Fact was, neither of them were physically compatible with the sexual reproduction method.

Fact was, she hadn't donned her human body for a bout of sensory stimulation in well over a decade.

It was, then, entirely beyond the realm of possibility for Hikari to be pregnant. Nonetheless, she was.

Hikari felt superficial curiosity emanate from him. In whatever form of space existed between their respective minds, there was... something that was physically gestating in a realm of pure thought. The contradiction in that was but one thing of many that perplexed him about it.

The thing was some manner of parasite, latching on to her Light and his Darkness, and feeding off their respective energies. That phrasing, Dagomon found evocative of Lucemon Chaos Mode & Mastemon. Perhaps their child would become an angel of their variety, he conveyed matter-of-factly.

A human, transformed by cosmic power. A Digimon, transformed by cosmic power. What sort of creature would be born from such a union, Hikari wondered. The thought was accompanied by curiosity, along with something unpleasant and unfamiliar that she soon remembered to be fear.

Dagomon's attentions fixed on the impossible phenomena gestating so close to his beloved. Whatever it was, he was certain that it was still in its Fresh state and that they could exorcise the creature.

It quickly proved a challenge to do. Even with two minds against none, it was surprisingly reluctant to leave its metaphysical nest. As in, neither could elicit any reaction or movement from the thing.

She had no intention of letting it occupy space in their mindscape, but other than psychically compelling it to leave, she could think of no means for dislodging it. Dagomon proved little help at the moment, for he preferred to study whatever it was.

Hours after, it disappeared as though it had never been there. Years passed, spent on tending to their Deep One subjects/worshippers and expanding the undersea city of R'Lyeh and searching the shadow-lands of Carcosa for new demons.

A trembling in their psychic link alerted her to the fact that something was happening, and her consciousness vacated her vessel, to wander their domain.

Unseen and unfelt, her soul wandered the stone houses and darkling basalt monuments that littered deep R'Lyeh in an instant. Deep in a temple, she happened across one of her other bodies, a gift to their aquatic subjects: A mindless lump of something-other-than-flesh and the size of a mountain, they fornicated with it, hundreds at a time, to rear and birth new Deep Ones.

Unseen and unfelt, her soul probed the night-wrapped nooks and crannies of dry Carcosa scarcely a fraction of a nanosecond later than she had searched R'Lyeh. Her astral state poured through a sea of ensouled shadows, finding only the dull red burning of their white eyes and nothing out of the ordinary.

Unseen and unfelt, her soul explored the labyrinthine halls and thousands of rooms in their castle, finding only vast solitude and Dagomon's lingering presence.

It was on a beach (whose exact location was beyond Hikari's interest) that they found it. A creature of immense proportions, dwarfing even Dagomon and the oldest of the Deep Ones. Incarnate in almost exactly the same shape as Dagomon, save that it was hued scarlet.

It claimed excitedly that it was their daughter.

They stared, utterly uncomprehending of it, for the better part of a minute.

Explanations were quickly provided, on both sides. Its name was apparently Cthyllamon, a Champion Level, and was the creature that had infested their shared soul years ago. Her purpose was to inherit the position of deity & ruler of the Dark Ocean from them, and slay them once they could serve no further purpose. It was only natural, she related cheerily, that they perished now that they had brought her about. She was their greater, the next generation, a new age for the Dark Ocean, so now their time could come to an end.

They were less than agreeable to that prospect. Rising to the size of a mountain and making her arms into Digizoid swords, Hikari went on the offensive, carving off chunks of Cthyllamon's flesh with a quick series of swipes.

The wounds not only failed to slay Cthyllamon, but also caused exactly no visible or audible pain, and lingered for less than one minute.

After what seemed like hours, their self-proclaimed spawn departed, whining that she would conquer the whole multiverse before ever returning. That promise was soon broken, mere days later.

Dagomon found that he couldn't resent her very existence, over the hours of her visit. She was young and inexperienced in the ways of the worlds, and he deemed it fit to aid this one in her aspirations, as he had thousands of the good ones and the evil ones before her.

Hikari's mind was less made up about this matter. The child (if indeed she was theirs) was not desired, yet she found that they shared unusual origins, which in one manner confirmed her claim. Both Dagomon and herself had created themselves, and now Cthyllamon had as well.

Cthyllamon soon departed, now with several hundred Devimons and twenty-three MagnaAngemons as her army, to invade some world in the Digimon Savers multiverse.

She was old, she mused idly one day as she wandered a street in some part of Carcosa. Her body floated along the ground, carried on invisible strings.

The street was silent and animate, with Shademons swimming across stone and wood and the soil and other things besides. The dead darknesses eyed their goddess-queen with reverence, scurrying to clear her path.

She was old, thousands of years old, millions of years old. That thought brought with it a surge of nostalgia. Hikari remembered then those half-forgotten days after she'd shed her disguise, on so many more occasions than she could immediately remember. A sense of amusement trickled into their mindscape, but her vessel's face remained unexpressive.

It always proceeded the same way, she recalled fondly. It was tedious routine, as much else was.

She would be born anew as a human child, and grow up believing herself to be a normal human being, until such time as the ruse could end.

He would call her back to his side and their throne someday, but that psychic contact mixed with his all-devouring Darkness would be anathema to the human brain.

The Digidestined would think him evil and her brainwashed, for the restoration of memories that Kari Kamiya the human didn't know she was without.

Quite humorous, she found it.

Together, the ultimate Light and supreme Darkness of the Digital World, equals and opposites in every way, they could create entirely new Digital Worlds from their amassed energies. Time after time, she had incarnated in the Earth Dimensions, to live as one of them and with his aid, recreate them into Hell Dimensions. It was a grand scheme, yet it had become tedious routine over the ages.

Kindly gods, they were now.

Kindly gods, they weren't always.

That bit of reminiscing led her thoughts to Cthyllamon. The Champion was very much a child, even after five centuries of life, driven by an insatiable lust for power but desiring or recognizing little of the responsibility that accompanied wielding it.

There was not the slightest chance of her ever fully destroying every dimension save hers, the Dark Ocean and the Dark Area - the natives would resist her forces too greatly, and more alternate realities would branch off faster than she could invade them - but she would need learn this herself.

In hindsight, her metaphysical conception was not entirely unprecedented, she supposed to themselves, though nothing in their life was by this point.

The Lady of Light trudged onwards through her realm.

Chapter Text

They became Tamers at the same time so it was only natural for them to gravitate towards one another, he thinks off-handedly, watching dispassionately the struggle between Digimon unfold. Despite that, he's occasionally surprised himself by the enormity of the power his team has gained, and by the fact that Sayo's team can counter his perfectly.

ShineGreymon Burst Mode lets loose his Final Shining Burst at the exact same time as MirageGaogamon Burst Mode unleashes the Final Mirage Burst. The complaints of both chiefs and other Tamers from the spectator seats are missed, even before the blasts impact with eachother, and hell breaks loose.

Within a second of the collision, the arena is cracked in half, and crumbles under the strain of the shockwaves they generate.

In that same moment, an earthquake rips through the entire dome; a few of the inexperienced Tamers fall and sustain various injuries - wounds, broken bones, more than one Tamer gets to experience an eye sliced open, one even shits herself out of dread at the proceedings, nobody gets killed this time around - but neither sixteen-year-old concern themselves with the collateral damage; all that matters is completing and winning the fight before it's invariably called off.

They stand there, amid the carnage and devastation and rubble, physically and mentally unshakable. No-one but the new kids are surprised by it; everyone else have already born witness to a Koh-and-Sayo match, and know that it's less a battle between two Tamers and more an invocation of the wrath of the gods.

The blast-struggle continues, only being interrupted when large chunks of concrete falls from the ceiling and collide with their helmeted heads, knocking both Burst Modes out cold.

Chief Julia simply rolls her eyes at the anti-climactic culmination, mentally adding a few ten-thousand Bits to their total; rebuilding everything they wreck isn't cheap, even in the Digital World's post-scarcity society.

Moments later, the battle-field has been cleared of the big wrecks, both Tamers having deeming shoving them in a heap in the corner a satisfactory place to put them.

Next, Apollomon and Dianamon are sent in to battle, and in the stands, Ophanimon scurries away to safety, giving 'I'm leaving! Die here if you want!' as a parting remark. It speaks much of their lack of composure and sense of good judgment that several of those who are still able to walk follow her.

The fiery Digimon charges at the adversary, striking as expected only the thin air where Dianamon has been not a split-second before. Momentarily before feeling the series of strikes to his side that makes his vision blur, he wonders if the other Digimon has become even faster than before.

Woozy, he recognizes only dimly the sensation of the impact, and shrugs it off, leaping back into the fray. The same time happens, only this time, Dianamon's blows, blows forceful enough to shatter mountains even before their newfound velocity, sends him hurtling into a different wall.

Dianamon comes to a screeching halt beside Sayo, both awaiting Apollomon getting up again. Wordlessly, he does, visibly no worse for wear, which is more than can be said for the battlefield around them.

Both Tamers give the spectator-seats a glance, which confirms what both expects: No other Tamers are left to witness the battle between the very best of Light Fang and Night Claw.

Neither cares for such a trivial matter, having much greater concerns tied to this battle: Namely, who's topping tonight, and Sayo has no intentions of losing, not when Koh looks hilarious when he climaxes.

Apollomon rises to his feet, only the most meager of pains coursing through him from the assault. Then, it begins again: Dianamon disappears in a flash - minute footsteps are audible - a volley of punches land on his back - he gets knocked over.

Koh and Sayo both knows that this won't be the end of the second round; both Digimon have been trained far too much to lose easily. To their immense dissatisfaction, the match is called off minutes on the grounds that, well, they've utterly demolished the entire arena and caused a wide range of injuries. After an hour-long lecture about responsibility and restraint from both Chiefs, and the obligatory fine of four-hundred-and-seventy-thousand Bits from both Koh and Sayo to finance the reconstruction effort, they're finally let go to get some rest.

Those, and the assignment of rebuilding an entire arena from scratch. No-one ever said the life of a Platinum-rank Tamer was glorious, Koh muses, or perhaps someone did once, he doesn't bother to recall if he's heard anyone say that.

Chapter Text

Another day had begun in the World of Darkness, and across a multitude of hell dimensions, there lived demons of almost every form and shape one might associate with the word. Yet, for all the terror and evil that permeated these netherworlds, as dreary as they could be, one couldn't quite call them completely dystopian (but only mostly so), for even in the demon realms of the Digital World, there were room for things like love and comradery.

For instance, Lilithmon's elite forces, the Dark Digidestined were a number of things: Murderers, immortals, living mockeries, large in number. In their home at Lilithmon's citadel, these fortunate more-than-a-few had come to find a measure of peace and quiet and companionship in their tiny corner of Lilithmon's Hell.

On their plane, Angewomon and Myotismon were celebrating the destruction of another village in... one of the more carnal ways (and quite an elaborate one at that), an activity which they had devoted all their energy to for the past seven hours, which was kinda impressive in its own way.

Down in the Dark Ocean, one of the local ruler-divinities was nearing the end of her eighth month spent in her bed, doing nothing much with her time because she couldn't be arsed to.

In the hell dimension ruled by Belphemon the eternally sleepy, a series of eternal wars were waged. Every second of every day, millions died and were reformatted only to find new ways of dying, and the bloodthirsty psychos who fancied themselves soldiers and warriors revelled in it.

But enough of that for now.

Words could almost not convey the sheer scale of Lucemon's bedroom; merely to call it 'huge' was kinda-sorta an understatement, given how spacious it was. A hundred square metres looked about right.

The entirety of the west wall was a glass door, constructed for the Demon Lord of Pride to peer out over his lands and his subjects. He had, incidentally, spent many an occasion, just sitting and gazing and reflecting.

Through the viewing glass, a breathtaking and rather psychedelic sight was available - Across the infinitude of his Dark Area realm ran fields and forests, lakes and rivers, mountains and valleys, of all shapes and sizes and colors, mixing and separating at random. Villages and remote cottages littered the landscape, only forming a geometric shape in the vaguest sense. Thousands upons thousands of Sistermons, barely larger than ants from this vantage point, journeyed about their world and doing whatever.

Yet, for as spacious as Lucemon's bedroom was, it was sparse on details and furniture - everything save the west wall exit was the same unremarkable violet shade that the wood had been dyed, too immaculate and one-dimensional to not have been forged such. About the only thing of note in the bedroom was the bed itself, where Lucemon himself had been soundly asleep until about eight minutes ago.

The Lord of Pride stared vacantly up into the ceiling, deep in thought about his life.

He had everything - a dimension to rule; his own religion; absolute power; nothing to fear.

He should feel content with his life; why didn't he? After all, he was God; what could God lack?

Was it somehow that there was credence to the saying 'lonely at the top'? He wasn't keen on believing it, but... he sighed audibly.

Why did he feel this way, he had everything he could want. ... didn't he?

"Except company..." whispered an unfamiliar voice, sweet as honey, simple as fact. Lucemon was not rattled by it, but the voice might be onto something, he decided.

He remembered that a Myotismon and an Angewomon reigned in another dimension here in the World of Darkness as husband and wife.

He remembered that Lilithmon had created a brigade of Dark Digidestined for herself, to be her eternal friends and lovers, concubines and soldiers.

He remembered that Dagomon and Hikari lived together in happiness and quietude.

He remembered that Ophanimon and Cherubimon had been married for almost three-hundred years, or something close to that.

They all had their own lovers, but who did he have?

Perhaps that was the impetus behind this latest bout of ennui, Lucemon considered for a moment. Perhaps he subconsciously desired companionship, someone to spend eternity with.

"Yes," the Lord of Pride murmured to himself. "I could do that. Yes, this might well prove to be a fascinating experience."

Lucemon and Lilithmon were on a balcony, gazing lethargetically out across the library.

On a single row between two shelves in the labyrinthine expanse were all those that Lilithmon called her friends: The Dark Digidestined; some were Ultimate level; some were Mega level; some were humans.

Lucemon's gaze swept over them, assessing each one. What kind of lover did he want, the fallen angel mused briefly. A man or a woman, and of what species or shape?

The Lord of Pride fixed his glance on the RaptorSparrowmon of the assembly. The cybernetic Mega was aesthetically pleasing in his/her (Lucemon wasn't sure which) own way; its lustrous mesh of golden and silver Digizoid metal was a joy to behold. After a moment's introspection, Lucemon decided that he desired something other than the avian's metallic elegance.

"RaptorSparrowmon, you may leave," he announced to the gathering. RaptorSparrowmon glanced sternly, almost displeased with the verdict, before mentally triggering her shrinking program; in truth, she was relieved to be allowed exit. In moments, a golden streak flitted through the air, and just as quickly, outta sight.

Lucemon's eyes wandered to the Rosemon. The two plant humanoids were overflowing with beauty and sensuality, he observed of her/him. if he didn't fancy himself as above such things, he might have entertained the notion of bringing Rosemon to his bed, sheerly for the pleasure of the act, just as Daemon regularly did. Yet, as attractive as they were, a part of him felt that there had to be another for him to love.

"Rosemon, you may leave," he bellowed. The plant lady Megas both departed the company of their fellows.

Lucemon scanned the group, his attention drawn to WarGreymon, ShineGreymon and ZekeGreymon. Each of the three dragons were visually appealing in their own way: ZekeGreymon with the lustrous gold armor; WarGreymon with his/her muscles alone; ShineGreymon in the armor's colorful design. He devoted a moment's thought to deciding which of the dragons he found more attractive, and quickly decided on none of them.

"WarGreymon, ShineGreymon, ZekeGreymon, you are dismissed," Lucemon informed, his voice rising minutely. The remaining eighty-something ones of the gallery stood stoically, not moving nor speaking as the three Megas went airborne. Them, and the MetalGarurumon.

Lucemon arched an eyebrow, and without moving even the slightest, he received his answer.

"Lucemon," Lilithmon addressed him amusedly, "WarGreymon happens to be partnered to MetalGarurumon, and I believe that both they and I will prefer them staying here together."

Lucemon nodded disinterestedly; MetalGarurumon wasn't a Mega that he found attractive nor did he imagine any hypothetical intercourse between them to be comfortable, so he honestly couldn't bring himself to care about him or her leaving his presence.

He glanced widely at the humans among them. They were starting to outnumber the Digimon. His gaze settled on a brunette in a dark catsuit, and he raised his hand to point her out. The other Dark Digidestined glanced to Fei, silently awaiting the verdict on her.

"Young human, what is your name?" he called to the woman.

Fei half-wondered if she should bow before the Demon Lord. "MynameisFeiLordLucemonanditistrulyanhonortoseeyou-!" she rushed to say in a single breath, blushing like crazy. The female Dark Digidestined forced herself to return Lucemon's stare, with almost all the mental strength she could manage.

Lucemon examined her; the human was pretty, but then, all the ones here were, and the fact she was among Lilithmon's elite squadron guaranteed that she was a powerful woman.

"Well then, Fei," he accentuated the name, as if tasting it. "Will you do me the honor of being my lover?

A tense silence draped over the library. Nothing made a sound. Nobody made a movement.

Then, Fei drew a breath, steeling herself. "I, I am sorry, Lord Lucemon, but I must turn you down, for I have a lover already."

Far to her left, Izzy smiled brightly, honored by the gesture. It pained him to think it, smile dimming, but he wasn't certain he would refuse a Demon Lord, especially Lucemon, for her.

"In that case, you and this lover of yours are both free to leave," Lucemon said in his usual aloof manner. Barely a second passed before Fei and Izzy walked out together.

Did he even desire a human? They all had the same quaint charm to them, but the Digimon among the selection had greater beauty. Power and beauty was all he was interested in; he was certain that the emotional bias called love would manage the rest.

The Demon Lord glanced from UlforceVeedramon to Imperialdramon Fighter Mode to GrandisKuwagamon. All three had their own charm, and a mutual appeal of boundless strength. He didn't care one whit.

"UlforceVeedramon, Imperialdramon; depart this assemblage," Lucemon instructed. They were quick to comply. Lilithmon observed that the lineup was thinning, and fast. Nonetheless, she was certain that Lucemon would find whatever form of lover he sought - nothing else was possible, with her motley crew.

Lucemon's gaze drifted, inspecting the remaining ones.

Vikemon, he grimaced at: Simply too furry for his tastes.

Sakuyamon, he was pleased by. The mage was all grace and curves and understated power.

MirageGaogamon was rather more fetching than the previous two, Lucemon thought.

The blue-skinned lady, he didn't recognize nor cared to.

His gaze halted at what he thought a rather unusual creature. Standing between a Magnadramon and a Regulumon was a Digimon much like himself: Someone both angel and demon, in a suit of armor divided into dark and light halves. Twelve wings jutted outwards behind her. Her arms were folded behind her head, and her lips curled in an almost giddy, beaming smile. It was frankly as though Lilithmon had created a woman version of him, Lucemon observed boredly.

"You who is both angel and demon," he spoke solemnly and pointed to Mastemon. "I request that you tell me your name."

The female demon-angel hybrid gaped for a second. "I am Mastemon, sir."

"Now then, Mastemon," Lucemon said. "Will you join me as my lover? Do you desire to venture beyond this realm, into all the myriad hells of the Digital World? Do you desire to be revered as a deity, and have your every desire granted at a moment's notice?"

"But of course," Mastemon shrugged cheerfully.

Sometime later, the angel/demon chimera sat on a roof somewhere on one of Lucemon's castles. She gazed out over the continent, fascinated yet disappointed by the sight, for Lucemon's dimension was not truly distinctive from Lilithmon's. Her helmet was removed, baring her bright violet eyes to anyone who looked at her.

She saw verdant forests and bustling villages littering the landscape, and in the distance, more Sistermons than she could count; more than she bothered to. They worshipped him, thought him God, she remembered from last night's dinner. This world was paradise, paradise lost and paradise found, and she was an interloper; trespasser; the one foreign element.

She remembered the glares - distrustful, resentful, borderline murderous - she had received from the Sistermons around this castle. Back home (she caught herself mid-thought; this dimension was her home now); back in Lilithmon's dimension with the Dark Digidestined, she had heard tales of Lucemon's realm, from wandering demons in unsavory nooks and crannies of society and from her friends; none of them good.

Now that she was actually here, she understood why this world deserved the title of hell, despite its outward beauty: The dimension-spanning culture was one founded on religious sociopathy.. She suspected strongly that her position as Lucemon's consort was all that stood between her and a fight with them.

A part of Mastemon found the thought of fighting the Sistermons fascinating. Another part of her recalled other stories, of an alternate dimension in the World of Darkness; the original world, older than even the Dark Area, Willis and BanchoLillymon had told her, a reality of dimmed colors, hosting a different kind of shadow which had spawned all the hell realms, where a Dagomon ruled and society likewise favored the Ultimate as the subject of their faith.

That religion supposedly weren't as wicked-natured as Lucemon's, and a common pastime there was supposedly introspection and reflection. If it was true, paying a visit someday might be interesting.

"Enjoying the view, are we?" Lucemon commented jovially, from behind her.

"I rather am," Mastemon answered, in a cheery tone. Her gaze wandered over the landscape; a fair ways away, she spotted a lake; a stretch further still, a lone temple made of silver; what she estimated as a thousand kilometres away as a minimum, a snow-capped mountain range loomed over the are and blocked her view of the lands beyond. "But, to attend to a different matter," she laid back, eyeing him curiously. "What manner of realm are we going to visit today?"

Lucemon glanced briefly at her, then off into distance. He sat down without looking at her. It was a fair question, he supposed, and one whose answer he wasn't complete certain of.

"I was considering either the Dark Ocean, or the realm of Myotismon and Angewomon," Lucemon suggested matter-of-factly. "They have been allies to the Demon Lords for the past... I think it has been 2,000 years. I am fairly certain of that."

"Splendid," Mastemon grinned.

Mastemon stood, utterly naked, as composed as she generally was. Lucemon laid sprawled on the bed, equally undressed, equally composed.

More than anything else, the female halfling felt keen on seeing what sort of sexual techniques the Demon Lord of Pride had to present her with. She had bedded many, but a God (in title if not actually in nature) was a new experience.

Time marched by, given barely a thought from either. In the temperate air and silence of the bedroom hall, the freshly-minted couple feasted their eyes on the naked form of the other one.

To Lucemon, Mastemon was a beauty like almost no Digimon he had seen in many years.

To Mastemon, Lucemon was little more than more of the same back in Lilithmon's citadel. Quite the handsome mon, but she was used to handsome people, to the point of boredom.

The female half-angel strode forward, and crawled into the bed, beneath the sheets where Lucemon embraced her.

Their bout of copulation began with a manner of restraint: Lucemon's hands roamed wherever they could reach with no real rhyme or reason to their paths, for the better part of half a minute while his mouth left a trail of kisses across her neck, working towards her lips.

With almost startling speed, they went from improvised foreplay to rather more forceful means: Lucemon simply dived right in, no barriers, no hesitation, eliciting a quick semi-guttural groan from her. Within that very minute, Lucemon was going at it with every last bit of force that he could muster, and then he was off to the races.

Mastemon reflected off-handedly, amid Lucemon's frenzied arrhythmic motions, that he was one of her better sexual partners.

Chapter Text

"Go fish," giggled the ginger woman, who was currently stoned to high heaven.

Joe, who was playing strip poker with Sora while being equally high, laughed at that. "Sora," he lectured gravely, "we are playing strip poker, not go fiddlestickipoops."

Sora inclined her head, looking at Joe as though he had just fallen through the ceiling. She then tossed her cards into the air, and watched them fall like a majestic eagle that had gotten hit by a lump of coal from Santa while flying over the pacific ocean.

Unable to dull the smirk growing on his face, Joe began humming the theme tune to Star Wars.

Biyomon and Gomamon sat atop the dinner table. Both were both amused and bemused by their stoned partners.

"I think I've lost all my remaining respect for the human race," deadpanned the seal.

"You make this show sound like a bad thing," wisecracked the pink-plumaged avian.

"Jooeeee," Sora dragged the word out while she picked her cards back up. "I can see all of time and time and space now. Every part of the universe, every moment in history. I'm omnipotent! Soon, I will become a multidimensional time paradox that recontextualises the game of tennis such that I'll have a metaphysical penis, and then I will finish this card game played with cards and warhammers with you, Joe. Joe. Joemon."

"Cool," Joe laughed.

Sora laid down, focusing with all her might and will-power on her boyfriend. "Wanna have a threesome with the table? Just the three of Biyomon and Gomamon and the table and your wallet."

"Settle down, buttmunch," Joe reprimanded.

The pair of Rookies exchanged looks that silently confirmed that they were thinking the same.

The first thing that they agreed on was that their humans were unfathomably intoxicated on marijuana, so much so that their respective sense of reason had been broken.

The second was that they needed to leave before they actually got entangled in the stoned madness of their humans.

Chapter Text

Kari stared in speechless shock at the Rapidmon sitting on the couch; her mother and her brother and her partner and her brother's partner did likewise. None of the four had the slightest inkling about where it had come from.

The exalted knight leveled a glance in their direction. "Hello, humans. I do hope this is not an inopportune time? If it is, you have my apologies. To attend to business: I have journeyed to this reality to fetch Taichi Kamiya and Kari Kamiya and your partner Digimon, and escort you to where the Gods are presently gathered. Will you depart with me?"

"We're not going anywhere until you make with some answers," Tai barked. "For instance, who're you supposed to be, and what 'gods' are you on about?"

The Ultimate decided that reasonable. "I am Sir Rapidmon. The gods I speak of are the Harmonious Ones and the Dark Sun God," he told them after a small pause, phrasing the matter as succinctly as he could think to.

"Okay, that works for me," Agumon joked.

Yuuko stared blankly, recognizing exactly none of those names.

Kari blinked; somehow that name felt familiar to her, yet she couldn't recall where she'd heard it before. She knew that anything 'dark' meant bad news, but if this Dark Sun God was working with Azulongmon, he probably wasn't a bad guy.

"What's going on this time?" Kari asked the golden-plated rabbit.

"I must confess that I am not entirely certain of the details," Rapidmon answered. "However, I believe it is a matter most dire, a matter that threatens this entire reality. I strongly urge you four to come along. If you do not, we may all perish."

The family exchanged brief glances, then Tai and Kari looked at Rapidmon. "Okay, we're in," they said in almost perfect unity.

"Same here," Agumon commented, mildly miffed that they had spoken for him.

"Good to hear," Rapidmon replied, and shifted, looking down on Agumon. "I suggest that you two Digivolve to any flight-capable forms you have; the gateway I used to get here is located up in the sky, you see."

Gatomon nodded in confirmation. She hadn't gotten a chance to stretch her Angewomon wings in a couple of weeks, so the opportunity was a welcome one.

A brief while and a Digivolution and a Warp-Digivolution later, the two Digidestined pairs were aloft, Rapidmon leading their way. Heading through the portal was dead unexpected, but took barely a second. It was the sight on the other side that threw Kari for a loop and a half.

Around her, she leaned her head back and saw several gigantic figures: A white-furred tiger that glowed white; a crimson bird that shone red; a two-headed turtle, even bigger than the tiger and bird, that glowed green; Azulongmon, floating and glowing bluish-white; a hideous twisted parody of an squid or octupus; someone with her face, dressed in green robes.

"Are you guys seeing this?" Tai murmured to the three, glancing between his sister and her doppelganger. WarGreymon nodded briefly and remembered the blue-skinned Digimon to be called Dagomon, while Rapidmon flew up towards the Dark Ocean's ruler-divinities.

"Lord Dagomon, the Digidestined of Courage and Light have been brought here as you requested," Rapidmon informed the Dark Sun God.

"Have they been briefed about the matter?" Hikari and Dagomon asked at once in perfect unity.

Rapidmon decided against commenting on their little idiosyncrasy. "No; I decided that they would more likely believe it, were they to hear it from the likes of you."

"Very well," the ruler-divinities of the Dark Ocean said to the Knight of Destiny. "You may attend or depart this gathering at your leisure," Dagomon alone continued. "However, I now ask you to fetch us the other Digidestined as well, if you would do me that favor."

"It shall be done," Rapidmon guaranteed solemnly, and flew off again. Hikari thought briefly to Dagomon that perhaps they should have sent him to invite the Gods of Evil and Time as well or instead, if only to alleviate the scope of the threat. Dagomon thought back that it would've been a good idea, and turned to the humans.

"Welcome," Dagomon greeted the Digidestined, cheerily waving a tentacle wildly. "I hope you are well, and that Rapidmon did not arrive at an inopportune time. Statements such as this is considered polite in human society, yes? Regardless, Rapidmon brought you here to aid us with a matter most dire," he spoke grimly, and raised a tentacle, pointing behind them.

The four Digidestined turned 180 degrees, and saw a glowing purple sphere floating in the air a distance away. Around it, as though standing guard, were four about-twenty-metre-tall humanoids seeming to be made of pure shadow. WarGreymon and Tai didn't recognize the creatures, but Angewomon and Kari did.

The brunette froze in place, remembering the damp icy grip of that Scubamon or whatever they were, the god-awful things they had said to her echoing in her mind. Angewomon gently placed her hand on her partner's shoulder.

"Okay, so they're the big bad guys?" WarGreymon questioned Dagomon.

"No," Azulongmon disclosed. "Currently, those four Deep Ones are all that stand between our world and our destruction. The Rapidmon was deployed to bring you here, so that you can provide aid in guarding the gateway."

"A gateway to where, exactly?" Angewomon inquired.

"A multitude of hells," Zhuqiaomon answered bluntly. The foursome looked up in surprise at him. Tai had never thought much about religion, but he was pretty sure that there was only supposed to be one Hell.

"Okay, I think I need more of an explanation," Kari sighed.

"That, you shall have," the giant doppelganger of her replied. "The object that the Deep Ones are guarding is called a Dimensional Phase Warp; all capital letters, incidentally. It connects that of the Digital World's servers that the Harmonious Ones preside over, to another. The server in question is called the World of Darkness, Dagomon's and mine," she concluded.

Dagomon continued. "Within the World of Darkness exists dozens of hell dimensions. To drive the point home, imagine a Digital World where evil reigns supreme, realms filled with hordes of malevolent Digimon, built on nothing but death and torment and despair and war. Now, imagine that there are not one but many of these realms. Now, imagine a world with creatures other and and worse than Digimon or human in it. Many such realms are what this reality faces this day."

The four looked at the eldritch monstrosity in speechless horror and growing panic.

WarGreymon dimly recalled a legend he had heard once or twice, about a twisted and darkened area of the Digital World where there lived a group of Digimon older and more powerful than even a Mega. The knowledge that they had Omnimon and Imperialdramon Paladin Mode on their side assuaged him somewhat, however; they could surely handle anything.

Angewomon began flying up, and quickly reached a spot in front of Dagomon's face. Squiddy and the other five all glanced curiously at her. "HEAVEN'S CHARM!" the angel hollered at the top of her lungs and went through the motions. Her blast hit straight into his eye. Dagomon didn't react.

"Have I done something to offend you?" he queried a moment later, in a hideous voice like nothing human vocal cords could produce.

"Where do I even begin?" she scoffed. "Wait, I know, the fact that you're directly responsible for the millions of evil Digimon coming here to kill us all!"

"Not so," Hikari disputed. "We have only created the worlds they inhabit. Their actions are entirely their own. I admit that we are at fault for enabling them in the first place, which is why we have stationed those four Deep Ones to help defend this universe from the hordes that lie beyond. I hope that this is satisfactory to you all."

The Sovereigns said nothing.

Angewomon glared beneath her helmet. "You bet it's not," she growled. "What good's four of them going to be?"

"I can assure you, these four are quite capable of handling this situation as well as the majority of things that could emerge," Dagomon said placatingly. "And besides, I happen to be aware that you Digidestined have quite a habit of prevailing, no matter the odds against you."

Angewomon didn't answer that; if nothing else, the Dagomon kinda had a point there. "What about her?" she pointed to Hikari. "Why do you have a fifty-metre-large version of Kari with you?"

Dagomon affixed his gaze on her, then chuckled lightly.

"The story behind that is a long one," Hikari answered without moving her mouth. "It is both long, and it involves a few concepts I cannot easily explain to you. We merely ask you to trust that Dagomon and I intend only the best for this reality and all who dwell within it."

Angewomon didn't believe a single word of that.

Tai gazed deeply upon the thing. It floated, unflappable, as though gravity didn't exist to it. It was the most menacing shade of violet he had ever seen, yet something about it spooked him worse than he could think of words for.

He turned to Hikari. "I'm gonna need this explained one more time. What is on the other side?"

The robed posthuman eyed him curiously. "I believed I had been entirely clear about that. I apologize if I have not. The sphere you see before you is the center of a phenomena called a Dimensional Phase Warp, a naturally occurring event that allows travel between the dimensions and Servers of the Digital World. The spatial distortion connects this universe to a Server called the World of Darkness and all the hells it stores, allowing every single native of those realms to invade this reality. Now, I cannot make any guarantees concerning their moral character, but I do not imagine them pleasant sorts."

Tai looked, unbelieving, at his sister's doppelganger.

Hikari sighed mentally, opting for another phrasing. "Are any of you familiar with the Dark Area of the Digital World?"

Gatomon gasped. "That's just a myth, it's not a real place."

Hikari smiled indulgently. "It is very much so real: There genuinely exists a place where wicked Digimon are sent after they die by Anubimon. Beyond the threshold lies the seven realms of the Dark Area, and in them lives all manner of demons and devils, and things that are worse still"

The foursome stared, disbelievingly, at Hikari.

"So," Kari said after a pause, "unless we stop this, the whole world falls."

Hikari nodded.

"We beat MaloMyotismon and Armageddemon, we can handle this," Angewomon assured Kari, and looked to her double. "Just to make sure, MaloMyotismon's not in one of those worlds, right?"

Hikari hesitated to answer, contemplative. "While the vampire you fought so often has indeed died in every sense of the word, it is possible that there could be thousands of other MaloMyotismons lurking in the Dark Worlds, and however many there are of the species, they are but the tip of the iceberg."

Speechless silence descended.

Finally, after a minute-long pause, Tai spoke. "So, there are thousands more like MaloMyotismon, the biggest baddest guy we've ever beaten, the Digimon it took an army and a miracle to beat last time? Do you have any other good news to share while you're briefing us?"

"Yes," Hikari continued, missing the sarcasm. "While I am not sure of the exact number of foes, it is irrelevant because the portal is only a single crack in the wall between dimensions, and the physically larger Digimon cannot pass through it. This reality remains safe from the likes of Leviamon or Belphemon, and several other kinds of Digimon."

Tai smirked. "Oh-kay, that's a step in the right direction."

Before Hikari could speak again, their attention was immediately drawn to the sphere, which had begun releasing arcs of blue electricity. Its surface rippled as a Sistermon Blanc emerged on their side of it, followed by a mixed bag of the Noir and Blanc varieties of the doll Digimon.

"Rejoice," bellowed one of the Sistermon Noirs, without really looking at her audience. "We bring the most wondrous glorious news: Soon this world will be no more, snuffed out by the power and grace and glory of Lord Lucemon! The unworthy will be slaughtered by the thousands, and those who accept the gospel will be taken to the realm of God, to paradise! Where do you stand, ye tiny ones?"

WarGreymon stared blankly, momentarily at a loss for words. "Get outta here!"

"Please, let us help you, unclean one," implored the same Sistermon Noir. "It is not your fault you Digivolved the way you did, how could it be, Digivolution is a mess, but we have the means to cure you. If you would only accept the grace of God, you could be reborn a purer and wiser being."

Angewomon glared under her helmet, perplexed by their nonsense. "Do you even listen to yourself? You're brainwashed by this Lucemon guy-" she paused, seeing the black-clothed ones of the group level their guns at her.

She froze, gripped with panic. The Sistermon Noirs yelled 'BLESSED FIRE' and pulled their triggers. The closest Deep One lunged in the way with impressive speed, and were pumped full of virtual lead. WarGreymon rushed to fling a Terra Force blast at the flock of invaders. The ball of fire detonated with a flash of light and a deafening bang. Scattered around were Digieggs and a few unconscious Sistermon.

Breathing hitched, Tai waited for his heart to stop pounding away before turning to Hikari. "Explanation, please. What were they on about, and who's Lucemon?"

The Avatar of Dagomon stared at the Digidestined of Courage for a moment, deliberating how much information to impart and how best to phrase it. "The Sistermons who you just encountered serve and worship Lucemon, one of the rulers of the Dark Area dimensions. Part of their doctrine is the belief that all other forms of life are blasphemous."

"Big deal," Angewomon scoffed.

Two days had almost passed since the Digidestined learned of the abnormality, and of the endless demon hordes that threatened their existence on this particular occasion. Since then, the Sovereigns had absconded that Digital World in their entirety, and Zhuqiaomon had returned to help safeguard the Dimensional Phase Warp from all the horrors that lurked in the virtual realms of the infernal.

Around the sphere's exit point in one of the Digital Worlds on the Sovereign Server were neither Hikari or the Digidestined to be seen: Only four Deep Ones and the guardian God of the south sectors.

Around the sphere's exit point in one of the Digital Worlds on the World of Darkness Server were one Angewomon and one Myotismon; them, and a really freakin' huge horde of Devidramons in their service. Frick, there had to be hundreds of them.

"And you say that you found this... manifestation several hours ago?" Angewomon inquired guardedly to the Devidramon in question without looking in her direction, the angel's attention fixed on the sphere. She had a strong feeling that there was something extraordinary about it, beyond that it floated in the air and had ostensibly appeared from nowhere.

"Indeed, mistress," the Devidramon answered in the manner of a good sycophant; the last thing she wanted was to be killed for having served them loyally, which she hardly thought very fair or logical, or practical for that matter.

"Well, evidently, it merits a check," Myotismon announced. The vampire unfolded his arms and pointed at one of the Devidramons, the one who was standing a bit behind the one in the front. "Yes, you: Your task is to enter and report your sightings back to us. Any objections or questions?"

The Devidramon in question stepped forwards and bowed. "None, my liege," the dark dragon said, and leapt into the violet orb.

On the other end, the sphere was ignited with azure lightning, and its five guards knew perfectly what it meant. The Devidramon arrived quickly, and spotted upon his arrival five beings that were unknown to him; five beings that, he observed, dwarfed him greatly; five beings that didn't look pleased to see him.

On the end in their kingdom, the angel and the vampire waited minutes for the Devidramon to return. With the wave of a hand, Angewomon dismissed the horde; they quickly flew off, many in different directions.

Far from where the angel and demon were standing, in fact in different virtual hells and different regions of same, many individuals had discovered the Dimensional Phase Warp's physical manifestation.

In Barbamon's realm, the sphere floated atop a hill many continents away from the Demon Lord's castle. A Duskmon spotted it on her jaunt up the hill, and exclaimed, "What the hell".

In Lady Lilithmon's hell, a few members of the Dark Digidestined brigade (specifically: UlforceVeedramon; Katsu the Steel Warrior; Chiaki the Water Warrior; Sora) had stumbled upon the phenomenon. They had thought nothing of it and continued towards the citadel.

In the Cthyllaverse, ZekeGreymon had been conducting a routine patrol with assorted cybernetic and robotic Digimon when they happened to find a strange violet sphere. He acted without hesitating; MetalGarurumon and a Guardromon were sent in opposite directions to fetch back-up from the Guardians.

In other realities, other beings took notice; armies began to stir across many of the dimensions in Dagomon's multiverse. In the rest, the anomaly had either gone unnoticed or dismissed by the natives.

In the Digital World that she knew best, Biyomon trotted along with Sora for company. Suddenly, they spotted something truly surprising, and the bird let out a squawky gasp.

A ginormous phoenix with plumage the color of fire, that seemed to radiate power, stood in the center of the valley. Next to it stood a few night-black human-looking things that Biyomon absently noticed to be about as big as Omnimon or Imperialdramon, in addition to plain creepy-looking, but barely reached higher than the knees.

"I've seen Godzillas smaller than that thing," the ginger murmured to her best friend, brain rushing to find a word of for how she felt around ... whoever that Digimon was. She found only small. Smaller than she could remember ever having felt in her whole life.

Shaking the feeling off, she held out her Digivice. "Time for some action!" she announced to Biyomon, who nodded.

The square device in Sora's hand turned orange, and emitted a light from its screen.

The feline's external shell became coated in white light, and as she yelled, "Biyomon Warp-Digivolve tooooo!", her body was reconfigured into her particular Ultimate, while within her shell proceeded the transformation sequence for that metamorphosis. Transformation completed in a moment, she announced her new name as Garudamon.

In the corner of his eye and his mind's eye, the Digimon Sovereign noticed the Digivolution, and glanced in that direction. He eyed the avian acutely as it approached with a human on its leg.

"Hi, we're here to help," the red-head said to the godly being.

Zhuqiaomon glared, ire rising in him, at the Digidestined. He recalled the moments in the past that Digimon had been impotent, victims to be saved by human hands: the Millenniummon incident; the D-Reaper's slaughter. He swore in all twelve DigiCores that he would not fail his people again, his eyes aglow with fiery energies.

"You can help by returning to your own world," the vermilion bird growled. They stared blankly at Zhuqiaomon, not having expected that sorta answer.

"Excuse me?" the anthropomorphic bird asked.

"I was entirely clear in my meaning," Zhuqiaomon grunted. "You aren't needed here, so go home. I think you would prefer doing so alive."

The Digidestined of Love glared in unison. "Look,we're two of the Digidestined; we're not here to fight you, just the army of bad guys threatening this world," Sora said as inoffensively as she could.

The phoenix grumbled mentally that Azulongmon's 'Digidestined' idea was both unmanageable and wearying, however effective they were in furthering the evolution of the Digimon races. "I know perfectly who you are, but it doesn't alter my judgment. I will not tell you two again: Leave this world, now."

The Deep Ones shared vaguely tired glints-in-their-eyes.

"Lord Zhuqiaomon," began one of the aquatic beings, "if I may speak-"

The South God spread his wings wide, silencing the Deep Ones. "You may most certainly not. You are here purely to contribute with your strength. If I desire your council or insights, I'll ask for them."

Another Deep One shrugged to the duo of Love. Sora sighed. "Okay, fine. If you really think you're up to the task of handling this Phase Warp thing, we'll back off."

Zhuqiaomon looked, stony-faced, at them as theý departed. His attention was, a minute later, drawn to the hole in reality letting a dozen Devimons and SkullSatamons through.

The phoenix and the Deep Ones immediately went to work.

The South God wildly fired his Desolation Blast and Phoenix Fire attacks at the invaders, ignoring their every effort at defending themselves or fighting back. The Deep Ones changed into their Winged One forms to aerially escape the rising tide of hellfire.

The inflood of demons continued; for each that Zhuqiaomon's bonfire consumed, occasionally as many as eight came through from the other side. Only the lucky ones didn't land in one of the many scattered fires upon exit or were of a species (such as Meramon and Cerberumons) that could weather it. In either event, they quickly became additions to the rapidly growing-and-shrinking pile of DigiEggs that littered the ravaged landscape, courtesy of the pissed god guarding the area.

The rush of Devimons and SkullSatamons soon ended, replaced by a mixed bag of Nightmare Soldier species at the Champion Level: Generally Vilemons, though there were also some BlackGatomons and Stingmons, and a lone Growlmon, along with three Wizardmons. They fell as easily as the ones before them, victims of the living inferno raging in that region.

Chapter Text

To understand a Time War, one would have to examine its effects: A single revisited event had, more often than not, the consequence of 'splintering' time, into a number of alternate realities. A... suitable visual metaphor would be a spider-web that continually gained new threads that connected to pre-existing pathways in obtuse angles.

While that particular metaphor was somewhat self-contradicting, in that the term 'splintering' implied the core process of alternate timelines branching off of Space-Time events to be somewhat-slash-somehow harmful to the wider spacetime continuum, whereas the term 'spider-web' implied the addition of new strands to be a natural occurrence by the 'spider' at the heart of the 'web', such was merely a consequence of translating multi-dimensional concepts into single-dimensional language.

To continue the metaphor of time as a spider-web, the Time War caused such 'strands' of new timelines to form 'instantly' (single-dimensional temporal terms as 'earlier', 'later' and 'now' were not relevant when there were multiple concurrent 'earliers'/'laters'/'nows'). Within these new timelines, history explored new potential lives of those within the divergent realities.

In one realized timeline, the warrior siblings Mervamon and Ignitemon joined a team of Zone-wandering heroes known as the Fusion Fighters to restore peace and order, and repair their Digital World. They never learnt of the Time War, even as a fleeing Nightmare Child hid inside them both.

In one realized timeline, the warrior siblings had been dragged, fighting and bleeding, into the Time War before they could join either the Fusion Fighters or the Bagra Army. Their pasts and presents and futures quaked around them: Amid the spatio-temporal chaos, incestuous dalliances provided a small measure of distractive comfort and boundless worry that she fell pregnant because of them.

In one realized timeline, Mervamon had been forced to slay her brother after his refusal to leave the Bagra Army. An unanticipated vampire attack left them both undead. Time passed for them, and they eventually became rampaging mass murderers. Decades and centuries passed, and as they continued to drink blood and consume flesh, what little remained of their former selves whittled away. They joined the legions of eldritch abominations and Lovecraftian monstrosities that were the Mid-Level powers of the Time War.

That term, incidentally, was something that all true combatants in this War agreed: There were Low-Level combatants, and there were Mid-Level combatants, and there were High-Level combatants. This measuring system had even formed the basis for a saying: If you need to ask where you rate, you're Low-Level.

But to return to the matter of the 'spider-web' metaphor: Just as certain portions of a spider-web could (under highly improbable circumstances) become congested lumps from countless strands intersecting at exactly the same spot, so too did the infinitely spawned timelines often/occasionally intersect at one specific space-time event. Not necessarily a small skirmish or a war claiming billions of lives from across the dimensions, but not necessarily not those kinds of events.

When such spatio-temporal intersection occurred, there was always a chance that the whole tangled mesh of timelines weighed down too heavy on spacetime. So it happened that spacetime itself collapsed under the strain, leaving a gaping 'hole' in spacetime where/when the collapse had occurred. These 'holes' could be of any size, but never larger than a galaxy nor longer than a few thousand years.

Such was a truth of a Time War: Time and Space were as much victims as the millions who died waging the battles (really, the list of casualties was Quite Long, even without factoring in the multiple methods of death for alternate iterations of the combatants).

...

Somewhere an sometime, a battle was waged. Actually, it held true for pretty much everywhen and everywhere in a Time War, but eh.

The broadsword was buried into the Arresterdramon. It was retracted immediately after, with greenish blood coating it. The dragon collapsed from the grievous wound that it had been dealt, and dissolved into incoherent particles of data.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mervamon spotted a few more Strikedramon charging towards her and swung her blade forcefully. The stomachs of two were sliced open, and they in turn decompiled, and the others were likewise disposed of quickly and mercilessly.

Amidst the fierce fighting, the warrior found time to ponder about her situation. She noted that she had lost sight of Ignitemon during the Church's invasion: It did not escape her that he might well be dead, but still she prayed for his survival. She paused, driving her blade through the stomach of an Arresterdramon.

Though with only the senses of a human, she was virtually stumbling blind in a war stretching through infinity and beyond eternity: The current battle was relatively insignificant, occurring concurrently in two timelines. It added very little to the tangled mess of the whole, but served to entrench Mervamon and Ignitemon deeper still in the conflicts of possibility.

In both dimensions, the slaughter proceeded much the same: Exactly 1273 adherents of the Latterday Church of Sun=Millenniummon met their deaths, either at Mervamon's Olympia Kai or Ignitemon's chakram. A small section of two parallel Dragon Lands were secured, but it hardly mattered.

In one version of reality, this was the end of it; the warrior siblings returned to the Olympus XII base to seek the next conflict. In the other, the conflict was renewed and escalated by the arrival of The Gone.

Far from the two and the multitude of corpses, the hordes of could-have-been and never-happened appeared, too substantial to appear like the ghosts they were. Friends, family, lovers, children, enemies, lords, subjects: All were assembled with the same goal, to kill all that lived for no better reason than that it lived.

The things that never happened did not rush to the slaughter: They instead strolled leisurely across the bloodsoaked wasteland like it was a literal walk in the park. From the bird's-eye perspective, the hordes formed rings around the two of them, slowly closing on their prey.

Mervamon grumbled throatily when she noticed the approaching enemies. "Prepare for combat," she called out to her brother. Ignitemon nodded, unseen to her, and charged towards his foes.

In mere moments, the divide between them was bridged. "Fath-" was all that one of them, a young girl, could utter before a stab of his chakram silenced her. The girl fell, bleeding profusely.

With a single, calculated motion, three more of them were wounded by the blades. Ignitemon knew that it wouldn't kill them - The Gone were creatures of chronology rather than biology - but it would delay them for the duration.

Brief glances at the children wandering and dying around him sickened him - reminded him of the awful things Mervamon and him had committed for the sake of momentary distraction from the Time War - but he did not hesitate merely due to their dying shambles.

The fighting continued literally without end. The manifestated bodies of The Gone entity possessed neither the strength nor skill to cause them; it seemed that the eldritch abomination would rather toy with them than actually fight them. Neither of them sustained even meager injuries in waging this battle.

In truth, it did not matter however they fought for survival: Their existences would be swallowed 'when' the constant timetravel and spatiotemporal manipulations and multi-dimensional warfare made it a logical impossibility that they had ever been born.

That was, of course, for whatever time they had been subjected to the surreal cycle of being excised from all space and time, then woven back in, then excised again again, then woven in again, then excised again.

Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in. Excised out. Woven in.

Already, some other time-active force had caused their past to never have occurred. Of course, that applied only to the versions of Mervamon and Ignitemon that would actually be affected by the spatiotemporal tidefall: Those sufficiently far removed from the region of spacetime that was being twisted around would, logically, not be affected.

Indeed, several loops of that cycle had already occurred, and it might seem comical that the warrior siblings were blinking in and out of reality at random intervals in that hour.

Twenty minutes in, they were removed altogether from the whole of time and space. Fifteen minutes in, they returned, blissfully unaware of the shifts and shudders in what they perceived of reality, to wage the skirmish once more. All the while, The Gone's forces remained present there, even when it made no sense.

Each time, the details and specifics of their situation were subtly different. A somewhat suitable analogy would be the repair of a broken vase: There would always be signs of breaking and repair in the wake of the event. Of course, from a point of view in the three spatial dimensions, the signs would be above one's scope to see.

On the battlefield where and when the warrior siblings currently were, reality itself shuddered in response to what had occurred immediately before. It was not a mere physical thing, more a metaphysical entity reacting to a physical event.

Around them, the countless children that The Gone had leveled at them disappeared completely. Not only that, but the temporal forces generated by the core event, infinite possibilities of the futures consolidating into a singular reality.

Left to themselves in the ravaged forest, the two Generals reflected on what had just occurred. The ten-foot-tall warrior turned to the seven-foot-tall warrior. The two exchanged a heavy look that communicated clearly that this matter should not be delayed.

Her arms moved up to remove her ornate piece of headgear. He did likewise, revealing his whole head and his two eyes which were larger than those of an ordinary human.

"Ignitemon," she began. Her voice was slightly throaty and the word sounded strained to even utter.

Before any further words could be exchanged, reality itself collapsed, again, as it caught up with the paradox of their continued existences. Such was the nature of a Time War: Everything happened, all at once, and sanity went flying out the nearest gash in the skin of spacetime.

Chapter Text

Calumon cheers the dinosaur on as Guilmon dives into the swamp again. The kitsune studies the pair amusedly, and holds up a score-card of six-point-eight, while the bunny-dog hybrid next to her gives a lower score of four-point-two, holding the card up in both ears.

A moment passes and Guilmon has yet to emerge from the swamp, though they can still faintly make him out in the murky depths of the gunk. Underneath the water, Guilmon looks curiously around for a frog to eat.

Renamon resists the urge to roll her eyes at their antics. ... "Though, there's still so much about humans I don't know so perhaps it could really work..."

A few minutes later, Guilmon surfaces, proudly holding a captured frog in his claws.

Though the entire situation is nothing but fun and games for the four Digimon - relatively speaking; Renamon isn't all that amused -, the frog is panicking instinctively at being forced away from its natural environment and captured for the selfish amusement of strange and unknown creatures that are neither human nor animal, for reasons it does not understand; in that sense, the frog is indeed trapped in a cosmic horror story, but the Digimon remain oblivious to its plight.

Though it tries to convey its fear and pleading to them, it came out as indistinct croaking, dismissed as quickly as it was heard. Before it, it saw momentarily a group of its friends and family in whatever it was the humans had brought.

Guilmon tosses it into the bag, wondering offhandedly why it hasn't talked to him, but shrugs it off; sometimes Renamon didn't talk much either, the dinosaur figures, and leaps into the swamp again, as oblivious to panic he causes its residents as he was on the dozen-or-so dives before this one.

At no point during the whole thing do they consider the morality of what they're doing, nor do they feel a need to justify it; they're Digimon, after all, they live to fight, to bolster their own power at the expense of the lives and well-beings of other life-forms.

It is only later that morning that Takato and Kai learns what the Digimon've been up to, and are suitably shocked by their callous actions.

"Guilmon, it's... it's just a phrase," Takato murmurs, eyeing the bag of dead frogs with disgust. Guilmon gives a look of dawning comprehension, chirping that it explains everything; frogs taste worse than bread. Takato simply nods, and doesn't want to think about what Guilmon's just said even though it's staring him right in the face.

The young Tamer makes a point of not letting Guilmon out of his sight for the rest of his vacation, and considers getting him a leash once they're back in Shinjuku...

In the corner, Renamon leans against a wall, her eyes both icy and electric and ablaze as usual, only now, Takato sees embarrassment in her eyes as well, and he's not surprised.

Half an hour later, Rika returns from her beach-side stroll, and spots immediately a bag of frogs lying limply on the desk; she identifies. Its presence confuses her and she wastes no time in asking about it. "Anyone mind explaining in one sentence why there's a bag of frogs on the desk?"

Takato looks around, hoping for someone to explain what Guilmon's been up to.

"Well, Miss Nonaka, it seems that the talking dog's been up to no good." The old man answers matter-of-factly while fiddling with his shamisen, which leaves the ginger-haired girl with more questions than answers - she'd already figured that someone had been messing arounds from the bag of frogs on the dinner-table - why does he think that Guilmon's a dog? - but decides that she doesn't care.

"Whatever," Rika sighs, wishing only to get out of this absurd situation. "Just get rid of the frogs before lunch," She instructs them as if she owns the place and is just begrudgingly tolerating their staying, and leaves the house. Kai knows that he ought not to find her attitude appealing, yet does anyway.

Above them, an upside-down Calumon pretends to walk around on the ceiling, paying their conversation no heed, breaking stride only when the appetite for another frog surfaces. When he does, he find that they're missing, and bemoans their loss.

Chapter Text

Though it is a very old saying, the oldest, the wisdom of the phrase 'be careful what you wish for' isn't diminished by age, quite the contrary, in fact. Almost certainly, it's a moral that Kotone Amano would have done well to recall, if she had been aware of it.

By now, it is almost certainly too late to recall that.

"Do we have a deal?" The spirit-Digimon sneers to her. Christopher is beside the girl, his protests ignored by one and missed entirely by the other.

"Two years," Kotone insists petulantly. Five years is too long for her tastes.

"Agreed," Moon=Millenniummon answers; it would have been satisfied with one year, but sees no reason to tell the human of that. "Now, let us re-enact the abominable legend from long ago, let us fly together through the worlds of time!"

Along one of several rocky pathways that floats, alone and abandoned by time, against a ash-white backdrop that is both earth, abyss and heaven, the young human walk apace, counting her steps - seventy, seventy-one, seventy-two, seventy-three - towards their next destination for the fun of it. Only somewhat does she grasp the severity of the situation she's in, youth and denial both keeping her from things she'll rather not dwell on.

Briefly, she wonders if her 'companion' will understand or appreciate the finer details and subtleties of an american joke...

Around her neck, the crystal that contained Moon=Millenniummon is attached to a thin brown string, worn as a necklace, despite the sentience of the object. The crystal floats of its own volition, pointing directly ahead.

"Ninety-two, ninety-three, ninety-four-" She counted cheerily from time to time to pass the time as she passed through time, halting when she felt the charm drop lifelessly. As expected, it began to gleam from within, bathing her and the dirt and the bedrock in dirty-gold light.

Seemingly building itself, a new trail of bedrock forms and makes a short alternate pathway for them to wander. It ends in a crystalline mirror and on it is depicted a tall man that she decided to be about forty, blond-haired and in dark-blue clothes. A bright-red light shone from within his shades, tinting them crimson.

The man's only company is a hulking winged dragon-serpent (or perhaps it's the other way around, she muses, and the serpent-dragon is keeping him company) that slithers around the building that they both are on. She wishes that it will zoom out so she can get a better look. Suddenly, it does, as if it or Millenniummon has heard and granted her wish.

Once it has, she recognizes the place as the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building.

On her neck, she dimly registers her pendant move slightly as if the inhabitant was demanding attention. In the corner of her eye, she spots the crystal emit a pale-gold light and before her, the newly-constructed pathway crumbles away as the dozens before it had.

As has become a sort-of routine by this point, the crystal-being urges her further towards whatever goal it has in mind or whatever place it wants to go. The girl is nothing but content to follow; out of all the ways she had thought of to ensure Nene's safety, this isn't among them but she's not about to complain.

She continues to stroll down the path, the crystal showing her visions of other worlds, other times and other stories - the next collection of images depicts someone, a guy with glasses and a aquatic-looking Digimon, having his own adventures.

In the first, the boy is trapped in the Digital World, called to fight some bad guys that Kotone never really sees; she hopes that he makes it and thinks she'll like to meet him, someday or sometime.

She moves on to the next world-trapped-in-ice, humming the tune of a song she's picked up - "Draw me with a picture of a higher place I know..." - somewhere in this cavalcade of tales, from a boy named Aang and his two partners-for-life, Wizardmon and Witchmon.

Time has passed, she notes, and the boy is not quite a boy anymore. All the same, the adventure continues and grows to encompass and change the worlds.

In the third, that adventure's never happened, but the boy has others. Kotone pauses and blinks when she hears the boy exclaim 'Bio-Merge Activate' and together, him and his partner... becomes a Digimon, incredibly, one that she recognizes from the first adventure, a MetalSeadramon.

In the fourth, she giggles to herself while wondering if she should, seeing and hearing the same boy shout 'Fusion Evolution' and transform into some kind of dragon made of water.

By this point, the point is made abundantly clear to the demon; no matter what the world, the element the boy is tied to never seems to change. But perhaps, it wonders idly, it is not looking in the right place for what it seeks or even in the right direction.

Its prism-vessel gleams gold once again and ushers a thin mist across the mirror they're currently looking into. The mist clears as quickly as it forms, giving her a good look at them but she understands fairly little of what's going on in there.

She recognizes them all from previous shows - three human teens and three Digimon - but their names elude her; beside the brown-haired girl of the trio, a white-skinned creature with big ears begins to change, becoming what she recognizes as an angel, or the Digital World version.

Suddenly, the image fades from the mirror; Millenniummon's deemed fit not to show her more, but why he decides that particular moment puzzles her. A distance behind them, she hears the familiar rumble of bedrock being twisted to make a new path.

She turns and sees that the new road leads upwards, to the trail where she remembers having seen that guy who punches Digimon with his bare hands and the people with that 'DNA-Charge' thing and the whatnot.

She strolls cheerfully along the path, curious to see what's up there; after seeing what the previous Bio-Merge forms he's gotten, Millenniummon's a bit interested to see what other possibilities exists.

Once they get there, he releases that golden light and the moment where Agumon Digivolves for the first time plays before them, diverging into multiple potential timelines, Millenniummon observes.

Since the 'real' timeline has it as GeoGreymon, that's what they see, however; Millenniummon disagrees with the outcome, forcing it to rewind, minutes only yet enough to make all the difference in the world, an alternate world sustained by his will and power.

It becomes Greymon instead; Millenniummon cares not for the hum-drum battle between Digivolutions and accelerates the second timeline, observing SkullGreymon, and after that, a Machinedramon that never reaches the Burst Mode, because that's the last thing the worlds need; a inexhaustible juggernaut with the power to level quadrants in hours.

Not yet satisfied with just one imposed timeline, it mentally tugs at time itself, pushes and pulls at moments and events, mentally calculating the probabilities of the changes it seeks to impose and rewrites them to get what it wants; the end-result is another timeline; Lalamon never comes to exist in that universe, he observes, and Yoshino Fujieda never joins DATS, instead becoming a mousy college-student with with good grades and confidence-issues ingrained at the center of her soul.

Behind and above and around it, Kotone sighs boredly, wondering why the images here keep changing. Millenniummon doesn't know and wouldn't much care if it did.

Again, it locates and forces another possible timeline into becoming 'real'; both observe a timeline where someone it vaguely recalls to be named Miki Shirakawa rises to prominence in the Digital Accident Tactics Squad, Japan Department, even managing to Digivolve her partner all the way to Mega Level and Burst Mode.

It's a extent of power, Millenniummon notes, to watch out for once it begins its conquest, but it wonders if a human could manage to generate DNA-Charge energy without assistance from Digivices and other such technology.

So it subjects a moment in time years before her adulthood to a bit of pressure to help it along; she's ten-years-old, trapped in the Digital World, and it takes several tries - moments after arriving, she's killed on the spot by Keenan - an hour after arriving, Gotsumon kills her after she's narrowly escaped Falcomon - an hour and two minutes after she arrives, Gotsumon leaves a girl more dead than alive buried in rubble - a month after her arrival, a physically and mentally scarred human child is taken in by the Chessmon Empire, not because they care but have a use for her unique power - a year after her entry into the Digital World, she's a queen with the rights and privileges of a slave - before the outcome is palatable to it and imposes a fifth timeline on a universe that can only safely have a single one.

Kotone watches, horrified and crying all the while, wholly unused to the idea of death; the reality of it is far worse and far harder for her to cope with. The spirit of the pendant does not care; they made an agreement, and that's all there is to be said.

Elsewhere, it spots another potential timeline that intrigues it, and forces it too to the fore; with Thomas' Digivice broken beyond repair, a traveling girl by the name of Jeri Katou informs them of another way to gain power, and for the first time - for them; for him, it's nothing new - Gaomon and Thomas Bio-Merge together, and MirageGaogamon Burst Mode singlehandedly becomes the savior of both worlds, fighting down a panoply of threats beyond Kurata and Yggdrasil.

By now, Moon=Millenniummon's seen all it feels it needs to from that universe, it lets go, and the freed timelines collapse back into each-other; their inherent contradictions rip both themselves and the others apart, and the universe rewinds, back to about the only possible divergence-point they all had.

As had happened before, Keenan is sucked into the experimental Digi-Gate, and the dark god assumes that the timeline marches on as it originally did; it doesn't care enough to check, nor does it have the time to do so.

A few hours, metaphorically speaking, pass in this timeless void, and their journey continues onwards, witnessing countless more wonders and stories of those who destiny seem to revolve around.

She doesn't know long ago that is, but she doesn't mind either. Somehow, despite neither having a way to tell time, it suddenly speaks, sounding almost glad to be rid of her; the feeling's mutual, she thinks. "Our journey is over."

The crystal shines, and before her, a portal forms, leading into a forest. The Digimon pulls both her and its string along, into it, and once they're outside in the forest, he simply floats off the string, as if it had never been attached at all.

It disappears, leaving her stranded in a forest far from home. Filled with hope that Nene's around somewhere nearby, she calls out her name. "NENE!?"

A few moments pass there, before any kind of response greets her; it's not Nene, but it's a familiar face regardless. "Hey, Sparrowmon," She greets, catches herself and giggles; she can swear that she doesn't sound like that, or least, she didn't before setting out with Millenniummon through the worlds of time.

The yellow plane-bird eyes the child curiously; he doesn't really know much about humans, but she looks and sounds so much like Nene as a child that it's uncanny, and by the sound of it, she knows Nene somehow.

"Who are you?" He asks, critically, holding the blasters prepared in case the girl proves hostile, but to his surprise, the girl simply giggles, so much that it starts to get annoying and slightly unnerving.

"Doncha recognize me?" Kotone asks and strikes a pose, eyes closed and grinning widely. Sparrowmon's eyes widen in recognition of the girl's expression, but that's utterly impossible; Kotone has been gone way longer than the two years Nene's told them she would be.

Not only that, but this girl's clearly twelve or thirteen, not nine or ten like Kotone should be. At the same time, the plane-Digimon finds, she looks too much like Kotone to not be her.

He decides that this is too wearying and confusing to bother with, and takes her back to the house. An admiring look forms on Kotone's face at the sight of the mansion deep inside the forest, at the upper corner of the three-fold heart.

A short while, Kotone is face-to-face with her incredulous sister, and begins to realize just how long she's been gone; it doesn't surprise her to hear that it's longer than she has bargained for with Millenniummon, but on the other hand, she figures and looks at the bright side, she aged a bit too, so it's all good.

It doesn't take Nene long to begin getting her caught up to speed about what's happened in her absence.

Seven years ago on Earth, the Fusion Fighters took down Bagramon and ended the wars. Kotone nods at this, as it's nothing but good news.

After that, the Fusion Fighters returned to their own respectively worlds, humans to Earth and Digimon to the Digital Worlds. Kotone mopes at this, as it's not good news.

A year after that - Nene tells her while Beelzemon hands them freshly-made mugs of tea; Mervamon's favorite - Shoutmon, who had become King of the Digital World, restored the Zone System as nine separate Zones, with portals to each at his castle so that anyone could live in whatever environment they wished to.

Kotone nods absently, feeling tired about finally being able to rest. Mervamon chuckles, faintly worried, from the other couch, and assures the twelve-year-old that they'll have a bed for her to sleep in.

Kotone nods to Nene to continue the story. Nene complies but wonders if not a good night's sleep would be better first.

Six months after the restoration of the Zones and eighteen months after she disappeared, the DigiQuartz was created and the Digimon Hunt began. Kotone simply nods sleepily, having seen far too much to care.

Three months after that and after twenty-one months in totals, the nineteen-year-old continues, she began her idol career. It's a testament, Ewan decides, to how ungodly-tired she must be that Nene bringing up her idol-career doesn't even faze her.

Nearly on the second anniversary of her disapperance, the DigiQuartz was destroyed and the Digimon Hunt ended, Nene says and Kotone simply gives a token sigh to show she's listening.

After that, the woman says, nothing of importance happened until a few weeks after her seventeenth birthday, when she retired from an illustrious idol career and moved across dimensions, to the Neo Forest Zone. Behind her, Ignitemon grimaces, wondering if she in any way blames him for being separated from her parents; she's never said or indicated that, but that's how he'll feel if he had moved to Earth.

She finishes the story by telling her that basically, the mansion has become the Amano household. It's about then that Kotone finally passes out after having been on the verge of falling asleep for the past hour or so.

No-one objects or wants to when Nene picks up the girl, and carries her out of the living room; ten minutes pass quietly as they make their way towards their guest bedrooms. All the while, Nene feels a new variety of joy as her family and friends and lover is almost all gathered under one roof; though she misses her parents, she decided a while ago that her time on Earth was over.

She picks the first available bedroom and gently places on the bed. She smiles, realizing that she'd forgotten what the girl looked like.

"Sleep tight, Kotone," She whispers in the most maternal tone she can. That night, the multiverse-wandering girl sleeps better than she ever has before.

Chapter Text

A lime-haired woman, looking to be in her late twenties, strolled through a wasteland, dressed in clothes ill-suited for hiking (an orange t-shirt and jeans). A Veemon trotted along with her.

They stopped momentarily, abruptly noticing a pair of familiar faces. The features of his face were different from those of the man she knew, but not unrecognizable. In any case, him being accompanied by a Wormmon was a clincher of his identity.

Ken and Wormmon, atop the hill, stared wide-eyed at the other pair approaching them. In particular, the human regarded what was unmistakably a Veemon with mild surprise; he recalled having seen multiple Wormmons and Agumons, practically any species of Digimon that came to mind, but this was actually the first time he'd seen another Veemon.

"Hey," the woman - who strangely seemed to have green hair unless Ken's eyes were deceiving him; he stepped forwards for a better look, and noticed that she indeed did - greeted the former Digimon Emperor chipperly. Her voice carried mostly clearly to the other two.

Wormmon looked uncertainly at the other human, skittering closer as the Digidestined of Kindness walked.

Rina inclined her head at the young duo of Kindness. "I guess this is gonna sound pretty weird, but can you tell me what's happened for you two today?"

Ken and Wormmon reacted with wary glares aimed at the woman and dragon-child. The boy knew enough about life to know that random strangers asking weird questions were best kept away from. Ken stepped back, preparing for a fight.

Rina blinked at the sight, and likewise stepped back. "Wow. Guys, cool it. I'm not here to fight or anything of the sort. Just asking a question, that's all," she asked in a placating tone, her hands raised in surrender.

Ken inspected her momentarily, his brain at work for theories and explanations (an unknown adult Digidestined out on a stroll? Government agent investigating the Digital World?) for who the weird lady was . He decided he needed to know more).

"Heh," she smirked broadly. "But if you really wanna have your asses kicked, just try it."

Ken flashed a frown, and looked at Wormmon. Rina and V.V immediately knew that had been the wrong thing to say. Almost simultaneously, they hurried to whip their Digivices out (Ken noticed it to be almost the same type as his, save for having a ring of buttons around its screen).

At the same time that the indigo-haired boy declared, "Wormmon, Digivolve now!", the lime-haired woman declared, "V.V, time to Warp-Digivolve!"

Both the dragon-child and larva became enveloped in white-gold light, and their bodies began to metamorphose.

Beside Ken appeared a tall and lean bipedal insect, possessing of a carapace colored varyingly dark-green and black. His red eyes glistened, gaze keenly fixed on the other two, and deep-red hair jutting out from underneath his helmet.

Beside Rina appeared a dragon that towered over all three of them, possessing of a hide hued mixedly sky-blue and cream-white. A pair of red leathery wings jutted widely from his back. Three large horns were sticking out of the dragon's head: One from atop his nose, two from behind the ears.

"Look, guys," Rina addressed the Kindness duo again in an attempt to de-escalate the conflict. "Sorry for running my mouth just now, but please, believe me when I say that we're not your enemies."

A gust of wind suddenly swept through the area, derailing his train of thought. All four of them heard a noise right after; Ken was immediately reminded of the sound of lightning, though this noise was different from that, from anything he could remember.

Rina and AeroVeedramon turned around, spotting a ring of emerald energy floating a distance away. Said ring discharged its energies wildly, and both the air and space around it were blurry. AeroVeedramon stared darkly at the dimensional breach, pondering idly if it led to a hell dimension or a more mundane reality.

Ken and Stingmon walked forward to see what they were looking at. Ken had no idea what it was, it looked as though that ring was bending the world out of shape. He and Stingmon looked briefly at each-other, silently agreeing that this probably wasn't a good thing.

The ring released a thunderous noise when a dark figure leapt out. They recognized it as a Devimon.

"Oh, hi," the demon Champion greeted in a distinctly female voice, waving a hand eagerly. "This is probably gonna be some downer news, but we're gonna be conquering this world in the name of Mervamon, three days tops. No offense, you lot can't stop us, so it would be awesome if you just got in line with your new world order. It's actually pretty great. We've got it all."

Ken and Stingmon looked incredulously at the Devimon.

Rina just leaned her head back slightly, sighing. "The Cthyllaverse, figures."

Stingmon looked back and forth between the woman and Devimon. "What is the 'cthyllaverse', exactly?" he asked the woman and the Ultimate.

"An alternate reality," AeroVeedramon growled, his reply almost inaudible over the sounds of the ring. "A hell dimension under the control of a group called the Guardians of the Cthyllaverse and their boss, Cthyllamon, the God of Evil. So, yeah, incoming apocalypse."

The duo of Kindness stared, unmitigated shock and horror all over their faces. Rina spoke a few word all present save AeroVeedramon missed, and the bright warm light of Bio-Merge Digivolution consumed them both in barely a moment.

Virtual energies coursed through every scrap of matter in their bodies, whether it was virtual or baryonic, changing their code and recreating them as one being.

The exalted knight, UlforceVeedramon was now to be seen where the human woman and Ultimate level dragon had previously been. Ken and Stingmon were both speechless at the impossible union.

"Ulforce Saber," they spoke together with both voices. Faster than anyone there could see, the bi-gendered knight-in-shining-armor vanished from hir spot and reappeared behind Devimon with their turquoise laser-blades extended.

Now bisected down the right shoulder to the left side of her waist, the demon grunt immediately exploded into loose data and reconfigured as a DigiEgg.

Ken breathed audibly, reviewing the hectic events of the past fifteen minutes. Strangers who talked like they knew him, portals to other worlds, the God of Evil, the end of the world, and had that dragon said 'hell dimension'? That was it, once he got back home, he was going straight to sleep no matter what. This was getting too weird, even by Digiworld standards.

UlforceVeedramon checked the portal quickly, confirming it as currently inactive (good, thought Rina), before checking on Ken and Stingmon.

"Guys, get out of here," the dragon knight told them hastily, in Rina's voice, with a note of concern attached. "You're not badass enough for this job."

Ken blinked, then focused on her. Part of him agreed with her - him and Stingmon standing alone against however many hundreds of Digimon wasn't probably going to end well - but he refused to stand aside and let them do as they pleased with the Digital World.

His answer was drowned out by a thunderous noise from the portal. Arcs of azure electricity ran rampant on its surface. Through it stepped a horse, with orange-and-white fur and golden wings. Ken and Stingmon both recognized it as a Pegasusmon, but to their mutual surprise, this Pegasusmon looked a lot bigger than the one Patamon turned into.

The insectoid behemoth glanced over the area. One human, one Champion and one Mega seemed all that this world fielded for its own defense, which he could roll with.

"Hi, I'm Pegasusmon X6," he greeted the gang informally. "Sooo, listen here: You ain't got a chance in any hell of stopping us all, so I really recommend calling it quits before we bring in the big shots."

Ken's breath hitched. He almost didn't want to see what he meant by 'big shots'.

"Dragon Impulse X!" hollered both voices of UlforceVeedramon, in response to that boast. Around the exalted knight, an aura of white light, of such intensity that it almost was blinding, flared into existence. Then, they vanished from sight.

The empowered Armor had barely a second to take that in, before feeling a sharp pain. In the very next second, the body of the Digifused Armor exploded, and the bits and bytes left began reconfigured into a single egg.

They charged back to the sides of Ken and Stingmon. Brief gusts of wind swept over the area, to the surprise and discomfort of Ken who grimaced. Stingmon looked upon the dragon knight with mixed awe and unease once it settled in what they had done to the Pegasusmon.

UlforceVeedramon turned around, gaze fixed on Ken and Stingmon. "Guys," both of hir voices told them. "There's literally no way to predict what's coming through next, so unless you feel up to the challenge of fighting an Apocalymon or something much worse-" they halted at the sound of the portal's electrical discharge filling the air.

Down on the ground, the four of them saw that a group of about twenty had emerged. The Kindness pair recognized them only as red dinosaurs; the hybrid UlforceVeedramon recognized them as Growlmons, and Rina swore mentally.

The Royal Knight lookalike charged. In less than a second, they had crossed the distance between their spot in the air and the area occupied by the Growlmons on the ground. Moving faster than the dinos could see, UlforceVeedramon delivered flurries of punches to each of them.

On the proverbial clock, another second of another minute of another hour ticked over. Sudden pain rushed through the various Growlmons, and the reconfiguration procedure began for most of them.

The three Growlmons who remained spotted both the UlforceVeedramon and what was happening to their comrades. It took varying lengths of time, though within the same few seconds, for them to piece it together.

UlforceVeedramon rushed at them again, dealing each of them a single blow. Mentally dismissing them, V.V turned UlforceVeedramon's head up to check on Ken and Stingmon. To their mutual relief, the guys were still up there. Then, they observed the descent of the Kindness duo to ground level.

"What's going on here?" called a male voice that was oh-so-familiar-yet-oh-so-different to both UlforceVeedramon's minds. The three physical present turned, and saw several familiar faces run towards them.

UlforceVeedramon eyed them. "Guys," she addressed the assembled Digidestined, with open worry. "You need to run. because this," they pointed to the portal, "is way above what you're prepared to handle."

The Digidestined reacted in various ways; Hawkmon and Kari looked wary, Davis and Veemon smirked, TK frowned almost darkly, Cody studied the gateway curiously.

"Relax," Davis retorted, "we handled Kimeramon, we can stop this too."

UlforceVeedramon now looked vaguely glum. "While I'm not sure of how many, there could be hundreds of Kimeramons on the other side. Maybe we're even talking a four-digit number."

A look of abject horror flashed onto Ken's face at the thought of more of that monstrosity. TK's hands flew to his mouth, as if in a failed attempt to contain his gasp. The others regarded the warrior with clear disbelief and concern.

Ken protested, "But, but… I only made one Kimeramon, how can there be more?"

"Kimeramon is a species, like Agumon or Wormmon," UlforceVeedramon disclosed. "You're not responsible for creating every Kimeramon in the world, Ken."

A glum air descended over their corner of this wasteland. Kari sighed tensely, and averted her gaze from the portal; being near it made some strange sensation rise up in her, one both pleasant and unpleasant in various ways.

"I've got a question," voiced TK after a pause, pointing to the portal. "Where does that portal-thing lead? For that matter, who are you?"

The Digidestined gang looked to the fused Mega. The V.V half of the fusion sighed mentally, pondering with Rina on how to answer that. Exactly how were they supposed to distill years of adventure and acquired information into a single sentence?

Finally, UlforceVeedramon answered in V.V's voice. "It's a very long story, Takeru."

The human Digidestined of Hope was a tad surprised, for few people called him by his whole name.

"The gist of it is, this thing," V.V went on while they lazily extended their arm towards it, "connects this plane of existence to a dimension called the Cthyllaverse. On the other side, there's literally an endless horde of Digimon eager to overrun this universe in the name of the God of Evil. If you can name a species, there's probably a ton of them running around over there," during the last word, they switched to the female voice, "so trust us on this one: Unless you can somehow form a single Mega, none of you are prepared for this kind of fight."

None of them seemed truly daunted by the prospect. UlforceVeedramon saw mild unease, but no real fear.

"Now my curiousity is piqued," voiced Hawkmon. "Are there two people in there?"

Both of UlforceVeedramon's minds agreed that the situation was getting out of hand. They weren't supposed to get this involved in history. It was just one of those missions, griped the male mind. The female thought back that it hadn't hurt anyone, yet, which V.V saw the truth in.

"Yeah, there are," Wormmon disclosed, eliciting wide surprise. "I don't really know how it's possible, but she was a human, an adult woman, that fused together with a another Veemon."

Definitely getting outta hand, V.V deadpanned telepathically.

"Look," Rina raised her voice, cutting a few of them off mid-sentence. "Yes, we're a human and a Digimon who became one, but that isn't important. We didn't come here to play twenty questions with you. We're just here because this thing is a threat against this whole damn universe! So, asking again: Do you have any way to reach the Mega level, or don't you? If not, I'm sorry, but this is above your weight class, and you need to go, get out of here while you can. Whatever you've been up against in the past, this is several times worse."

The hybrid received several defiant and annoyed glares.

A good while later from the perspective of this motley crew, the whole matter had been resolved, the portal closed, and UlforceVeedramon had departed their company. Now, V.V and Rina were back in the universe and the city they called their home.

Rina stepped into the apartment, V.V trotting beside her and quietly closing the door behind them. . They were soon back in the familiar environ of the living room.

Around the pair was a relatively large room that was moderately decorated. The imaginary camera fell on a few doors in the walls of the living room, and a sliding door of glass connected the west wall to the terrace and the outside world. A large table was positioned near the sliding door. Seated by the table was a man of moderate stature, dressed in a white shirt and jeans. He was occupied with a laptop whose screen was projected into the air.

On the room's right end, there were a couch and a handful of sitting mats around a small table. They were arranged neatly, to give a prime view of the wall-mounted TV if one so desired. On the room's left end, there was a single door, through which a small part of the kitchen was visible.

"Hey, guys," Davis greeted off-handedly, giving a half-smile. "How did your day go?"

V.V shrugged his shoulders. "Not bad. The worst of it was a Cthyllaverse incursion that didn't really amount to much."

Davis' face was tense, as he stood up. His mental chart of the World of Darkness told him that the Cthyllaverse was bad news any day of the week. They were alive, which he was greatly relieved by, so it obviously wasn't an end-of-the-universe scenario. "That's good to hear. Just so we're clear on this, are you both sure this is a settled affair?"

"I'm positive," Rina was quick to answer, half-wanting to roll her eyes. The lime-haired lady walked on over to the table, dragging out a chair for herself. "So, anyway, whatcha working on?"

Davis half-smiled. He knew his wife, and he knew what a 'let's change the topic' sounded like. "Just the usual," he disclosed. "Food supplies for the Koto place."

The woman nodded, noticing then that he looked tired, rather like he hadn't gotten much sleep recently. The chances of it were worryingly good. Their lives were hectic on both fronts. "So, scale of one to dead-ass, how are you holding up?"

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "Oh, I'm just peachy," he accentuated the word so much that it was practically smothered in sarcasm. "I mean, all I got to worry about is my job, where I have to be most of the day on every single day to keep things in working order. Who doesn't really help matters is my son, who likes to make whether I sleep at night into a game of russian roulette."

Rina sighed plaintively. She wasn't keen on wading through this argument again. She understood what he meant, and agreed with him. Still, if he felt a need to let off steam, she was ready to listen.

"What really sucks ass, though," he stared squarely at her, "is knowing that every day I wake up might be the one where I never get to see Akitoshi or you or any of the others, ever again."

A moment passed. Rina sighed heavily. They both knew what they wanted to ask, and they knew why they didn't. "C'mon, cheer up," she smiled. She reached for his hand, gently draping hers around it. "We've kicked the Demon Lords' asses more times than I can count, and we'll do it as many times as we'll have to."

A half-hearted smile grew on his face. Davis appreciated the gesture, he did, but it was cold comfort. Few things were more frightening than facing a Demon Lord and their army. Seeing his son lie dead on the ground was damned high on that list.

Seeing the glum look on his face, the red-eyed woman decided that another change of topic might help. "So, by the by, where's Veemon?" she feigned a look around the room for the tiny dragon. It didn't escape either Davis or V.V that she did. Rina cursed inwardly, but kept her smirk going.

"He went out for a flight as Paildramon," Davis answered matter-of-factly.

"And what time's-" Rina went on.

"Dinner's already ready," Davis finished the sentence. "I made pork cutlets. We can eat when Veemon's back or in five minutes, whichever comes first."

"Great," answered Rina, pleased. The other Veemon of the household began to leisurely trudge over to the TV. A moment passed before either of the Motomiyas said anything further. The silence was not quite an uncomfortable one.

Things quickly returned to mundanity and quietude in the Motomiya household. The fleeting evening hours were spent on snuggling up on the together and half-hearted TV watching.

Chapter Text

Silphymon's body shone with lavender energy, and reverted back into the Digimon that had formed the bi-gendered entity. Actually, scratch that: Rather than Aquilamon and Gatomon, they became Salamon and Pururumon again.

"Thank goodness that's over," sighed Wormmon.

It was only a moment later that he was proven wrong. From the depths of the nearby inky sea rose a blue tentacled creature of gargantuan stature, a wee distance from the beach. The six Digidestined looked at it, and immediately wished they hadn't.

They stood, almost petrified for a reason none of them consciously recognized. Ken dimly recalled things he didn't recognize, of an evil and terror beyond words.

For his part, Dagomon looked them over, spotting Kari in her twelve-yeared era among the lot with both his physical eyes and mind's eye.

He almost wanted to close his mind's eye, to shield himself from sensing the emanations of the Crest of Light. She radiated so much energy so rampantly that it was disorienting, almost painful, just to be near her.

He could feel the energies building, rising, yearning to be harnessed and given direction, seeping into the deeper structures of space around her and almost breaking them as well. It was how he imagined it would feel to be near a sun. How ironic, he thought, ignoring the twinges of discomfort. He fancied himself the Dark Sun God, yet her radiance was great enough to snuff him out.

After a moment's thought and inspection of them, he realized that she was at the point (or was it points? Hhhh, he so detested multidimensional hogwash) of her timelines where she made first contact with the Dark Ocean, and this time she had friends along for the journey.

That meant all kinds of things. One, she was not yet the mighty woman or goddess she would someday become. Two, she knew little of the multiverse or of the Higher Powers. Three, well, he could think of three later.

Another part of him was concerned by the aware that an energy-sensitive demon or stranger thing might already be aware of her presence here in the World of Darkness; if he and Hikari could sense her power from across the dimensions, it was then entirely possible for someone else to as well.

The behemoth leaned down towards them. None moved or spoke even as the monstrosity's burning red eyes stared directly at them.

"Hello," Dagomon said whimsically, in a voice so gravelly it ought to be voiced for cracking rocks.. The dread in their eyes immediately became befuddlement.

"H-hello," Kari stuttered slightly, eventually. No-one else said anything.

"Hello," Dagomon greeted again, casually.

"Hello," Kari repeated, with recovered nerve.

"Hello," said Dagomon for the third time, cracking a ghostly smile.

"Hello," Kari giggled lightly at the Digimon's silliness.

"Hello," Dagomon reiterated.

"What're you guys doing?" Yolei questioned.

"Not really sure," admitted Kari, sheepishly.

"Well, I am certain that there will be time to discern the purpose of that little exchange later," added the eldritch horror, "At the moment, I would like to cordially welcome you to the Dark Ocean, Digidestined. I am Dagomon, ruler of this world."

Hold on a moment, thought Salamon to herself, reality check time. Weird nightmarish world, check. Huge, ugly, scary, check. Being a gentleman, check. What the heck was going on here? Shouldn't this guy be threatening them or try to kill them? He was likely trying to fool them with sweet-talking.

"Thank you, sir," Ken bowed slightly, after a pause. "But I think we need to go back home."

"Go home? Nonsense!" Dagomon denied. "You have only just arrived here, I must insist on giving you a tour of this realm. And pleasantries aside," he added, good humour evaporating, "I have a matter to discuss with both you, Ken, and with you, Kari."

Varying degrees of surprise flashed over their features.

Kari froze completely, staring in shock at him.

Her features hardened quickly. "Okay, buster, that's it. I've been haunted by this stupid sea for weeks now, and I'm sick and tired of it, so you," she pointed to Dagomon, "officially have ten seconds to start giving me and my friends an explanation, about everything we want to know, and if not, you're going down, like the Dark Masters, like Myotismon, like Kimeramon, like all the bad guys we've ever gone up against."

A breathless silence immediately set in. Yolei and Pururumon were both a bit taken aback by her declaration. Salamon looked expectantly up at her human, fadedly recognizing her current mood.

Dagomon stared, speechless, at her. "If I currently had hands, I would give you a round of applause. Alas, all I am able to give you are the answers you request, as best I am able."

Kari nodded approvingly, a bit taken aback yet also relieved that it had been as easy as just asking. "Why does the Dark Ocean want with me? First it was those Scubamon-things that-" she swallowed nervously mid-sentence. Salamon alone understood why. The other five Digidestined looked at her with open concern. "Now you want whatever it is you want with me. Just... hhh, tell me."

"Of course," promised the giant, with a mildness in his voice that surprised Pururumon. "And, before I forget, allow me to extend my sincerest and unconditional apologies for that bit of unpleasantness. I tried to prevent it, but failed to arrive in time."

Kari nodded, more than happy to accept the apology.

With a thought from Dagomon, the flow of time ceased for all but him and his beloved.

Far away, on the Eternity Street, Hikari noticed that Dagomon had stopped time, from the part where all the Deep Ones and Shademon were halted amid their movements.

How to best approach the question, pondered the Dark Sun God, completely motionless except for consciously waving a tentacle around, just to try it out. He rather liked that gesture, he decided. Ought he to tell Kari and her allies about Hikari, about her eternal cycle of reincarnation and the dimensional engineering business, that godhood was her birthright? Well, why not? What reason was there to prevaricate?

Looking through his eyes, Hikari spotted six of the Digidestined on the beach, including her human self. She peered into Dagomon's recent memories, learning that this was only another instance of the mortals stumbling into the Higher Realms.

"Do you believe it will be necessary that I join the conversation?" Hikari thought to Dagomon.

"I do not. Your offer of aid is appreciated. In the event that it will be, I will ask," communed the Ultimate. The Dark Sun God allowed time to flow.

"The story is one dreadfully long and complex," Dagomon told them gingerly. "The fundamental fact of the matter is that I wish for you, Kari, to reclaim your birthright, your godhood."

A stunned silence ensued. Pururumon looked at Kari with a mixture of concern and confusion. Yolei stared blankly at Dagomon. Stingmon looked around, hoping that someone would understand the situation better than he did.

Kari stared, eyes wide with shock, at the Dagomon. Her brain was busy rebooting from that announcement. "G-godhood?" she stammered.

"I dunno who told you that, but you've got your circuits crossed," Salamon deadpanned. "Kari's not a goddess, she is a human."

Dagomon gave the Salamon a glance she couldn't read any better than lightly amused. "You are correct, she is currently a human, but this has always yet not always been true for her."

"Stop this," Kari snapped. "I asked for an explanation, the truth, not some half-cooked riddles. Whatta you mean, my birthright, and how is that godhood?"

Dagomon looked briefly apologetic. "Of course. Allow me to extend my apologies for that mistake," he paused, thought, then sighed. "I will attempt to be succinct: The tale begins a few hundreds of years ago, when-"

"Hold up," Yolei cut him off. "I still can't wrap my head about the fact that you're apparently a good guy. Mind explaining that one?"

Dagomon stared pensively at her for a moment. "Good? I would like to think so, and on my better days, perhaps I am. Evil, I consider myself not to be. Does that answer your question?"

Yolei nodded her assent.

Salamon was less convinced. That Dagomon was a good guy ran in the face of everything she'd ever heard. "I don't believe a single word of that," the canine argued.

"I have to agree, Mister Dagomon," Ken seconded in his most polite tone, with undisguised befuddlement. Dagomon shot him a look. "I mean, this is the World of Darkness, isn't? How can anything from it not be evil?"

The other five turned to Dagomon.

"Many believe that particular moral paradigm, that darkness parallel wickedness while light parallels goodness," the eldritch terror explicated, with a note of disdain. "The spectrum of morality is far more complex than that duality. It is perhaps," he paused to think, for longer than a moment. "It is moreso a truth that the concepts of darkness and light are separate from the concepts of good and evil, but that many combinations are possible. The Dark Ocean itself is an instance of good-aligned darkness. I also know of a being that is both of light and shadow, and aligned with evil."

Six pairs of eyes were staring in open incredulity and skepticism at him.

Ken took out his D3 and held it for Dagomon to see. "If that's true, then why did the Dark Ocean do this to my Digivice? Why did this ocean make it a tool of evil?"

"The Dark Ocean is a creator-force," Dagomon asserted, "a bringer of life and birther of wonders. The day you first stepped foot here, you placed your Digivice in the water. The dark forces at rest in these waters responded to your will, and altered your Digivice into a form with the abilities you yourself desired."

Ken nodded, stony-faced. It wasn't what he had expected to learn today, but it didn't really change anything: What he had done was still his fault and his alone.

"Concerning what Ken said about the Dark Ocean being the World of Darkness," Dagomon said, "the Dark Ocean is only the foundation layer of the World of Darkness, and several other dimensional planes exist beyond it. Together these comprise the World of Darkness."

A moment passed as they took that in.

"So the Dark Ocean is the hard-drive," Yolei thought aloud, "and it stores, what, other Digital Worlds?"

"I mean exactly that," Dagomon confirmed. "Now, to resume my tale: Hundreds of years ago, I and Kari, or Hikari as I knew her then, were busy with our great work. We pooled our energies, her radiance and my shadow, to form cosmic eggs from which new dimensions would hatch into the multiverse. During one such act of creation, the unknowable forces we thought ourselves capable of taming overwhelmed us. I was left gravely wounded while Hikari was scattered to the winds, across multiple spacetime continuums. One of her soul's fragments drifted into you," he pointed a tentacle at Kari.

A wave of gasps ran through the Digidestined, and they turned to look at Kari, who sported a flabbergasted expression.

"I," Kari stammered, almost unable to wrap her mind around all that. It had to be the world's biggest lie, she decided quickly. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling, somehow, just maybe, if the universe had stopped making sense, Dagomon was telling the truth.

She began rubbing her forehead with a hand, to dull her massive head-ache.

"That's the freakiest stupidest thing I've ever heard," Yolei protested. "Kari is not the reincarnation of some kinda dimension-creating goddess Digimon. Are you insane?!"

"I, hmmm," Dagomon paused to ponder it. "I have not assessed my personal sanity in several years, so it is a possibility, yes. That being said, Kari, I now offer you your godhood back; do you wish it?"

"No," Kari said weakly, lowering her hand from her face. "Look, I don't know, all this is a lot to take in, and I just... I'll have to think about it, Dagomon."

"Now we must attend to the second matter of the day. Ken, within," he raised a tentacle to point to the back of his neck, "err, the something of the something, inside of your material form lies an artifact called a Dark Spore. It is a piece of my technology that I gave to Millenniummon some time ago, and I would very much like to have it returned. In exchange for it, you may define any price."

Ken briefly traced the part of his own body that the other was pointing to, running two fingers over the back of his neck. The 'Millenniummon' name felt oddly familiar, but he couldn't recall where from. "Do you mean the back of my neck?"

A happy glint appeared in Dagomon's eyes. "Yes, yes, that exact area indeed. Now, may I have it back, please?" he extended a tentacle at him.

Ken thought it over briefly, deciding to play it safe; other than Dagomon's own words, he didn't really have a reason to believe Dagomon was a good guy like he claimed, gentlemanly conduct aside. "Just wondering, what are you going to do with it?"

"I intend to use it for my own purposes, whatever those become in practice," replied Dagomon, flatly. "Now I should warn you that the extraction might be uncomfortable, even painful, depending on how strongly it has bonded with you."

Ken frowned. "With all due respect, I think it would be best if I keep this Dark Spore thing. No offense, but I don't trust you."

Dagomon grumbled mentally. "And I cannot fault you for not placing your faith in a stranger, but if you will not willingly give it then I have no other choice but to reclaim my property by force," he said neutrally.

Ken and the others were momentarily alarmed.

Then, time froze around them.

Dagomon extended a tentacle forward towards Ken, reaching around to the back of his neck. Pressing against the virtual flesh, the material idea was removed without any resistance. Wrapping the tentacle around the spike-covered orb, he withdrew the appendage.

Then, time resumed its flow. Ken felt a sudden sharp pain in his neck, and his hand flew there immediately.

"Ken!" Stingmon shouted, and glared at Dagomon. "You had best be sorry for that."

"Yes, yes," Dagomon dismissed. "The current topic is what manner of compensation Ken wishes to receive in exchange for the Dark Spore."

Ken sighed, deep in thought, unsure of what to make of Dagomon. "I don't want anything, just that we can go home."

Dagomon sighed. "I suppose the tour will have to be canceled," Dagomon said, and mentally began the calculations. In his mind's map of the local area, he designated the area behind them as the spot to have its dimension coordinates overwritten.

He gestured with a tentacle to the interdimensional gateway. The sextet turned around to see the cliff-side area through a hole in the world.

Pururumon turned around again. "That is quite remarkable. May I ask exactly how you accomplished that?" asked the verbose avian.

"Thank you, I do as well as I am able. It is merely a parlor trick that I have mastered," answered Dagomon.

Without any more words exchanged, the group returned to their Digital World, where the sun was currently setting and the skies dyed orange. It roughly took fifteen minutes, during which Ken and Stingmon departed their company, before Gatomon, Hawkmon, Kari and Yolei found the other Digidestined again.

"Are you guys okay?" asked Davis and TK almost simultaneously to the four Dark Ocean visitors.

Kari sighed. The brunette had little clue how to begin explaining everything they had been through today.

In the deepest trenches of the sea, beyond the reach of mortal man or animal, there rested Dagomon. The ancient demon was adrift in the worlds that his memories encompassed.

Theirs was not a normal love story, Dagomon idly decided an avenue of thought worth exploring. It was saturated in multidimensional hogwash that was nigh-incomprehensible even for someone with as much practical experience in it as he did.

Hikari's reincarnation cycle was only one thing among many he struggled to fathom during the periods when he relinquished part of his intellect either from intellectual curiousity or just because he could: An everlasting paradox that was, a transition from human to god to human to god, a wheel set in motion by interdimensional forces he wouldn't be ashamed to admit eluded his understanding.

He liked sleep, another part of his mind put in. Perhaps another century of it would be good to relax himself with. Now that he thought of it, that was a non-sequitur, wasn't it? First he pondered great multidimensional mysteries, then he pondered sleep. Yes, he believed that it met the definition of a non-sequitur. What else ought he ponder?

In his mind, he heard Ythogthamon call out to him from beyond the Dark Ocean, asking peevishly to be allowed to exist. Dagomon tuned him out; a few centuries more in the superposition cell would hopefully teach the lad that declaring time wars on his sister was a bad idea. He meant, really, subjecting one's sibling to the horrors of war was bad enough, but it was worse still to make said war into one that broke all the laws of nature as an afterthought.

Once again, he chided himself, he had failed to think coherently. Focusing further inwards, several memories played before him in his mindscape.

In one vision of the past, Kari and Ken were facing a NeoMyotismon in a dreary wasteland. All three watched while Angewomon and Dinobeemon DNA Digivolved into Magnadramon.

In one vision of the past, Hikari was in a bar in some region of what had once been Barbamon's Hell, holding swords in all four arms, alone against a horde of demons.

In one vision of the past, Kari was wandering through the Dark Area as one of the adventures she'd had in her adulthood with Magnadramon and himself in his GranDracmon form, as company in the search for her son. In the present, Dagomon recalled hesitantly the apocalypse the woman had unleashed that day.

In one vision of the past, he was at war with a Kari who had learned to tap into the deepest powers of the Crest of Light.

In one vision of the past, he and Hikari were roaming the vast void of space, silently bathing in the burning light of a green sun.

Beyond these five memories, he dimly recalled thousands of memories; of days they had spent apart and of days they had been together. He halted his thinking, taking a moment to savor the warmth of her soul and love and Light that filled his being, extending from the furthest vaguest edges of his soul to the deepest hidden parts of him, and further, into the parts of them that were melded together.

Which memory-world ought he to enter first? Truth be told, none of them truly struck his fancy. Dismissing the thoughts, he began to swim. It took him a moment to maneuver out of the cave and almost twenty minutes to swim up from the trench.

Now, the waters around him were clear enough that he could see.

Thousands of featureless houses of stone, if not in fact millions of them, littered the ocean floor; their size seemed to change from one house to the next, as did their color. In the streets between and in the aquatic skies too, many Deep Ones swam around. Dagomon observed that some of them seemed to do so leisurely, while others seemed to have a purpose in mind; others still merely frolicked in the freedom of movement the sea gave them.

In many places, temples and towers, and monuments to the gods, stood proudly over the cityscape, possessing of a certain presence all their own. A vast distance away from the coast, Dagomon observed the arena, and wondered how many Deep Ones had paid it a visit today.

Dagomon gazed, nostalgically, over his kingdom. No matter how many times he admired it, the next time always seemed to bare greater wonders somewhere. It and Kari were alike in that regard. Perhaps that would make a fine way to spend the today: He could not remember the last time he had just gone exploring in his own realm.

Said flock of Deep Ones around quickly noticed their God's presence. A single one of them decided to go talk to him.

Dagomon felt a hand poking on his shoulder, and turned around. He was met with a single Deep One that was even larger than he was.

In the distance, several Deep Ones regarded the gigantic pair with varying degrees of fascination.

"My lord," began the Deep One behemoth, in quiet awed tones. He so wished that his master would have a mission for him; life in R'Lyeh could be dreadfully dull. "Might I be so free as to ask what brings you to R'Lyeh today?"

Dagomon gazed briefly at the Deep One. He wondered what to tell the creature. "I suppose it is merely that a fit of restlessnesss has gotten the best of me."

The Deep One, remaining still, stared with mild curiousity. Though he had no desire to question or - Hikari forbid - mock his lord, that seemed quite mundane an emotion for a deity, not worthy of one such as him in the slightest. It was an odd yet amusing thought: Perhaps the Great Old Ones were growing old and weary.

On a beach where the air was chilly, there stood four people gathered.

One was the Digidestined of Light, Kari Kamiya. She took a quick look around, taking in the grayed colors of reality. It made her a bit uneasy to be here, in a world of pure darkness, but she bit that down.

One was another Digidestined, Yolei Inoue. She swallowed glumly, hoping with all her heart that Kari was right about which side Dagomon was on. She didn't want to think about the alternative.

One was Silphymon. Both minds watched Dagomon intently, prepared to attack if necessary.

One was the Dark Sun God of the Dark Ocean, that who inspected them, pleased though a bit surprised to see that particular reality's Kari back after these few weeks. In their minds, he and his bride were focused moreso than the radiant energies Kari was emanating without even realizing it.

"I've been thinking for a while," Kari addressed Dagomon calmly. "And before I make any decisions, I've still got a few questions, so, yeah..."

The dark deity watched her, motionless. "Very well, what is your first question?"

"I was wondering, the whole thing about me being someone's reincarnation," Kari said. "To be honest, I didn't really get one-hundred-percent how it was supposed to fit together, so could you explain it again? The whole story, a bit slower and longer this time."

"He can," said a voice both identical to Kari's yet much more cold and flat from behind them. When the Digidestined turned around, they saw someone with Kari's face, taller than Kari was and dressed in yellow robes, address them. "And I can also."

"Okay, who're you!?" exclaimed Yolei, quickly adjusting her glasses just to be on the safe side.

"I am Hikari, the Light of the Dark Ocean and queen of all its people," she explained in a tone that did not encourage further conversation.

Shock showed on the trio's faces. "But, Dagomon said you were dead," Silphymon questioned, and turned to Dagomon. "Explain that!"

Hikari calmly strode to the aquatic Ultimate's side, and turned to regard the three aliens.

"I did not lie," spoke Dagomon. "The tale concerning her cycle of reincarnation merely has factors of complexity attached that I left out when I first explained it to you."

Dagomon and Hikari exchanged thoughts about how to convey the tale. Their vacant eyes rested on the still-perplexed extradimensionals.

"Rather than telling you, I can simply transfer the information to your minds," Dagomon suggested.

"Like you can do that," Yolei countered. A moment later, she added, "can you?"

Dagomon gazed smugly at her. "In this realm, nothing is beyond my power, only my imagination."

Kari mulled it over, deciding it probably not the best idea to let him inside her head, even if he wasn't actually a bad guy. "Telling the story would be fine."

Dagomon and Hikari didn't even make the smallest of reactions.

"As you wish," answered the queen in yellow after a pause. "I am not certain what additional information there might be imparted. It began hundreds of years ago, as Dagomon has already told you, when we pooled our power to conjure a cosmic egg from which a new dimension will be born someday, just as Digimon come from eggs."

They received no great response from the Digidestined.

"On many occasion," Dagomon continued, "the celestial forces we unleashed has proven to be our greater and our undoing; so it happens that occasionally, either of us would perish. What little remained of our souls was scattered across many of the worlds of the multiverse. Afterwards, the other ensured that we were restored to our current glory, however long it would take."

A momentary silence reigned while they processed that part.

"So, it's happened before?" Yolei wondered.

"Yes," said Hikari. She and Dagomon conferred mentally about whether it was wise to reveal the full ramifications of the reincarnation cycle, what that one event meant for all her timelines. She was still young, by human standards, reasoned the Lady of Light. Perhaps refraining would be preferable, for the sake of their peace of mind. "In a never-ending cycle, I become her and she becomes me."

To the Digidestined, they just appeared pensive.

"How many lives have I lived?" Kari murmured.

Dagomon gazed questioningly at her. "More than I can count, over the course of more eons than I can remember. In them all, I have watched over you to ensure your survival until the day you would return. Our fates are intertwined, you see, just as your fate is tied to those of your friends and family. We are tethered to one another across every reality, Kari, so now I will ask you again: Do you wish to become a deity once more, to experience every wonder the multiverse contains, to traverse infinity and eternity until you are sated?"

Kari breathed tensely. The others watched her expectantly. Finally, the Digidestined of Light answered. "No, I'm sorry, but no, Dagomon. It sounds great, definitely, but I think I'll rather stay with my friends in the real world."

Dagomon understood. He gave a brief nod. He was one being, her friends were many; regardless of how the matter was considered, their importance was greater. Besides, as a god he had a standard of behavior to live up to; breaking into a frothing jealous rage over being told no was unbecoming of him.

He seemed to smile vaguely. "Of course. You have worlds to save, after all. Go on home and be happy, Kari. Know that you will always be welcome in this realm, that the doorway to godhood will forever be open to you."

Kari bowed in gratitude.

"I've got a question too," the feline half of Silphymon piped up, pointing to his right leg. The pair spotted there a pair of golden rings. "If you really aren't as bad as most dark Digimon, how come you haven't given me my tail ring back yet?"

Dagomon and Hikari glanced at his two Holy Rings. The Dark Sun God looked neutrally to the avian creature. "I did not give one of my Holy Rings to you because these two belongs to me. If you have indeed lost yours, you have my sympathy, but only that."

Silphymon sighed.

"Now, assuming your questions have been answered, I believe it is best that you return to your reality," Hikari addressed them. "I mean no disrespect, but all this conversation is wearying to me."

She raised her hand while her mind toiled away on mentally defining the reality coordinates of the area. With a thought, she rewrote the dimensional coordinates of the area between them.

Faster than they could follow, a tear in space that was aglow with lavender light appeared from nothingness.

Hikari spotted the shock on their faces. "It is merely one gift shared by all the Crests and others as well. We call it Reality Walking. The gateway ought to bring you home to your native region of spacetime."

Chapter Text

The World of Darkness: Where did one begin scratching the surface of this stuff? A history lesson was, perhaps, not out of order.

Over the long course of millennia, everything had changed, and many times so. At its height, a hundred worlds and more had been under the rule of the archfiend called Ogudomon, the very embodiment of sin. Each of the territories it governed were without end, and so were the armies it commanded on each plane of existence. Ogudomon's wars were without end, and each day that it lived brought forth new foes to be vanquished, new rivals hungering for the throne.

Those terrible times were long over, ended in a single day and night of good fortune (or so felt most), and in the ages since, different kinds of demons had risen to power across those worlds. As time trudged on, even these archfiends and eldritch titans had fallen, bested by other powers greater and/or more numerous than their own, through open war and shock tactics or through subtle plotting and deceit. On many an occasion, they took their own dominions down with them.

By the time of the modern age of the World of Darkness, only five of these hell dimensions remained to be a menace to the other four, a fraction of what they had been. The multiverse next door lived in blissful ignorance of everything that went down around these parts, except for when it actually became their problem.

On the current day alone, the World of Darkness was rife with activity and life. Of course, one would reasonably except that to hold true.

Across the whole of Lady Lilithmon's realm of the Dark Area, her personal elite - the Dark Digidestined - were scattered. Some were away on missions, some merely enjoyed to travel, a few of their gang lingered in the citadel and were busily engaging in unchaste fun with their Demon Lord. Outside, on their look-out, were only four of them to stand guard. Only four were needed. Those four were Sarah, UlforceVeedramon, the Warrior of Wood in his Petaldramon body, and Plutomon.

Elsewhere, deep within a mountain range over in the Cthyllaverse dimension, the Guardian of the Nature Spirits was keeping himself occupied for the day. It was to be seen that he watched six of his charges, Renamons all and of both genders, from a distance. The foxes ran around the meadow, and conducted a sparring match against one of their own, who had achieved a Digivolution to the Champion level, which for him was an ExVeemon.

In a wasteland several continents away from where JagerDorulumon was training the young Renamons, an Seraphimon X8 and a GrandGeneramon were staring down at a single woman. That woman was the one designated as the Guardian of the Nightmare Soldiers. Her name was Mervamon. Her weapons were a gargantuan sword and a cybernetic arm. She was not a happy camper right now.

Far away from them both, another of the Guardians, a giant fish with a head of pure metal, was swimming leisurely through the undersea world. All around were countless wonders, some of whom would be difficult to replicate on the surface, and others who were just impossible out of the water. Marine life had spread virtually everywhere the Guardian of the Deep Savers could see. He found it pleasing that their world thrived so.

On another of its planes of existence, one that was dubbed the Dark Ocean, beneath the murky sea's surface, innumerable Deep Ones found ways to spend their time. In a cave far away from the city of R'lyeh, deep beneath, the rulers of the realm found solace in being eternally, inextricably, tangled together in the other's mind and soul as one metaphysical mess. There, they pondered everything that crossed their minds, from the greatest of existential mysteries, to mere trivialities. Their realm, and everything that existed beyond it, lived and moved on and were generally active, without them.

Across three of the Dark Area's circles, the Lords of Wrath and Greed and Envy occupied themselves with errands of their own - one raced across a wasteland on the Behemoth, gazing towards the horizon; one was deploying a squadron of ten-thousand-or-so soldiers against his latest foe; one was embroiled in a war, an archfiend against an army.

Oh wait a minute, now something was indeed happening. That something might well prove to be the next great upheaval of the World of Darkness.

Norn gazed, in the direction she thought would've been forward in normal space. What she saw redefined nothingness in her mental dictionary. She saw nothing exist, nothing happen. It only made sense in its own way. Here, reality was subject to no spatial dimensions. Here, there was no directions and no colors, not even blank white or empty dark, nothing that she could recognize as being either. She almost struggled to process her surroundings.

The majority of lifeforms the neophyte goddess knew about thrived in normal spacetime, in three dimensions of space and one dimension of time. This particular plane of existence existed without those dimensions, and was happy to do so, of that Norn was certain. It existed outside the ordinary structure of creation.

It then occurred to her that her body was gone. She didn't like that, but it made sense to her. The mind was a thing without substance. Perhaps, it was therefore able to make the journey to beyond the material realms where the body wasn't.

Somewhere else, perhaps exactly where she was, if 'where' meant anything now, she saw the things that existed in this realm, drifting in this higher world sea.

A collection of spheres, all of the same size but of three different designs, in a hexagonal lattice. One type was star-littered and colored as black as the night itself. One type of orb was similarly dark-hued, but completely blank, and releasing an almost sinister violet glow. One type of orb was purely colored white, and shone radiant gold.

Each and every one of the spheres, regardless of its appearance, found itself surrounded by six other spheres. She intuited what they were called, under one system of reality classification: Hell Dimensions and Heaven Dimensions, though the majority of what laid within her field of vision were neutral realms, not falling on the side of either extreme.

She wasn't certain where that scrap of knowledge had come from. Perhaps her new state of being came with greater awareness of such, or perhaps this strange realm itself had shared that with her, speculated Norn. Perhaps the truth was different still.

She then intuited what these words meant.

Hell Dimensions were terrible things, and any Hell Dimension could be its own manner of horrific. 'Hell' was, after all, a broad concept.

Heaven Dimensions were the other side of that coin, utopian domains where all was well, or as close to that ideal as possible, lands of peace and harmony.

Dismissing the thought, Norn inspected the realityscape again. She wondered, awed by the sheer scale of it, how much beauty and wonder there waited across the multiverse for her to explore.

She knew from her goddess studies that every universe was a self-contained infinity and eternity, barring some conditions or cause to make it otherwise. Once a universe was created, it would be no end for it.

The neophyte deity focused on one of the spheres, one of the neutral planes, and felt herself be moved closer toward that particular sphere. Soon, she could peer into that reality, as if viewing it on a screen, and was disoriented by what she beheld within. She quickly shook off the transitory shock, and gazed upon the celestial domain before her.

As far as she could see, there was empty space. In the great void, various planets drifted with only the stars as company. The further she gazed into the void, the more wondrous things she glimpsed. It was like a cosmic rainbow, Norn marveled. Every kind of color filled the void, cast out into infinity by the burning stars around. In the background, there was a million points of light. Beyond each of those, Norn was certain there was a billion more stars to illuminate everything, and a trillion more behind every one of those.

She had never before realized how small she was, even as a goddess, compared to all of this. Sated, she shifted her focus away from it. The interstellar panorama became the hexagonal display again, the transition faster than she could follow.

Resuming her gazing, losing herself in it, her sense of time dimming, Norn's attention wandered towards the Digital Worlds and all their people.

One plane of existence showed her a single planet, one upon whose lands and in whose seas and through whose skies thrived Digimon of virtually every kind. In some meadow, Ranamon was facing a Greymon and GeoGreymon in battle.

Another world featured a red-haired human child, who Norn studied briefly and speculated to be a boy, accompanied by a Renamon. Both were sitting on a bench in a train station, somewhere in a world inhabited by the human race.

In two other universes, Norn saw the same scene play out, each time differently so.

In the one, it was a pair of children, violet-haired and maroon-haired, who sent an Imperialdramon into battle against an Armageddemon, only to fail and then be empowered by an Omnimon, to Digivolve into Paladin Mode.

In the other, it was a different pair of children, the maroon-haired child gone and a lime-haired child in his/her place. They sent an UlforceVeedramon into battle, to meet the same fate and receive the same gift of power, and then Digivolve into UlforceVeedramon Future Mode.

Norn understood little, of who these people were, or why they had been in conflict, but it appeared to her to have been the same eternal story. Good versus Evil, the light versus the night.

She shifted her attention to another universe. In a part of its Digital World, she saw a single meadow. On it, she saw two humans, brown-haired young women, identical in appearance but not so in their outfits. With them was a pair of Gatomon, the rings on their tails bright in the sunlight. The humans raised their Digivices, a model unknown to Norn, and the cats changed to their Mega level bodies - Magnadramon and Ophanimon. Together, they charged into battle against the approaching demon horde. Norn watched flame and thunder descend, called down from the heavens by the divine dragon, while the angel unleashed wave after wave of energized crystals. The Nightmare Soldiers went down in droves, but their forces seemed unending.

Norn quickly tired of the show.

Another reality's Digital World showed her a human woman and a BanchoLillymon wandering through a forest together. Further gazing told Norn that the woman was called Sarah, but she observed nothing else; not why they were there, exactly, or what they sought.

In three realities, she observed a Diaboromon swarm skitter about in some space. They surrounded their foes in every direction. She observed the merging of a WarGreymon and MetalGarurumon into Omnimon, in the company of these she inferred to be its Tamers. She observed the merging of a Rosemon and Phoenixmon into a Ceresmon, strangely enough, for that particular evolutionary instance was unknown to her, and their Tamers joining them. She observed a Vikemon and a HerculesKabuterimon DNA Digivolve into an Aegisdramon, and their Tamers arriving, which was another evolutionary combination she had never seen before. It was with remarkable ease that all three DNA Digivolved Megas disposed of their foes.

Norn pondered nervously who to root for. Sure, there was a prevalent instinct among Viruses and Nightmare Soldiers to be evil, but it wasn't universally true. At the very least, she noted that these Tamers and their DNA Digivolved partners were willing to be ruthless in battle, which could mean they were the villains in those scenarios. She decided that she knew too little to draw conclusions about any part of it.

Eventually, after much peering and probing spotted something that got her undivided attention. Five of the purple and black orbs were floating far above the dimension-sea.

With her mind, she reached out, commanding them to reveal their secrets with as much authority as she could muster up. A series of images began to race through her mind.

She glimpsed an empire, scattered across the depths of a shadow-sea. In every direction, there was buildings and monuments to see. Shadowy creatures, all of the humanoid shape but of wildly different sizes, swam around, doing everything they desired. She intuited the name of the realm - Dark Ocean - and sensed that that particular universe hosted a vastly powerful shadow.

She glimpsed a universe divided into seven layers. On each, there was continents and oceans aplenty. On each, she caught glimpses of the infernal legion called Nightmare Soldiers, hundreds of specimens of the thousands of kinds that there existed. Once again, she intuited the name that this reality had been assigned - Dark Area.

Confusion rose in her. The Dark Area wasn't an alternate reality, it was supposed to be a region of the Digital World, a commonality between Digital Worlds. She peered deeper into this other Dark Area.

In one of its layers, in the ruins of a village, she saw an army of Mummymon and LadyDevimon. Their foe, she recognized as Daemon. Their battlefield was on fire, and the Lord of Wrath howled in gleeful laughter.

On another, she observed something that made her feel very uncomfortable. Inside the castle and mountain was a room that resembled a tropical beach zone, complete with its own sun. Around, people were scattered, doing… Norn preferred to think of it as 'making love'. An Angewomon and Sakuyamon, a Rosemon atop a MagnaAngemon, humans unfamiliar to her reveling in the unchaste actions in every gender combination she could think of. Flustered and bewildered, she withdrew, embarrassed over what she had done to them, to become a voyeur. It was an accident, she didn't mean to, she wanted to tell them.

She waited a moment, to relax, before examining another region of the Dark Area.

Within the Dark Area, she saw entire continents inhabited by Sistermons; both the Noir and Blanc forms, and the Awaken forms of those species. She saw temples and statues, all devoted to Lucemon. A small city drew her attention, for there, several hundred of them were seemingly trying to kill a Murmukusmon, for reasons unclear to her. They said nothing, except the occasional declaration of their attacks, despite her attempts to get an explanation for their actions from them.

Norn gazed over a continent on a distinct layer. Over one million Digimon and places, she looked at. Only two, a Dagomon and something that was gigantic and very strange-looking (she heard the name, Mother Eater, from somewhere), looked back at her. Her surprise was great, but brief.

Of those two, the Dagomon vanished from its spot in the valley, and came to where she was. The tentacled Ultimate manifested before her gaze in the multidimensional plane, surveying the area briefly.

"Hello," he greeted leisurely, in a voice whose pitch seemed to have a thousand different layers, to the incorporeal Norn. "This is quite unexpected. I did not believe that someone could become multidimensional unaided. I would like to know your name, intriguing one."

Norn would have blinked, she thought, if she still had her body. She bemoaned her incorporeality, She quickly found 'multidimensional' in her mind's dictionary, and became more confused as to how it was relevant. Being 'multidimensional' didn't really mean much. Everything in the Digital World was multidimensional by fact of existing in three dimensions.

'I, I am Lady Norn,' conveyed the disembodied consciousness to Dagomon. A look of dawning comprehension formed on the aquatic demon's face. "But I may, I don't understand what you mean with me being multidimensional. I was before, going by the definition of the word."

Dagomon almost looked amused, thought Norn. "Ah, but I do not use the proper definition of the word, I admit. What I mean by multidimensional is a being like myself and Hikari, who has become able to perceive multiple dimensions, parallel universes, and interact with them simultaneously."

Norn considered that. It wasn't what the word meant, but there wasn't much point in arguing semantics. It certainly wouldn't add anything useful to the conversation.

"But I happen to have a question as well," Dagomon interrupted her thoughts. "Why precisely have you discarded your physical form in coming to this plane?"

Norn was briefly befuddled by what he meant before it fully dawned on her that Dagomon was physically present.

'I honestly wonder more why you still have yours,' Norn thought. Those thoughts carried as clearly as his spoken words in this region of space.

Dagomon pondered it briefly, remaining physically unexpressive. "Well, I suppose it is one of this realm's mysteries. Nor I or Hikari have ever experienced any loss of physicality in coming here, though."

There had to be some reason for the distinction between her and them, Norn was certain, but not of what it was. With a mental sigh, she dismissed the thought.

Somehow, the loss of her body both scared and saddened her. It had been with her since Yggdrasill isolated the part of him that would become her, in all her life since then. Creating a perfect match would be simple, but it wouldn't be the same body as the one she liked, the one that had been called Norn Mikihara.

"Now then, Norn," Dagomon went on, "I know now who you are, but not yet what. What manner of creature are you?"

Norn debated whether to tell him who her progenitor was. The reason Barbamon had imprisoned her was because he knew what she was, and she had no real reason to trust this stranger any more than the Demon Lord. It wasn't a nice thought, but she preferred to be cautious.

She recognized only dimly that her thoughts were no longer contained to her mind, but present for Dagomon to hear. 'I… would rather not say,' Norn told Dagomon.

"Hmmm?" hmmmed the Dark Sun God. "Well, if that is so, I certainly wish you all the luck in the world in keeping this secret of yours."

Norn made no answer. She began pondering, losing herself in thought.

Eventually, Dagomon spoke up, glancing at the hexagonal display. "Quite a remarkable thing, isn't it?"

Norn thought he referred to the panoply of orbs and the things going on inside them. "I suppose, but to be honest, I'm not sure what it is."

"It is the multiverse," disclosed Dagomon, surprising Norn greatly. "Rather, it is one way of looking at it."

The multiverse, echoed from Norn's mind into the area. It made some sense, she found. She had seen a few alternate realities in her studies, and learnt about some others. The idea that there existed universes beyond those she knew about was far from far-fetched. Perhaps she had only just begun scratching the surface of that field of study.

Dagomon listened to her uncontained thoughts, and found her ever more interesting. That she was a multidimensional being like himself and Hikari made her unspeakably valuable for the multiverse.

"I and Hikari come here occasionally," Dagomon disclosed matter-of-factly. "We generally spend our time here on watching what the Digidestined get up to. They have so many adventures to watch."

Norn was befuddled by his words, particularly the 'digidestined' term. 'Who are these 'digidestined' you mention?'

Dagomon arched a non-existent eyebrow. "You are less aware of interdimensional matters than I would expect from a multidimensional entity. I mean no disrespect, but it is puzzling."

Norn wasn't certain whether to feel dismayed or indignant about that.

"To answer your question," Dagomon spoke with a somewhat melodious female voice, before she could speak, "the Digidestined, a group whose name is spelled with a capital D, are the ones whom destiny revolve around. I do not know the reasons why."

"Each of the Digidestined are living thousands of lives, and in each universe, they are living a new adventure. There is scarcely multiverse enough to encompass everything they do. I would imagine that every situation we might imagine has played out across this tangled weaving of time's threads by now."

Norn's mind whirled frantically. What the Dagomon was saying was absurd and headache-inducing. Yet, they were discussing the multiverse and beings that existed in multiple universes at once. Roll with it, she thought. The more knowledge she could gather, the better she could carry out her goddess responsibilities.

'If you know who these Digidestined are,' Norn's thoughts reverberated through the strange realm, 'I'll really like to know that.'

Dagomon deliberated momentarily. "Well, I have no reservations against imparting that information, but I would like to ask you to take your material form again first. I must confess that it feels odd to converse with a formless being."

Norn began to move her astral state towards the multiverse, before realizing that she didn't actually know what universe she was from. That was probably, she thought nervously, going to make her homeward journey a bit difficult.

'I don't think I can,' answered Norn, her thoughts echoing slightly. She almost sounded pained to him. "I'm not sure what universe I'm from."

Dagomon half-wanted to laugh. "Well, in that case, I expect you would find it a difficult prospect to return. I would gladly offer my aid, but I would then need to know your nature."

It took a moment before it dawned on Norn how transparent his prying was. She was uncertain of what to make of him. She weighed her options, and eventually came to the conclusion that disclosing that was a small price to pay. The alternate would be having to search through more Digital Worlds than she knew about, without direction or means of marking her trail.

'I am from the mind of Yggdrasill,' communed Norn, in the psychic manner Dagomon was intimately familiar with. 'I was created to study the ties between Digimon and humans.'

Surprise flashed over Dagomon's face. "Yggdrasill… if I remember right, that is one of the host computers, correct?" he voiced. He sounded to Norn like he was talking to himself more than her.

Dagomon read his mental file of the Yggdrasill system - it was efficient, but a dull personage, and fairly active on the interdimensional stage. The thought nagged at him, there was something supremely crucial he needed to recall about this situation. It felt like it was pressing at the forefront of his mind, yet somehow wanting to elude him.

Then, it fell into place. He realized her coming had been awaited for ages, maybe millions of years even, by them, and with Norn's arrival, the next evolution of the Digital World could continue. "Oh, this is wonderful," the female voice from before spoke through Dagomon. "Norn, we have an offer to make you."'

Somewhat confused, Norn answered. 'Yes?'

"It would be an arduous task to locate your universe," pointed out Dagomon, in his eerie thousand-layered voice. "Therefore, we wish for you to, oh, how should I put this?... We wish for you to leave your old universe behind you, and come where we are. Come, Norn, and create worlds as we have."

Norn regarded him, stunned into silence. Then, she answered. 'I don't think that's a good idea, no offense.'

Dagomon hmmmed. The prophecy, well, not really a prophecy he corrected himself; more something he expected to occur in some region of spacetime, from all its myriad twists and turns, and worlds that might have been - it was anticipated, as they had for eons before, that someone or something would emerge from the depths of the multiverse, a multidimensional lifeform that shared all the powers that they possessed and mayhap held abilities beyond their field of understanding as well.

The legendary being would come forth and create utopian realms as he and she had created new kinds of Hell, so that the Digital World itself could evolve, and grow away from humanity. Perhaps that wasn't meant to be Norn after all, thought Dagomon. Perhaps, voiced Hikari, that event was never going to happen.

'WHAT?!' yelped Norn, her mental volume enough to drown out everything else in the area. She realized suddenly, surprised by the oddity, that what she heard from these two were not words but thoughts. Strange, thought the virtual entity, but not really weirder than anything else that had happened today. 'I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?'

Dagomon calmly pointed a tentacle towards the five roundy things that were floating apart from the greater lattice. "Can you see those five? Most disembodied people tend not to be able to see without eyes, and most that do tend to be created to be so capable. I am not certain whether you are. Hm, I have developed a habit of droning on, it would seem. Perhaps I should retain that personality trait. What do you think, Hikari?"

Hikari encouraged him to do so, with a conveyed thought.

Norn did, and wanted nothing more than to leave those universes alone. "Yes?"

"They are collectively called the World of Darkness," disclosed Dagomon flatly. "Each one is what is termed a Hell Dimension, which ought to speak volumes about them."

Norn recalled what she had learned not ten minutes earlier, and agreed with him on that.

"Currently, only five remain," disclosed the Dark Sun God. "The Dark Ocean, the Dark Area, the Cthyllaverse, Millenniummon's and Ryo's realm, Myotismon and Angewomon's realm," he recited from his mental list. "There were more of them once, long ago, almost a hundred or so. We had given hell realms to many different people and groups. In all its forms, evil reigned and grew unchecked for thousands of years."

Norn felt disturbed. The death, the suffering, the travesties, it was unimaginable. 'Why? Why would you do that?'

Dagomon looked pensive. "With the intent of furthering the Digital World's evolution, as one of my ongoing projects," he answered finally. Part of him thought, bold-faced lie. His current persona did not need reasons for actions. It was at best an incidental truth. He wondered if Norn would notice he was making this all up. Hikari would.

"I am certain you are aware that the Digital Worlds are stored within the computer networks," Dagomon exposited. "This status quo endangered our kind, our worlds, perilously. It must be amended. It is not enough that we evolve, the Digital World must also. The solution I have reached is the creation of new Digital Worlds, ones without any connection to the earths, ones that can exist as their own independent universes," Dagomon finished the sentence. "We would like it if you would aid us in this endeavor."

Dumbstruck, Norn wondered what to answer. What was prudent to say and ask and do in this weird situation? 'What, you mean you want me to help you make more of them? Why would you need me for that?'

"It is not a matter of necessity," the Dagomon told her, after a momentary pause. "We have reached the conclusion that it would be preferable to involve an outside party, a fellow multidimensional being, in the construction process, in order to avoid... shall we say, questionable decisions from the top echelon of the project."

Norn thought it was good reasoning. She still had a few questions, the main one being where she would find a new body. Norn liked her physical form. She liked it a lot. She wanted it back. Bodies were going for interacting with stuff.

Almost as she had completed that last bit of thought, the realityscape had reconfigured; the process had went faster than either Dagomon or Norn could see. Now, they both saw that the arrangements of the cosmoses were a cluster of rectangles, each one containing dozens of orbs and floating separately from the others.

It almost gave Norn a headache to look at. At once, their configuration was a two-dimensional shape of several panels and it was a mess of things shoved into a space smaller than what literally was physically possible.

The next half hour in meta-space went by about in the blink of an eye, and a great deal of that time had been spent on Norn asking questions about the project he called the World of Darkness. After, of course, of course, Norn had peered into the Digital Worlds of about a hundred universes in almost a dozen universe-clusters ('universe-clusters', the Dark Ocean's king and queen had informed her during her search, was their term for these things, and meant a group of timelines that unfolded along the same path in most regards), in hopes of finding either her own body or something with which to build an identical one.

Most of what she was told about made her uneasy about their creations.

She had been briefed about Lilithmon's harem and squadron of killers, the so-called Dark Digidestined brigade. They were an almost undefeatable flock of humans and Digimon, heroes from worlds across the multiverse, that Lilithmon had taken and twisted, had made into immortal size-shifting psychopaths. Norn had not been happy to find out that this Lilithmon had some of the Royal Knights and Olympians, and so many Tamers she was sure had been good people, under her thrall.

She had been briefed about Lucemon's fundamentalist church, the billion-strong hordes of Sistermons that lived to worship him and murder every other kind of Digimon in his name, their divine mandate. Over this, she had felt disturbed, and a tiny bit curious why the fallen angel only allowed so few species into his religion. Dagomon had then offered no consolation and no answer, apart from a simple shrug.

She had been briefed about the Dark Area, how it had seven layers called circles, one for each of the Lords of Sin, that gave them never-ending territories to conquer. Across the seven circles, billions of demons roamed about, across the continents, in the oceans, through the skies. This couldn't be allowed to continue, Norn had decided. As it had turned out, they agreed, but only as far as getting rid of the extra Dark Area realms.

She had been briefed about the World of Darkness that was named the Cthyllaverse; how that was a reality governed by a Digimon she'd not known about before called Cthyllamon the God of Evil, how she was served by a coalition of eight Megas called the Guardians, how the fifth level of Digivolution was called Perfect there. This Dark World, Norn had been unfazed by, and honestly found disinteresting.

She had been briefed about the world under the rule of a Millenniummon, that he reigned over a million million Digimon with his human, Ryo, as his fellow king. This too was a world she found depressing and boring.

She had been briefed about their realm, the Dark Ocean, about creatures called Deep Ones and Shademons. What they had told Norn then was that the Deep Ones were creatures transformed, from humans and Digimon, and worshipped them. About this also, Norn hadn't really cared.

She had been briefed about the Digital World enslaved by the Myotismon and Angewomon, how their hordes of Devidramons brought terror and death everywhere they could. By the time they had told her about that, she was no longer fazed by their little horror show.

Now, much was different in meta-space.

Norn was without company, and back in her physical form: A young and petite blonde girl, garbed in a white and frilly dress, designed like the 7D6 bodies the Yggdrasill system wore. With her, she carried a staff like that of a magician.

She observed that the place had changed again.

Now, it presented itself as a three-dimensional expanse, the horizons painted white. The endless number of spheres were gone, transformed or replaced (Norn wasn't sure which, this place made no sense) with hundreds of flat discs, ones that looked a tad bigger than that they could fit into the palm of her hand. The disks floated motionlessly in the pale-white void, arranged into stacks.

It defied all logic, she thought, pouting because of it. Whatever principles of geometry this reality abided by, they somehow allowed for infinite regions to be projected with finite sizes. She decided eventually to not strain her noggin with trying to decipher the workings of this form of space.

She gazed over the various piles of discs, faintly recalling the 'universe-cluster' name the Dark Ocean's gods had used, wondering how much exciting stuff there was going on in the universes. There had to be a ton of fun and adventure, of that Norn felt certain.

Beaming, she gazed to the multiversal infinitude before catching herself. Now was not a time for dithering about. The evolution of the Digital World needed something else than evil without end, it needed defenders, just, kind and noble.

Quick question, Norn wondered, absently letting her eyes trail over the oval realities. Who would be good? What kind of realms would help in this situation? Whoever she wanted to choose, they should be as far evolved as the Mega level, if ever they needed to battle the Demon Lords. The Celestials, Ancients and Knights came to her mind first.

Quickly deciding on tentative choices, Norn began searching through the realms of the Digital World. It was quickly found, and more quickly stepped into. The experience was strange, almost disorienting.

At once, she was seeing through two perspectives - from the outside of the universe, she was seeing herself and the forest around her, whereas, inside normal spacetime, she saw trees tower over her form and a clearing leading out of the forest. She felt every bit of sensory input that the sunlit windy forest had to offer and the insensate atmosphere of meta-space.

It took a moment for Norn to adjust to all of that, and to coordinate both bodies - her way out of the forest had mostly been her falling over a lot, and walking in random directions. It took her slightly longer to introduce herself to that universe's Celestial Digimon, and arrange a private meeting with them, and explain her errand. It took Norn little time or effort to persuade them - she was their God, though much changed. It took a good deal more time to relocate the three of them and the hundreds of others who wanted to come along to one of Norn's two worlds.

Norn's normal-spacetime-body had departed with a new companion, other than the three she had expected - Susanoomon, the Warrior of Heaven, composite form of every elemental Spirit. Her search had gone on after that, for a good while. She beheld a number of Digital Worlds, ones both very familiar and less so.

Locating the Ancients of another world, where they called themselves the Digimon Sovereign, was done quickly, as was her and Susanoomon's trip to their land. On this occasion, Norn had been refused after introducing them and explained their intention, because the Sovereign had been content with how things currently were. Seeing no reason to belabor the point, Norn and Susanoomon left.

It took her three searchings more to find a world where these four existed. For Susanoomon, it translated to seeing Norn space out for the whole of a minute. The Ancients, or Harmonious Ones, of that Digital World, likewise refused her. It was on their fourth visited universe that Norn found, that they met versions of the Ancients who were willing to work with her. Here, the relocation took place immediately and only for them, for those four were their world's last survivors.

Norn gazed almost plaintively, and reached out for the World of Darkness. The nightmare gallery fit readily into her hand. Peering into the Dark Ocean, she was a bit surprised to find Hikari standing on the beach, gazing out over the sea.

Not a long while later had there begun another meeting.

Around a table, there were nine individuals; Hikari, Norn, Susanoomon, the Great Demon Lords save Belphemon. Most of them were seated, save Leviamon, who stood instead. For the most part, they carried themselves with aloof poise, save Norn who was tense and nervous about being among the devils themselves. Susanoomon glared openly at Lucemon, who raised an eyebrow in response. Around the table were bookshelves, well-stocked, and leaving only two exits.

"Lady Hikari," Leviamon's voice was a humorless leonine snarl, "I see you have brought company with you today. Care to explain why you have called for this conference?"

The Dark Ocean queen looked to him, virtually motionless. A small, coal-black, spiky ball began to come out of her forehead. Only Norn and Susanoomon seemed to find that odd, as both blinked a few times, or worth reacting to. The assembly of archfiends thought nothing of it. Daemon recognized it as a Dark Spore.

"My visit concerns Lucemon's demand from several months ago that the other hell realms be destroyed," clarified the inhuman brunette. "I am here to conclude that desire of his, by making the seven realms of the Dark Area into one shared by all seven."

Lucemon rose from his seat, face awash with anger. "UNACCEPTABLE! By the order of the Demon Lord collective, I demand that you refrain from this."

Ignoring him completely, Hikari sent the thought into the idea-device. It began to expand rapidly, heedless of Lucemon's and Daemon's sputtered objections. In much less than a minute's time, it had grown so big that it was bigger than their conference room. The Dark Spore had passed through its surroundings as though it had lacked substance.

"I expect that there will be oceans in this new world?" Leviamon asked calmly. He could not care less for the mad experiments and multidimensional nonsense that the self-named 'Dark Sun God' and his love indulged in so often. He had his empire, and that was everything he wanted to bother with. "Provided it is so, I would make it known that the Lord of Envy has no interest in backing this one of Lucemon's demands."

Hikari answered in the positive.

"I would like to add," seconded Lilithmon smugly, consummately ignoring Lucemon's murderous scowling, "that I really don't care about this decision. That being said, I trust that no member of my social circle is immediately endangered? Because if so," her voice turned low and threatening, "that will be a problem for you and Lord GranDracmon in the very near future."

Hikari regarded her stonily. The device would spread its power into all seven circles. Everything that was in the same places but in different demon realms would suffer mutually assured destruction. The Dark Area had no spatial boundaries, so the brunette imagined there might be millions of deaths to come. "I do not expect that will be the case."

Lucemon scowled. Outside Lilithmon's citadel, the field released by the Dark Spore continued steadily, at its own leaisurely pace.

What had been beyond her castle were left a single forest, hundred of metres tall in places, seemingly without end in any cardinal direction, in the wake of the dark energy-wave. From atop her fortress, the ones of Lilithmon's odalisques who currently worked guard duty were stunned to see their world change. They were quickly called to attention, by the emergence of three Ornismons. RaptorSparrowmon charged towards them, while Omnimon unsheathed his sword.

Further and further, went the activated thought-device. To the west, the land gave way to an ocean plucked from Belphemon's realm, and rather a large one it was. From all seven demon realms, Nightmare Soldiers suddenly found themselves above this body of water, and that the land-masses they had previously lived on to be gone. Few of them had time to ponder.

The ones among them who were neither able to fly or levitate under their own power nor able to survive in the water, and additionally had the presence of mind to save themselves - well, they quickly met their next demises and reconfigurations. The weaker ones died upon hitting the water, the more resilient lived past that only to drown. It was almost the smallest fraction among these tens of thousands who reached the surface again.

Everywhere in the Dark Area that it reached to, the Dark Spore wormed its influence over space. Eleven continents away, a verdant archipelago was left behind to a west coast. On one of the islands rested a single temple devoted to Lord Belphemon, populated by many demons bowed down in worship to him. Another island, UlforceVeedramon and Rina the Dark Digidestined was on. On another island, one of Lucemon's churces had appeared, with several thousand of his morally depraved Sistermon acolytes in it.

On LadyDevimon Island - a place far south from Lilithmon's Citadel - Chiaki and Koji, the Warriors of Water and Light, were given pause amid their contemplations by the impending dark wave. Neither panicked or ran. They were consumed. They soon found themselves in a wasteland, with an irate NeoMyotismon for company. A fight soon broke out there.

Somewhen later, who really knew when, Norn and Susanoomon were gone from the once-more-unified Dark Area.

Beneath clear azure sky, far above emerald meadows, there floated a landscape and a city, founded on a dome of stone. Across the paradisiacal landscape were hundreds, all beings of purest sanctity. Both angels and bearers of Holy Rings found a home in this place, as did the Celestials.

From a balcony, Norn and Susanoomon gazed over this one of the Sacred Cities, enjoying the quietude.

"Susanoomon?" voiced Norn, suddenly.

The Warrior of Heaven jerked their head at her, gazing curiously at the petite blonde goddess. A part of Susanoomon that felt rather like the Light Warriors recalled she was hir Tamer. The Steel Warriors part of hir found it an odd notion. "Yes?" asked ten voices as one, with a shared emotion of curiosity.

"I think it's time we left," Norn answered without looking at the genderless Legendary Warrior.

Susanoomon knew her meaning. Norn had made these two worlds into paradise; their task was now to live in them, and ensure they remained as close to perfect as would be possible. "We have a long journey, my venerable Tamer," said several of Susanoomon's voices. "Where are we headed?"

Norn looked pensive. There were seven Digital Worlds across the World of Darkness, and most were its own kind of hell. There were many places, more than she thought anyone could ever count, where they might be able to help. "Away from here, Susanoomon, down the endless road called life."

Chapter Text

Yggdrasill took a big huff, then lowered the blunt. The eye-piece glowed unsteadily, a scratchingly-sharp red color. "No, but like, dude, these humans are total assholes. They invaded me, deleted a load of my friends, then this one guy punched me."

The D-Reaper snorted. "Tell me about it, chumbuddy. Get a load of this: They reconfigured me with a black hole, so now, my program barely has a few kilobytes left."

There was an obvious disconnect there, but as it happened, a hella stoned AI had only so much processing power available. Yggdrasill didn't notice, or if it did, said nothing. "Yeah, well, one of my Royal Knights once skewered me. Imagine my headache!" hollered the intoxicated host computer. What a novelty.

"The Digimon Sovereigns yanked me back into the Digital World so they could burn me, electrocute me, drown me, and maul me, and loads of other torture-methods," countered the D-Reaper. The rampant AI paused between each word, to take a puff on its stick of weed.

"Omnimon X killed me," shouted Yggdrasill. "Trump that, dumbass!"

There was a silence. The D-Reaper shot him a chiding and disbelieving look, or as much as someone who was physically a blob of red goop infused with cosmic power, and who was mentally stoned to hell and back, could do so. Yggdrasill looked remarkably embarrassed, in spite of its face-section not being designed to express emotion. The glow of the face-screen had dimmed.

"I think I've had too much," mumbled the pothead AI. "You weren't ever supposed to know that."

"Whatever," said the D-Reaper, and took another huff.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Shoutmon?" called the sixteen-year-old gogglehead to the short vaguely-orangish-but-primarily-red dragon. "There's something I just wondered; how do you fap?"

Mikey knew that if it was him who hung out with Mervamon - the woman who had the greatest boobs he'd ever seen on anyone and wasn't embarrassed about flaunting her assets - on a regular basis, then he wouldn't be able to keep Baby Mikey under wraps.

Shoutmon looked weirdly at him. He suspected that 'fap' was a human world word. "How I what? Actually, do I even wanna know what 'fap' means?"

A somewhat uncomfortable look appeared on Mikey's face. Alarm bells went off in the short dragon's head. "Well, it's kinda an euphemism for masturbation, and I'm kinda curious: Where do you keep it?"

"Mastur-" Shoutmon began, then halted mid-word. Mikey almost expected to see a blue screen in Shoutmon's eyes, any moment now. "Mikey, seriously. I don't actually do that, I don't have a penis for God's sake!"

Mikey oohhhed. "Guess that explains why I haven't seen one on you. But, hold on, we met a Plesiomon with an egg once. If you Digimon don't reproduce sexually, where did that egg come from? Is it like in Angie's hentai games, and different species reproduce differently?"

"Yeah, sure," Shoutmon answered, openly dismissive of the question. "If you really wanna know, ask Mervamon and Beelzemon, see if they let you live..."

Mikey gave him an almost pleading look. "Forget it," denied Shoutmon, "I'm not explaining the Birdramon and the Beedramon to you. Ask anyone else, anyone!"

Mikey's pleading look didn't waver, and even intensified. "Not happening, man," refused Shoutmon, now with an air of finality.

Chapter Text

Imagine that paradise, or the closest approximation, was indeed a real and tangible place which one could visit and inhabit. How might such a place appear and function? What manner of people might reside there, and more, make it a stable society?

Some manner of answer was to be found on a different plane of existence than occupied by the planet called earth, in a universe unlike that which the vast majority of the human race (in any universe) knew of - in specific terms, in the realm within the World of Darkness that was the domain overseen by Mistress Norn, Susanoomon the Warrior of Heaven, and the Celestials.

This realm was one that human eyes might find aesthetically pleasing, in a rural sort of way - from the center of the world to the furthest corners of the lands, there reigned unspoiled nature, in all its forms.

Deep within this world, nestled comfortably in a reasonably effin' huge valley and underneath picturesque blue horizons, was another one of the Sacred Cities, the towns built by the Celestial Ones to house the angels who served in their army. This Sacred City was a particularly rural one, with fields and towering trees in abundance, and a single lake of violet water to the south-east, and not a great number of buildings.

On one of its many trails, Seraphimon stood pensively, gazing off into the western horizon. Well, the face section of his helmet was facing into that direction, anyway. He had lost himself to his thoughts.

They had lived here for months, he reflected to himself, yet all they truly knew about this reality was what they and their people had seen during occasional patrols of this continent. Seraphimon knew well the wisdom of the phrase, 'what you don't know can hurt you'.

His question was not who should be chosen to undertake this mission, the angels had done fine work in this regard. What reason had he to change a working and fruitful plan?

"Hello, Lord Seraphimon?" a female voice broke into the archangel's musings. He turned left, to see a figure of white and gold standing there.

He briefly wondered how he had not noticed her presence. "Yes, Shakkoumon, is there I might be of assistance with?"

The dogu statue shook its head, in distinctly a jerky and mechanical fashion. "No, no," she assured. "I was just curious, since I found you here about five minutes ago, why you weren't answering me."

Seraphimon hmmmed audibly. "Five minutes, truly? I must have been distracted by my pondering."

Vague curiosity seemed to creep into the gaze of the angel. "What might that be about, Lord Seraphimon?"

He supposed it was a good enough question. Perhaps he might have had a good answer. "Merely matters of state, I suppose. There is still much in this world that needs to explored by us. Incidentally, Shakkoumon, weren't you sent north a few days ago?"

"Yes, sir Seraphimon," chirped the statue. "I returned today, and a few Angemons took over in the forest."

The archangel gave a somewhat interested hmmm. "Well then, I hope that you enjoy the rest of your day."

"Thank you, thank you, lord," answered the Shakkoumon. Seraphimon gave no answer. Shakkoumon cheerfully resumed moving, while Seraphimon gazed off into the horizon.

It really ought to come as no surprise that other people were busy with other things in other parts of the world while Seraphimon was gazing at the skies, and indeed this was also the case. To be exact, a moderately large office, with walls tinged a pleasant shade of dark-red. Behind a desk constructed from very dark-brown wood, Ophanimon and Cherubimon sat.

All four of the room's walls had doors which connected to the adjacent rooms as well as to the spiraling staircase directly west of this room, and only one of these were currently open. The room was lit from above, by a lamp integrated with the ceiling. At the room's near center, there was a creature reminiscent of a homo sapien. Ten wings sprouted from his back, and over the body of an Angewomon there was the armor of a MagnaAngemon.

"Allow me to begin," spoke MagnaAngewomon. "While my stay out in the eastern mountains showed my group no evidence that there was any kind of life out there other than us angels, we did come across a strange thing, a staircase inside of a cave. We only discerned that it led upwards and downwards into dark voids, not what there might lie beyond."

Outwardly smiling, Ophanimon was briefly pensive. "Thank you, MagnaAngewomon," spoke the helmeted blonde. "Please continue."

"I have nothing much besides to report," informed the other Mega. "The absence of life and the discovery of the staircase are the extent of what your patrol uncovered. After finding it, I stationed a handful of Angemons to monitor the place and to serve to allow others to travel there."

"I see," said Cherubimon, with a flat smile. "If that is indeed everything you have to report, I will not keep you here. Your new assignment is to join the northern exploration group. Do you have any objections to refuse that?"

"No, Lord Cherubimon," mechanically replied the Mega. After a moment's silence, he began to walk, and had quickly departed the room through the west-facing door, closing it quietly behind him.

Of the pair that sat behind the desk, Ophanimon was the first to break the silence that had asserted its dominance over their office.

"Next," her voice rang out into the office, and the room visible through the northern door. In the room, a formation of chairs (large and fuzzy-exteriored ones) were positioned, in a fashion that one might call overtly methodical; in several rows of ten seats each, the whole set-up designed to be as mechanical and dull and orderly as possible.

Many of the chairs were occupied, by angels of different kinds - Angemons and D'arcmons, a handful of Angewomons and about the same number of MagnaAngemon, a ClavisAngemon and SlashAngewomon, and a Dominimon as well.

On the first chair of the first row, counted from the left, rose a D'arcmon. The four-winged angel made a brief walk, into the office, and positioned herself before her masters.

The angel made a salute. "I'll make this quick: I'll like to be stationed by the western lake."

Cherubimon looked at her, mildly curious. "Permission granted. You are free to go there at a time of your choosing within this week."

The angel nodded, pleased. With hasty strides, she exited the room through the northern door, leaving it open behind her.

Seraphimon descended quietly onto the mountain-side, and allowed himself a moment to take in the land-scape's radiant beauty.

Before his helmet's face-plate's gaze, there laid a veritable cluster of mountains. Bathed in the sun's light as they were, many of them glimmered like refined jewels. The mountain range extended as far as the arch-angel could see, and a few of them dwarfed the majority of the surrounding ones. One, in particular, caused him awe, for it reached higher than the clouds surrounding its apex.

The armored male turned his helmet mechanically, to meet a pair of Angemon, who were gathered before a cave entrance. Silently, they turned and began to walk into it, and Seraphimon followed suit. A short distance ahead, they saw it - a staircase extending from the floor into the ceiling, and further in either direction. The steps of the staircase extended dozens of metres, thin and rectangular in their given shape, attached to a slate-grey iron pole.

Their stroll to it was a brief one, quiet and dull.

The arch-angel halted before the inter-planar gateway, motionlessly observing it. Whatever he had expected, it certainly hadn't been a spiral staircase in the middle of a dark cave. Whosoever had coded this world's aesthetics and trappings most likely was an eccentric.

No matter how Seraphimon inspected it, it seemed only motionless and incapable of movement. As well, it sounded to him like nobody and nothing was currently walking the stairs. He decided it safe to divert his attention from it for a moment, and moved his helmet's face to the left where Angemon stood.

"Has there been anything to emerge from this oddity?" inquired the arch-angel to the six-winged angel, listening intently to it for signs of trouble.

"No, Lord Seraphimon," reported the Angemon, whose voice sounded distinctly male and deep. "As near as we can tell, it serves no function. If it does lead somewhere, I'm dead sure said wherever is short on people."

The archangel glanced back, regarding the staircase idly. A moment passed before the sound of footfall rent the silence in half like nobody's business. The Champion-leveled angels readied themselves for combat, while Seraphimon simply stood still.

Down the staircase stampeded a hellcat on all fours, moving so fast that they only registered a mostly brown-colored blur coming towards them. Taking note of their presences with senses honed as far as being able to process input in a fraction of a second and react almost equally quickly, it was little trouble for the Bastemon to adjust her plan.

The hellcat lunged for the armor-covered arch-angel, with intent to kill. Metal claws scraped against metal plating, releasing an ear-aching sound.

To Bastemon's mixed amusement and annoyance, that little scratch had done nothing to the creature.

"I apologize if we've startled you," said Seraphimon, arms raised in a placating gesture. "That was not our intent, we merely wish to examine this staircase and learn where it leads. Perhaps you would do us the favor of enlightening us on that?"

Bastemon looked momentarily befuddled, then settled on a mocking glare. "You must be joking. I don't exist for your convenience, whatever you are! I am of the Daemon Corps, the legions infernal, and mine is the task of slaying all those whom Lord Daemon calls his enemies! Either join us or perish like all others who resist him, it is that simple."

Seraphimon regarded her unamused, quickly casting glances at the angel pair; they were assuming fighting stances. The arch-angel had little doubt that they as Champions would be able to equal this creature's power. "And, I take it, you insist on beginning battle with us unless we join your demonic army? There is absolutely no way to resolve this situation other than the options you identify?"

Bastemon scowled, and said nothing in response.

"Very well," sighed Seraphimon. In the blink of an eye, his left arm had moved from its position of hanging limply at his side. Its movement had been even faster than the greatly experienced Bastemon could follow with her senses. The metallic fingers had wrapped around the feline's head. With a flatly-delivered declaration of 'Hallowed Knuckle', divine lightning (the sort Cherubimon specialized in) began to course from the gauntlet.

Faced with the considerable power that Seraphimon possessed even the standards set by his rank of Digivolution, Bastemon quickly found the strength she had accrued over centuries of servitude to be insufficient to weather the pain and strain dealt her for longer than a little while.

Either of the Angemon simply watched on as it unfolded, and the reconfiguration. The angel who stood closer to the Celestial smirked appreciatively of the slaughter, knowing how rare it was for Lord Seraphimon to exert his strength in full.

Barely a moment had they gotten to process that event before the sound of hurrying footfalls. Another moment later, a voice, one that Seraphimon alone recognized, called out to them from the cave ceiling. "Have you seen a Bastemon come through here?"

The trio looked up towards the hole in the ceiling and the world where the staircase exited the cave. There, high up and on a single of its steps, stood a young human-looking woman with yellow hair and white clothes who carried a staff.

Seraphimon recognized her immediately - his lady and mistress, the God whom the angelic host served and aided and followed, Norn. The youngling goddess, for her part, cast a look over the area for Bastemon, quickly noticing the bright-yellow egg that was lying before Seraphimon.

"Nevermind," Norn sheepishly corrected herself. "I'm glad to see you, Seraphimon, especially now."

The arch-angel wondered whether he ought to bow, figuring it wasn't necessary. "The pleasure is mutual, Norn," replied Seraphimon. "Hhhh... could you perhaps provide me an explanation about what precisely this staircase is and what that creature was talking about, assuming that your current situation allows time for that? The vague and senseless nature of this situation is frankly becoming an annoyance."

Norn nervously looked up. She knew full well that Susanoomon was about as powerful as possible, but the blonde still didn't want to find out if her partner had the necessary prowess to fend off an army of Nightmare Soldiers.

Then, she turned to look directly towards the seraph Digimon. "I'll return and explain when we can. Right now, I need you to call for reinforcements to help defend this area. How quickly can you arrange that?"

The seraph jerked his head to the Angemon near him. "Go, Angemon. Report this to Cherubimon and Ophanimon, bring what aid you can from the city."

Angemon was quickly to act on that order, taking flight before his run had brought him outside.

Seraphimon looked up towards Norn, who was now leaving as well, ascending the flight of steps. He felt an urge to laugh, at how oddly this entire situation had unfolded.

All that Norn heard as she headed back into the Dark Area was Seraphimon's chortling.

Chapter Text

The proverbial camera opened on a scene of a library. The shelves were moderately stocked, with books of many different colors pertaining to just as many subjects around this region of the citadel's library.

The majority of the book-cases, which were made not of wood but of the virtual metal called Chrome Digizoid, were supplied with all the books they were intended to hold. At the most, a dozen or so books were currently absent from their resting places, and in the possession of other residents in the castle.

Lilithmon sat by the book-case that formed this improvised room's left wall, seated in an fuzzy orange large-backed chair. Her arms were folded underneath her remarkable bust, and her face was drawn in a calm and appraising semi-frown. The ghost of a smirk graced her handsome face.

Beside the seated woman was one of her so-called Dark Digidestined, the one called BanchoLeomon - a bipedal lion of large stature and muscular build, whose only garments were a hat, a pair of black-colored pants, and a long-coat. He stood around, sternly watching the proceedings.

In front of the two of them, a show of a certain nature was unfolding and had for a bit already. Atop a table, Thomas laid sprawled out, with his arms folded under his chin and a face that spoke of unmistakable boredom. The blond was starkers, completely starkers. Not a shred of clothing was to be seen on his slender, yet lightly-toned, figure.

Behind the blond, there was a short line of other young men, who were all equally bare-bodied. If any of them felt perturbed about their state of undress, they showed nothing in the way of that,

Among their lot were a brown-haired young man whose name was Takato and who appeared almost twenty years of age in stature; though he was not a mountain of muscle, he was also not humorously scrawny.

Another of the men there was Davis, a tan-skinned guy with maroon hair that went as far down that the locks reached his shoulders. His junk stood straight up, between its softened and hardened states. Though he had more muscle tone on him, he was still far from being truly ripped.

The third and first of the people lined up was a man, little different from the other two in personal build, with only his brown-grey hair to truly distinguish him from them at first glance. Making a push into the blond's butt, Takuya was unable to keep a cry of delight born of his orgasm from escaping him. His entire body shuddered as he released into Thomas, a movement punctuated by the grunt that escaped him.

After a moment of resting both physically and psychically, the brunet withdrew from blond, then he turned to his mistress.

"Well, Lady Lilithmon?" the Warrior of Flame asked the Demon Lord, both amused and with a note of lingering fatigue present in his voice. "Have we satisfied your desire to watch us fornicate yet, or must we conduct a few more rounds? To tell you the truth, I would like to take a respite for myself, in either event."

Lilithmon regarded him unemotively. "Yes, perhaps a respite will do for now. This little show has lost some of its appeal."

The five naked humans began to leave. Takuya and Davis exchanged a silent look that said everything needed, and walked a different path out of the pseudo-room than the other three did. Lilithmon paid the exiting warriors little heed, focusing instead on the empty air before her eyes. The silence lingered, almost reluctant to be interrupted by their footfalls. The lion regarded her, with mild concern in his eyes.

What to do today, pondered Lilithmon? Voyeurism on men had been a transient form of entertainment. Perhaps beginning another show, with women, would entertain more? She cursed silently, and scowled; she so detested boredom.

Which women might be willing, and which of them was she in the mood for? Sora, she supposed, might make a good 'actress', or perhaps bed-mate; she could appreciate. Rina as well, she decided, if only for the contrast between ginger and lime hair. A blond would hardly hurt either; Kyouko, Relena maybe, or Alice... Rosemon was truly talented in the area, and something as rare as a Digimon with genitalia. She was certain that Mastemon could be persuaded.

A small smile rose up on her face, at the thought. "Red hair, green hair, yellow hair. What a aesthetically pleasing trinity, really," thought Lilithmon. Perhaps, there should not be a show. Perhaps taking them to her bed was a preferable alternative.

It soon returned to her that Relena was not in the citadel at the moment, that she had set out with Machinedramon and Kimeramon towards the southern regions in search of another adventure. She supposed that it mattered little; in time, those women would return here. They always did. All of them always did.

Deciding to focus on other business than contemplation, Lilithmon rose from the chair, and wandered out of the room. It took her little time and effort to navigate out of the labyrinthine library and out into the hallway.

The hallway before Lilithmon was empty of people, and its walls were a shade of grey so polished and clear that it would remind even a visitor who was disinterested in the aesthetic trappings of this place of the purest silver. On the walls, there was not grandiose amounts of decoration. All that was to look at were a series of paintings, which depicted the many residents of Lilithmon's mountain-concealed fortress.

A moderately large tube jutted from the ceiling, with only a small portion of it not buried in the ceiling, and it served to illuminate the area. The floor, by contrast, was almost entirely crafted from some metal with soft-orange coloration, in every spot, and was featureless in all other regards.

She began a walk, and managed a short distance towards the roof before she heard footsteps from behind. The dress-garbed woman turned, and saw a trio of her companions. Though still a good distance away, the two gold-armored bipeds approached steadily, with Willis at Rapidmon's left side.

Lilithmon deigned it fit to let them catch up to her; Magnamon had always been good for a verbal sparring match, and she would hardly refuse another philosophical set-to, perhaps about the nature of evil.

The trio of Dark Digidestined quickly, quietly, reached up to Lilithmon, then stopped barely three metres away. "Mistress," so spoke Rapidmon. "We have a request to make. After discussing it for most of last evening, we have come to agree that we wish to end our lives."

Undisguised surprise flashed on her face, expressed primarily through her arched left eyebrow that practically bade them to elaborate.

"It is not that we despise some facet of our lives," Willis disclosed. "Quite the contrary, we feel that we have nothing further to achieve. I and they have no interest in continuing a life without purpose. Additionally, we would like you to delete our code transcripts from the central computer so that there will not ever be another iteration of any of us to roam these halls."

Lilithmon gaped momentarily, before composing herself. "You ask much of me. Are you all certain about this? Twelve years is a pittance of an age, after all."

Rapidmon nodded in affirmation. "Will you grant us these favors?"

The Lord of Lust looked pensively at them. "Strictly speaking, granting them the second request would not be an invaluable loss. The Emissaries of Darkness are an undefeatable force even without them, but I would rather not go without their company... yes, I shall."

Without any hesitation, they began a walk in the other direction, further into the fortress. They moved along familiar surroundings that differed not at all from other parts of the corridor that spiraled through the mountain, and encountered large variously-colored doors to the left after an eighth of a rotation had been traversed, and doors on their right as well after a quarter of one.

The most activity during their silent strides down through the citadel happened when they reached the bedroom that Mervamon and Ignitemon shared, in the form of loud huffing and grunting from within. The quartet paid the siblings no heed, and simply marched by.

More than thirty floors down was the room that they intended to visit, and soon enough did reach. What transpired there was a quiet affair.

The room's center was where there was a single box, crafted from what appeared to be a single slab of black diamond. Though less than twice her height, the black box nonetheless towered over Lilithmon at about four metres from top to bottom. All it had in the way of eye-catching features were the soft-white handle on the door in. The first after the second after the last, the three of them entered the box to never emerge.

Closer to the entrance, in fact barely twelve steps away, stood there a circular computations terminal which was built from emerald metal, and tipped with a blank screen. Once it had been activated, and verified her identity by means of scanning her code for the Crest of Lust, Lilithmon quickly set about activating the deletion program on each of them in turn.

Lilithmon gazed somberly at the black box, hesitating a moment before finishing their request. The console screen reported three of the code transcripts stored in its memory banks deleted. With a sigh, the Lust Lord turned around and sauntered away.

After the passage of long and silent moments, spent on pensively walking the hall, Lilithmon stepped outside, onto the flat and immaculately-clean disc that was their roof. Because the roof was empty of all things other than the staircase into the deeper regions of the fortress, she spotted almost immediately the pair who were currently on guard duty.

A creature with a spindly mud-brown body whose torso was armored in violet-black metal, and possessed a multitude of knife-like red talons protruding both from its hands and from its feet, laid sprawled out over the roof near its southern end (from a bird's eye perspective, one might note that that the cardinal directions were denoted on the roof, in the DigiCode language), intently gazing over the continent beyond.

By its side (the left side, incidentally) sat a fair-skinned and raven-haired young human male; dressed was he in a suit that covered every spot of his body, save for his head. Just as Diaboromon did, Diaboromon's human, Arata as he was named, cast his gaze out over the world.

Both heard the sound of footsteps, but neither felt like turning around to see how it was. "Arata," muttered the Mega. The lean-figured man shot the virus a dissuading look. Lilithmon paused in her strides behind the duo, regarding their exchanges with amusement. "Arata, tell me who this is," repeated the virus, in a voice of ambiguous gender. Arata sighed mentally, then turned his head ninety degrees.

"Mistress," greeted the Tamer, moving to face her without getting up. Diaboromon gave the smallest possible shrug, at hearing who their visitor was. "I hope you are enjoying the day."

A small smirk flowered on Lilithmon's face, its shine reaching up into her eyes. "I suppose that I am. It is far from unpleasant, Arata. Now, how has your current stay up here been?"

After a bit of pensive silence, Diaboromon wagged a claw, "Fairly uneventful. I think that it was an hour ago that an ArchDevimon happened to fly over the castle, and I shot that one down. I know not nor care what became of its egg."

Lilithmon nodded, satisfied with that report. "And I trust that you have patrolled the north, west and east as well?"

Mild unease flashed in the eyes of the partner pair. "Erm, no," answered Arata flatly. "I think we may have forgotten to do so."

Lilithmon supposed that it was somewhat understandable: Logically, two people could not give their full attention to four compass directions. She eyed the pair wearily, "Then I strongly recommend that you correct that oversight. The very last thing we need is another pack of Arkadimon infiltrating the fortress."

Whatever answer the Tamer and Digimon were about to give was silenced by a single thunderous footfall, sounding of metal colliding with metal. Lilithmon spun; Arata rushed onto his feet; Diaboromon flipped over so that she could see what had arrived now. They recognized the creature as not one of their own, as a ChaosGallantmon.

The dark knight's silver-and-blue armor shimmered in the sunlight, shield and lance at the ready. The knightly demon raised her lance at the Lust Lord, and spoke with a woman's voice, "Be thou Lilithmon?"

"Indeed, I am," confirmed the Lord of Lust, amiably, curiously inspecting the armored stranger while folding her arms. "Care to introduce yourself?"

The knight-in-shining-armor glared balefully at the demon. "I have come to slay thee, monster, and forever end the tyranny of the Demon Lords. No other shall suffer because of you, I, ChaosGallantmon, swear it! I care not how many of your so-called Emissaries of Darkness you will send to stand against I in my noble quest, I shall slay them all if I must to achieve this victory!"

Lilithmon looked distinctly unimpressed. "Allow me to correct you, on multiple points. First: You will most certainly not kill anyone who resides within this mountain, if you even could. Second: The Dark Area exists to supply the Demon Lord collective with whatever we desire whenever we do, and one renegade soldiers won't change what has been the way of the world for millennia uncounted. Third: The only one who will die here today is you, just like every other self-appointed freedom fighter to cross our paths."

ChaosGallantmon shot her a befuddled look, and adjusted her stance to better guard herself with her shield. "What madness do you mouth, Demon Lord!?"

A smirk grew on Lilithmon's lips. "Rather slow today, are we? I will spell it out for you then. The Dark Area is so vast a world that we might well call it an infinitude onto itself. For many a millennium have we, the Seven Sins, reigned absolutely in this world. Our subjects, wherever and however they might live, are beyond number. Do you think that in all this immensity, you alone would rebel against us, are you truly so blind?"

ChaosGallantmon said nothing; she just continued to glare at the archfiend. She refused to think that there might be truth to what Lilithmon had just said.

"But as I am feeling generous, I will allow you to have the fight you came for," said Lilithmon, and snapped her fingers. With a declaration of "Empress Emblaze," a wall or a wave of solidified shadow rose up behind her, and from that emerged a truly hideous thing.

The thing that Lilithmon had created moderately resembled a five-fingered hand, but it was made from diseased flesh and far dwarfed its conjurer. Where there should have been fingers, there were instead the heads of five different varieties of dragon. In the palm of that hand, there was an eye-ball with a multitude of irides, and two mouths as well.

ChaosGallantmon had only a half second or so to react and process this event before the hand snatched her up, and went off with the knight in its grip. The Demon Lord and Dark Digidestined glanced briefly in ChaosGallantmon's direction.

Then, Lilithmon turned to the duo, getting their attention.

"I believe that this resolves that little distraction," spoke their ruler. "Now, before I forget again, I came up here because I have some unfortunate news. Rapidmon and Willis and Magnamon are no longer among us, and they asked me to erase their code transcripts."

Somber looks flashed onto their faces and eyes. Arata looked glumly away, unsure of how to think about the fact that his lover had elected death - the only kind of permanent death available to them here - without consulting him.

Once again, the metaphorical camera opened, and recorded a particular region of Lilithmon's citadel. On this particular occasion, it was one of the five rooms that made up their seventh floor - the arena, where Lilithmon's followers went to engage in combat whenever they desired such.

At the moment, only three people who dwelled in this castle occupied the room - the Demon Lord herself and their faction's two members who could move through time as easily as through space.

An easy silence reigned in their hall of battle, giving Lilithmon time to ponder.

Some of their subjects imagined, she reflected idly, that traveling into other universes, and the biverses of the timestream, was a difficult thing to achieve, that being a DarkKnightmon or Parallelmon granted you great power. It was the reverse, however, that was closer to the truth of the matter. All that was required was the ability to conduct even a rudimentary form of real-space coding, and knowledge of the access codes into the Lower Realms.

Dismissing the bit of thought, the Demon Lord turned to other matters. It took her only a long moment of intent thoughts to reprogram the fabric of existence until it gave her what she wanted - a portal to a reality within the timestream.

A few steps ahead of the Demon Lord, a hair-thin sheet of space measuring barely sixteen square metres began to react to what Lilithmon desired, in two different places - from two disconnected spots and outwards, tiny rectangular pixels slid back into non-existence, gradually giving way to a concrete roof-top in some other world and in to a jungle area in some third reality.

Lilithmon turned to them, shooting a brief look. Her intent, that the stage was set for one of them to comb this one of her favored recruiting grounds, carried without error to her friends.

Millenniummon began sauntering forward, into the gateway that connected to the roof and the world of the Digidestined. Mastemon strode forward as well, stepping into the world that the Tamer Union knew best. With Lilithmon alone as their witness, they began their search, accessing the timestream with their respective abilities to do so. Thus was there left an empty and quiet roof for Lilithmon to gaze at, which quickly bored her.

After a minute or three of silently waiting for their return, Lilithmon began losing her patience. She began to walk, quickly settling into a rectangular circuit for herself to follow. Really, reflected the devil with a touch of exasperation attached to the thought, what good was four-dimensional movement if the ability did not make you incapable of tarrying? She dismissed the thought, deciding against exploring it further. Such absurd and surreal notions was what GranDracmon liked to spend his days. Lilithmon fancied herself a sensible sort, unlike the Dark Sun God.

Finally, after what felt like a long while to Lilithmon (objectively, she knew it could only have been twelve minutes or something close to that, but it still felt like a small eternity), Millenniummon emerged. She observed that the dark dragon held a partner pair in the iron-tipped talons of her lower arms.

Both the French teen girl and Floramon glowered at the Mega who had abducted them. For her (or perhaps, their) part, Millenniummon gave them not a look or a word in response. The Mega quietly lowered them, slowly enough that the human and Floramon could gain stable footing, and then released her hold on them. "Happy now?" grumbled the four-armed dragon.

Though not entirely satisfied, Catherine eventually nodded. It surprised her a bit that the strange creature spoke Japanese, but it was fortunately a language she understood. Then, the blonde felt a tug on her hoodie. Darting her eyes down, she noticed that Floramon was pointing with her petaled hand to her left. The blonde turned in that direction.

For a moment, wordlessly, Catherine Deneuve and Lilithmon gazed at one another. Catherine frowned, disoriented by this chain of events and unhappy with that. Lilithmon gave the red-hoodie-and-green-skirt-ensemble-wearing teen a welcoming smile.

"Welcome, both of you, to my humble abode," greeted the Demon Lord. "I am Lady Lilithmon, and I do so hope that we speak a common language; that issue might be tricky to circumvent if we do not."

Floramon looked uncertainly at the woman. Catherine blinked, unsure if she had heard her right.

"Yes, I speak Japanese well enough," retorted Catherine, with undisguised frustration, "but if you think that we're in the mood to make nice with you after you had," she gestured with her open hand to Millenniummon, "this hideous thing kidnap us into the Digital World, you've got another thing coming."

Millenniummon shrugged, vaguely disinterested. "I suppose that I should apologize for that, then," began the black dragon, visibly befuddling the pair. "I didn't mean to hurt you, just to bring you here so you guys and Lilithmon could have a moment to talk."

"Indeed," intoned the archfiend. "I ask only that you hear me out and give thought to my offer. If you then refuse me, Millenniummon will do everything she is able to escort you home, and you need never give this little happening any further thought."

Catherine blinked once again, next settling into an evaluating stare aimed at Lilithmon. The flowery female beside the blonde mentally decided to humor the weirdos; the sooner they could leave, the better. "Alright," said the French teen after a pause, with her tell-tale accent quietly tinging her voice. "If you just want to talk, then, let's talk."

Lilithmon flashed Catherine an inviting smile. "I believe we should begin with introducing ourselves. I am Lilithmon, Lady of the Dark Area, queen to all who dwell in this world. Who do I have the pleasures of conversing with this day?"

"I'm Floramon," replied the Rookie, and gestured to her human, "and this is Catherine."

Lilithmon looked them over again. "Pretty names for pretty people," she complimented. "Now, the reason I asked Millenniummon to fetch you is that I would like for you both to join my faction. I assure you that the position has quite lucrative benefits attached to it. For you, Floramon, an elevation to the Mega level. For you, Catherine, the elusive prize of immortality. For both of you, a new home to live in, with many others who accepted what I am offering to give you, and a new Digivice to accompany your induction, and many more creature comforts as well."

Gawking, the title-less duo were at a loss for words. Lilithmon's smirk was unwavering for the entirety of the pause before the next word. Catherine was the first to speak, and she spoke thusly: "Wow."

Wow was right, though Floramon. In all her years, she had never heard of anyone who didn't spend entire centuries on striving that far down the road of strength that they could Digivolve that far and stay in that form for good.

Catherine drew a breath. "Are-are you serious?" questioned the eighteen-years-old, gazing with wide eyes at Lilithmon. "Me, immortal?"

"Entirely," announced the devilish one. "Now, there is something equally relevant you both should know, that might influence your decisions," she went on. "Are either of you familiar with the story called the Metaphor of the Cave?"

The pair shared brief looks. Millenniummon scoffed with amusement, a bit curious to see where this was headed.

"Can't say I am," said Catherine, "what is it?"

Lilithmon raised her index finger to her lower lip, looking briefly pensive, then lowered the appendage. "The Metaphor of the Cave revolves around a person who has spent their life inside a cave, and has never experienced the world that lies outside of it. In coming here, you have left the proverbial cave. The biverse you two were hatched in is only an illusion, thin and temporary, conjured up by the timestream. The world we are in now, the World of Darkness, is the true world."

Floramon blinked, unsure what that was supposed to mean. "Biverse? True world? Dark world? What?"

Lilithmon responded with naught but a chuckle. "Oh, those terms are but a few of the things we know of here. There ought to be time for you two to learn more of such later today. If you happen to be curious about how I know these things, let us just say that I have a friend who likes to delve into... eldritch and otherworldly matters, I suppose an apt phrasing. Now, regardless of that, what do you think of my proposition?"

Catherine was beginning to think that this was all just some seriously crazy dream. It made more sense that way. The blonde shrugged, "dunno. It sounds too good to be true that you'd do all that for us. What's the catch?"

Millenniummon shot the pair an annoyed look. "You shouldn't question my lady's generosity, everything she's offering you is on the level; trust me on that score. Me and my human, Relena, we've been around for over fourteen-thousand years, and it's been one awesome ride."

Catherine gasped; Floramon just gaped in failed comprehension. "Fou-fourteen-thousand..." breathed Catherine, amazed.

"Indeed," said Lilithmon, with her characteristic unwavering smirk. "To address your query: There is no 'catch', as you put it, save that you would have to leave the world you were born in. All good things come at a price, whatever it might be. What will your aswers, I mean, answers be?"

Floramon was quick to give her answer. "Well, I'm sold on it," she then turned to her fated human comrade. "How about you?"

All three (or four, depending on how you were to count it; Millenniummon was formed from two souls and bodies) of the battle hall's occupants fixed their gazes on the young woman. Catherine, consciously ignoring their staring to think in peace, began to turn and walk forward.

The blonde gazed, with somber blue eyes, out over the battle-scarred area. It took her a moment to reach a conclusion. Then, she spun to meet the three.

"Yes," the blonde gave a flat smile.

Lilithmon's smirk widened, and became almost radiant. The Demon Lord turned to face Floramon. "Then, let us proceed with elevating you to the Mega level," she informed the Rookie. "I should begin with expanding her DigiCore before activating her Digivolution sub-routine. To do that, I would need to know a reasonable quantity of data," so noted the devil. "Millenniummon, conduct a scan of Floramon."

The dark dragon gave her mistress a sheepish look. "I left it in my room, sorry."

Catherine looked cluelessly at them, but didn't feel curious enough to ask.

Lilithmon pursed her lips briefly, in a thin line that spoke at length of dissatisfaction. "I suppose that I will have to improvise, then. Execute program: DigiCore Data Transfer," she spoke with sudden solemnity.

On the floor beneath the foursome of allies, an arcane circle manifested without prior warning over the course of a split-second. Its text and symbols glowed a bright, almost pleasant shade of green. The text, however, alarmed Catherine a bit, as it was of a clear demonic nature. Lilithmon took note of the surprise on the blonde's face, but did not hesitate in her continued speech.

"Move one-hundred gigabyte from system-designate-Lilithmon to AI-designate-Floramon. Nightmare Soldier data ratio: Zero percent. Jungle Troopers data ratio: Zero percent. Virus Buster data ratio: Zero percent. Dragon's Roar data ratio: Zero percent. Deep Savers data ratio: Zero percent. Nature Spirits data: Zero percent. Metal Empire data ratio: Zero percent. Wind Guardians data ratio: Zero percent. Begin transferral in zero seconds."

The coding embedded in the arcane-looking circle and its runes began to do its work. Before their eyes, light-blue barcode streams of something that Catherine and Floramon did not recognize, but Millenniummon did, as Fractal Code began to emerge from several points on Lilithmon - her forehead, her skin-covered hand, her right eyeball and breast and wing, her stomach and her left leg - which all moved by themselves through the air and the space between them, and into Floramon.

Of that infusion, the Rookie registered only the warmth that accompanied the new surge of power; the specific change worked in her DigiCore, the upshoot in its quantity of virtual energies to one-hundred-and-sixteen gigabyte's worth, eluded her conscious mind.

With the utterance of a few simple words from Lilithmon - "Execute Digivolution-dot-EXE file of system-designate-Floramon: Mega" - the tiny little plant began to glow white, so brightly that every detail and pixel of her form was obscured.

In her own mental landscape within her DigiCore, Floramon glowed gold, but not so brightly that it obscured the Rookie from sight. A beam of digital energy shot forth and upwards from the Rookie. Where it came to a halt, her Champion body, which was Kiwimon and who was likewise enveloped in gold light, unleashed another such burst of raw power in the opposite direction. That blast as well halted, and where it did, her Ultimate form, Garudamon, was formed as another radiant and golden construct. The avian turned around, unleashing a third and final blast up into the heavens.

There, streams and bits of code worked rapidly to construct Floramon's Mega level manifestation - a slab of bright-brown stone carved to resemble a bird, of comparable proportions to an Imperialdramon in Dragon Mode, with patches of lush emerald grass in place of feathers to be its plumage and a mighty tree growing where there might have been a tail.

In the external virtual space, the glowing Rookie was expanding her code-constructed rapidly into her new form. Though Catherine was alarmed by what that might do to her, it quickly proved a false worry, as Floramon's, or rather, Ceresmon's strikingly large legs did not swell so far that they reached her human nor the other two.

Catherine began to walk, with the intent of getting a good look at the freshly-minted Mega. From a spot next to a rather large rock, Catherine took in the sight of Floramon's Mega form. "You look awesome," gushed the female. Ceresmon shifted in her stance and spread her wings wide, proudly showing herself before her human.

From her spot in this room, close to the door now, Lilithmon observed the giant bird curiously, with her skeletal index to her pursed lips. "Fascinating," thought the archfiend. "If I remember right, one of those teams in the Lower Realms has a Ceresmon among them as well. These two certainly make a fascinating addition to my collection."

The Demon Lord gave a brief round of applause to the demi-god. Both Catherine and Ceresmon moved their heads in Lilithmon's direction, right for the former and left for latter.

"My congratulations are in order," complimented the dress-garbed woman, smiling slyly to them. "Now... well, I do not honestly know how to best segue onto the subject, so I will tell you directly. From what I know of the Ceresmon species, they have a second body to use and inhabit instead of their true larger forms, and if it is all the same to you, I would like to see yours, Ceresmon. The activation phrase for that program should be, Ceresmon Slide Evolution."

The rock-constructed bird looked uncertainly at Lilithmon. "Are you sure about that? I mean, I've never heard about something called Slide Evolution before."

Lilithmon shot a prolonged look up at the avian. "I do not imagine that true omniscience is possible, but from having lived longer than most, I know more than most."

Ceresmon turned her head to Catherine. The blonde, after a momentary pause to ponder the issue, gave the Mega a nod.

The demi-god exhaled. "Ceresmon Slide Evolution," she said, matter of factly. As soon as she had, every inch, nook and cranny of her body released the tell-tale white glow that accompanied a Digivolution. The trio of spectators watched silently, as Ceresmon felt, the faux-Olympian's body change and shrink from a gargantuan avian to something strikingly similar to a homo sapien in size and shape.

The glow abated, laying bare every hue and texture. Her appearance was indeed that of a homo sapien, with soft and milky-white skin tone. Her body's proportions were broadly slender, and her various garments widely styled with an evident floral theme in mind, and her chest looked almost disproportionate ample for someone of her build.

Lilithmon observed the demi-god almost hungrily, her abundant bosoms in particular. This form of Ceresmon had a different kind of beauty to it than the bird, and it was one that she eagerly anticipated taking to bed.

Catherine observed the demi-god openly disappointed. "Aw, c'mon. Before, you were this badass giant stone bird, and now you're just... I don't know what even to call this, a garden-variety stripper?"

Ceresmon Medium folded her arms, opening her mouth to speak. Lilithmon decided that this moment was a good time to step in. "I believe that you ought to continue that little exchange later, because your living quarters await evaluation. I will take you there," announced Lilithmon, getting their attention.

The raven-haired demon punctuated her statement by turning around, and starting to approach the door. With a brief look, the partner-pair agreed to continue the issue later, and they began to follow.

Catherine halted mid-step, noticing a familiar face in the painting. "Ceresmon," she called to her partner. The false goddess looked at her, then looked to where on the wall the blonde was pointing. "Is that Davis Motomiya?"

The plant-woman looked briefly at that particular painting, finding that Cat was right. The coal-black bodysuit was new, but that maroon shade of the man's hair and eyes was unmistakable as Davis'.

"Perhaps you should inspect the other wall as well," Lilithmon interjected without turning to look at them, sounding amused. Doing so, the duo laid their eyes on another painting, one that depicted a humanoid dragon who wore body-armor primarily black and white and gold in color and who had a pair of large burgundy wings jutting out of his back.

"And Imperialdramon," deadpanned the French woman. "I am officially no longer surprised."

Ceresmon gazed pensively at the painting. Truthfully, she wasn't yet entirely convinced that Lilithmon was trust-worthy, but Davis and Imperialdramon being here, that was at least a good sign in the right direction.

"Oh?" ohhed Lilithmon, smirking. "Then perhaps I should endeavor to impart a startling revelation, eh? There are also a few others from your biverse living here; Sora, for instance, and HerculesKabuterimon as well, Ken and Yolei and Shakkoumon and Vikemon."

That didn't really surprise Catherine, partly because she had already seen the paintings of Phoenixmon and Sora a bit back.

Soon after, their stroll through the spiraling corridor that spanned the length and breadth of Lilithmon's mountain-covered castle had begun again. Their jaunt lasted for close to twenty minutes before they arrived at a room that the Demon Lord recalled as not being occupied.

Their walk through the hallway finally reached its end, a bit more than a hair's breadth before Ceresmon's patience did.

Lilithmon gestured to the door, flashing a coy smile. Catherine inspected the door briefly, finding the brown-wood construct unremarkable, before moving to open it.

Surprise flashed on the blonde's face at the sight of the bedroom's interior. Ceresmon gaped at the sight.

Before the speechless duo laid a hall that was almost fifteen-hundred square metres wide in its internal territory; as well, from the ceiling to the floor, there were almost eight-hundred metres of open space in this place. Four ocean-blue walls surrounded the staggering expanse's lone piece of furniture, an already-made bed that seemed made for giants.

"Is it to your liking?" inquired the archfiend, matter of factly.

The words snapped the French human out of her reverie. "Well..." she mumbled, uncertain of how to phrase herself, and after a pause continued, "it's pretty big, but I guess I'd kinda expected more than just a room and a giant bed. I mean, I'm pretty sure you mentioned something about creature comforts earlier."

Ceresmon affixed Lilithmon with a curious look.

"And I indeed intend to give you two such," responded the Demon Lord. "The doors that we passed on our way here, those on the right side, leads to our entertainment locales. We have a library, a combat arena, a beach," at this, the pair's expressions took a turn for the befuddled, "a wardrobe hall, and a few things besides. Outside on the roof, there is what we call the look-out, where-" Lilithmon paused. "Whatever perplexes you?"

"A beach?" echoed the golden-haired human, mouth slightly agape. Her face lit up with glee at the prospect of actually seeing a beach. "D'you mean that ya have an indoor beach here?"

"Indeed," confirmed Lilithmon, with the same eternal smirk that spoke of playful superiority. The earnest look on the blonde's face reminded the raven-haired queen of a select few of her companions, the ones like Plutomon who expressed their joy and good cheer without any restraint. "It should be approximately," she moved to open the door on the other side of the hall.

To the trio opened now another corridor, whose walls were bookshelves that were loaded to the brim with a colorful assortment of reading material. About twelve metres in, the pathway diverged to the right and to the left. A deep silence filled that region's air.

Lilithmon raised her clawed appendage, pointing further down the hallway while speaking, "The beach should be about forty doors away in that direction, although I would not recommend paying a visit."

Catherine frowned mildly, looking flatly at the devil she'd struck a pact with; Ceresmon shot the demon a suspicious glare. Lilithmon shrugged her shoulders. "It is not that the beach is not extant, but some of my associates tend to frown upon strangers intruding there. It is a place of sanctuary for us. Once you have been formally introduced, I would be delighted," her grin turned almost predatory at that utterance, "to escort you both there if you so wish."

Ceresmon wasn't entirely convinced; it sounded reasonable, but a good lie was supposed to. "I think that Cath and I," the faux-Olympian said, placing a firm hand on the blonde's shoulder "will be going for a walk and take a look at this look-out you mentioned. It's back the way we came, right?"

The Demon Lord had not a moment to answer that question; the false-Olympian practically ran off with her human.

It was only once that the pair had gotten about twenty metres away from the devil that Ceresmon slowed down.

A tad weary in her stance and speech, Catherine asked, "what was that about?", and gave her partner a curious as well as mildly peeved look.

The pink-haired Mega looked down the corridor, looking and listening for Lilithmon, quickly concluding that she hadn't followed them. Then, Ceresmon turned her gaze to Catherine. "I'm just not convinced that we can actually trust Lilithmon. I mean, I feel pretty much fine, so that might be on the level, but I'm not convinced that her motive here is squeaky-clean."

Catherine considered that, then nodded to the taller female. "Good point. On the other hand, though, people like Davis Motomiya and Sora Takenouchi are here too. She just can't be evil if they would sign up with her?"

Ceresmon gazed uncertain at her human. "That's true, but I still think that we ought to be careful; you heard the rubbish she spouted, she's weird. Plus, we know too little about this, everything of this, to make any judgment calls."

Catherine looked pensively up the corridor. Across the walls ran the two rows of gold-framed paintings that the blonde was growing accustomed to seeing. The human absently looked over them, nothing of the black-dressed humans or the non-humans on other side managing to pique her interest. Actually, that was a lie.

The blonde blinked, then began walking towards a painting about ten metres or three Dark-Digidestined-painting-pairs away from where she and Ceresmon had made their stop, and quickly came to another halt.

On the wall hang a painting of a woman around her own age that Catherine did not recognize, whose name was Himari Oofuchi.

Cath's eyes wandered, lightly mesmerized by the painting woman's looks, over the painting.

The eighteen-ish-years-old stood on a meadowy field, garbed in the same jet-black suit that the blonde and Ceresmon had seen most of the humans here wear - an attire which covered every part of her slim body that was below her neck. She stood beneath a cloudy sky, with a mountain range as the distant backdrop, with an inviting smile on her lips. Her arms were folded and positioned in such a fashion that the gesture directed attention to her moderately-stacked chest, which her attire emphasized in equal measure.

One facet about her puzzled Catherine. "Her eyes and hair are purple. Why, how is that possible?"

Ceresmon, who had walked up behind her, thought it was a good question. "Dunno. Guess it is. Not that weird, considering; you saw that green-hair human chick, and I've got pink hair to boot."

Catherine pouted. Where there was something weird, thought the blonde, there had to be an explanation, and the freaky hair-colors around here was the weirdest thing she'd seen all day.

"Anyway," continued Ceresmon, with a sly grin tinging her voice; her blonde-haired human glanced up at Ceresmon Medium, flushing openly at her partner's well-proportioned bosoms. "Let's take a look-" Catherine decided against making the obvious wise-crack, simply eyeing her partner slyly; Ceresmon ignored that look in the blonde's eyes, "at this look-out Lilithmon mentioned. We could benefit from some fresh air."

The duo began another walk upwards in the spiraling hallway. The majority of the stroll was spent in firm silence, shared between just the two of them. Idly, the human of the partner-pair studied the paintings, out of mild curiosity to see a face that she might recognize from the living legends back home, who weren't Sora, Cody, Davis or Ken.

It was a brief while, and about twenty pairs of those paintings, before Catherine halted audibly, at the sight of something she hadn't noticed before. On the right-side wall was a knightly Digimon, plated in immaculate white armor, with the heads of a WarGreymon and MetalGarurumon where humans had hands. What was even more surprising to Catherine was that, instead of the familiar blond and brunet, the painting on the other side depicted a red-haired woman who looked both beautiful and about eighteen years old.

That oddity was brief-lived, but their walk proved to be otherwise. Before either knew it, they had lost track of how much time they had spent there. After each bed-chambers room door that they passed, the paintings of Lady Lilithmon's social circle were repeated, the same people in a different order; hence, it quickly became tedious.

Catherine stopped dead, feeling only ache and fatigue in her legs. She was dead-sure they had been walking non-stop for an hour. "How damn long is this corridor?"

Ceresmon beside her could only agree.

The next twenty-ish minutes consisted of simply trudging along, without seeing any end to the path before them. Eventually, the French ladies did reach some manner of end to this hall - a staircase that led up. Their faces lit up, and with renewed vigor, the partners scaled the staircase.

What they emerged to was open space. Above, the pair saw a bright and cloud-covered blue sky. What laid beneath their feet was a disc of slate-grey metal, perfectly flat and smooth, which ran dozens of metres away from where they had faced. In the distance, they both saw a vast and varied landscape unfold.

Looking around, Ceresmon quickly noticed three humans lying on the ceiling, far on their left side. Two of them, the Mega recognized by their hair-colors as Davis Motomiya and Ken Ichijouji. Then, she quickly poked Catherine's shoulder without a word, and pointed them out to her. The blonde looked towards.

"I advise," a clear and feminine voice rang out across the roof, "that you two surrender without hesitation or precondition, then tell us who you are."

The pair turned around, and saw Omnimon walking slowly towards them, with a ebon-black blaster extended from the MetalGarurumon hand and pointed at them.

"Crap," thought both of them simultaneously. Omnimon was probably the biggest badass of all the partners in the entire Digimon community back on earth, and Mega or not, Catherine didn't wanna see how Ceresmon stacked up against the knight. "uhhr, since when is Omnimon a chick?" wondered the blonde.

Davis, Ken and Rina got up from their spot, then glanced over at the beginning scuffle. Each one had a lightly curious glint in their eyes.

The pseudo-Royal-Knight halted, a few metres before the human and faux-Olympian, keeping her weapon at the ready. "I grow impatient, now speak!" hollered the knight-in-white armor.

The French woman glared defiantly back at Omnimon, ignoring the cannon as best she could.

After a pause, Catherine released a sigh, her sight nervous and fixed on the white knight's cannon. "I'm Catherine, she's called Ceresmon. We'hhh, we're here because Lilithmon, well, I guess she's asked us to work for her."

Omnimon regarded her stoically. After a moment's consideration, the long-range weapon clicked, slid back into the mouth of the lupine, and the MetalGarurumon's jaw clicked shut. "You are new recruits, are you?" It was not impossible, she thought while she lowered his arm. The pair breathed a sigh of relief. Over at their spot of the viewing platform, disappointment showed on the trio's faces.

"Tell me," she went on, recalling how Himari had reacted. "Have you two been informed that this is Hell?"

Catherine blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?" glowered the Mega.

Omnimon ohhhed. "I do not mean that either of you are unpleasant to converse with, because you haven't been thus far. I mean that this place is located within Hell, the realm of demons and devils, and of infernal flame and frost."

Catherine gaped, speechless and widened-eyed. Ceresmon cast a look of open worry at her partner. "If that's true, we need to leave... ... probably too late, we already agreed. Maybe I can talk Lilithmon into letting Cath go if I offered to let her keep me in exchange. Memo to self, try it later."

"Today," announced the French woman, tiredly, "cannot get any weirder. How the hell did I end up in Hell? Why the hell," she gestured wildly to the pleasant azure skies far above them, "does Hell look like France on a summer day? And while I'm at it- oh, I just realized. Crap."

The blonde heard Ceresmon say, "you okay?", and place a gentle hand on her shoulder. Catherine breathed out a sigh, and looked towards Davis and Ken. "I dunno. It can't be as bad as it sounds and looks, not if Ken and Davis and the rest of these guys all agreed to sign up and stuck around, right?"

From the unease in her voice, even Omnimon could tell that she doubted it herself. "Indeed not," the knight told the two. "You see, we Emissaries have, alongside Mistress Lilithmon, carved out this small corner of this Dark Area to serve our home. Here, there is nothing we want for. Life here in the citadel is an unending amount of fun, and sex, and the company of friends, and we are free to roam around in the world as we please. I have no doubt that you will come to enjoy living here with us."

Catherine looked at Omnimon, openly unconvinced. "Okay, can we start this conversation over? There's just so much here that does not make sense right here. First off, how can this be Hell?" she gestured, first to the picturesque skies, then to the surrounding landscapes. "Isn't Hell supposed to be full of hellfire and brimstone and suffering people?"

"Oh, the Dark Area has such places in it," disclosed the white knight. "For instance, there lies a chasm about a dozen kilometres north-west of here where a flock of BurningDevimon has taken residence. I believe that would be hellfire enough, although I am not certain about whether they suffer."

Neither of them recognized the name. Exchanging a brief look, they silently agreed to not ask what that was.

"Second question," resumed the blonde. "Since when are there demons in the Digital World? I mean, it's cyberspace, and you guys are AI, so... yep."

"There are demons here, same as there are sentient machines, and beasts and birds and dragons," she replied. "Being made of code does not make us Digimon these things any less than whatever comprises your body makes you a human."

The French Digidestined supposed that was a good enough answer.

"Third," Ceresmon took over, "what was that about sex?"

Catherine affixed Omnimon with a curious look, faintly recalling everything she had come to learn about the subject of Digimon and sex. "See," the female Mega went on, "you kinda made it sound like Digimon having sex is a thing here."

Omnimon regarded them inattentively, deliberating her phrasing. "While it is true that the vast majority of my people in this Digital World do not have sex, there does exist a small handful of species which are physically capable of intercourse. These are primarily the species that are most similar to you humans, Beelzemon for instance, and Angewomon as well, and also the Devimons. I imagine that this is different on your home planes?"

Catherine shrugged. Beyond the dull 'no such thing, she hadn't much bothered to learn about Digimon sexuality. "Yeah, pretty much," answered Ceresmon.

"This trivia session can wait," asserted Omnimon, and gestured to the never-ending landscapes on her left side. "We were on guard duty, you see, and I think that us four would appreciate a chance to be better acquainted with you both. What say you to joining us on this occasion?"

Catherine glanced up at Ceresmon; Ceresmon glanced down at Catherine. For a moment, there was silence, while the two gazed deeply into the other's eyes. Then, Catherine broke the sustained stare, and looked over at the spectating trio. "Sure," replied the blonde, without turning to the knight.

Chapter Text

Before their gaze, there were their subjects.

A massive horde of Deep Ones were bowed in reverence before Hikari's physical form, here at Innsmouth's outer beach. The yellow-robed female cast a brief look with her false eyes, both to her right and to her left, a sluggish and weary motion like a corpse might make.

In either direction, their gathering continued without end - further than either the Deep One god or goddess could see. Twenty or thirty rows of the sea-native people stood gathered before the endless sea, happily offering up gestures and whispered murmurs of servitude and faith to them. Some of them were larger than other younger ones, but they were bowing just the same.

Above that horde of sea-dwellers were others who worshipped the Dark Sun God and the Lady of Light - winged serpents given form from that same manifested darkness which gave form and substance to the Deep Ones. Quiet was the flapping of their umbral wings, and closed were their eyes, and on their gods were their minds.

Around the Deep Ones and Winged Ones roamed shadows or things like shadows, things that marked themselves as unnatural by their abundance of blood-colored eyes. Both through the air surrounding them as well as the land and ocean beneath, and even onto their bodies, did the shadow trail and creep.

The queen in yellow watched her worshippers dispassionately, her thoughts elsewhere than here.

How long ago had it been, murmured the spirit dwelling within to the unmoving non-human. Two years, perhaps. Two years, as the human race defined the term, since last a mortal incarnation of Kari Kamiya had come here.

He remembered that day, a somewhat pleasant occurrence. Then, she and her friends had learned portions of the truth concerning the two of them. Perhaps, mused the Dark Sun God, that incarnation of her might soon be ready to learn everything that many-angled time involved for them - that her path from mortal being to divine being was not quite the linear and sequential thing they had been told it was.

... once, that was, he himself fully understood that mystery.

Why, thought the Deep One god to the Deep One goddess; why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why?

Why were they destined to collide in battle?

The Lady of Light didn't answer, feeling not so inclined. Dagomon went on.

However many times did they need to begin their conflict anew - memories of past battles, where Kari had fought him alone, where Kari had fought him with her friends by her side, where

he remembered times when Kari had fought him, alone and with her Digimon at her side, or with Davis or TK or Yolei or Cody or whomever among her human friends, times when they had won and when they had fallen before him - before it would be enough? What conclusion or result did their battle need to reach before it could be allowed to finally end?

What was it that even fundamentally made it possible for them to be tethered together across time like this? The World of Darkness was a Higher Realm, so it should by all logic be impossible for anything in the timestream to reach as far as this place, yet whatever it was that drew them together refused to yield in its grip.

Rather, no matter how hard he tried to escape it, avoid causing her harm, it just did not work. In the Dark Ocean, he was already outside the whole of time and space, so where was there left to run? Where could he go that Kari Kamiya, in all her radiance and incarnations, would not be able to follow? Where could he go that she would leave him alone?!

I hate her, was the thought that bubbled up in Dagomon now. He despised her, unspeakably. He wanted to kill her - snap her neck, rip her legs and arms off, break her bones, whip her bloody, drown her, electrocute her, burn her, bury her alive, freeze her body until it could be snapped into pieces, stab her until she had more wounds than untouched skin. He wanted to feast on her entrails, and drink her blood as if were it a fine wine.

He wanted her to suffer more than mere pains of the flesh. The humans, every Kari Kamiya everywhere, deserved to watch their loved ones suffer and scream and die - whatever it took for the Chosen Child of Light to be broken utterly, be hurt greater and less transiently than a savage death. If there was one thing his knowledge of her was conducive to, it was knowing how to cause her pain. No matter what the world, her greatest weakness had always been her care, and her penchant for letting it override her senses of logic and self-preservation, for her friends.

Something that thus would truly devastate her, break her heart, was being forced to kill all those whom she loved herself, and being made to revel in that spilling of blood. He was certain that he knew what might motivate her to do that; it had, after all, worked before.

Even so, he just could not stop himself from loving her every bit as much as he hated her. Most people, mused Hikari, would find that contradictory, but in truth, it wasn't.

Perhaps it was easier to - a particularly loud "Dagomon fhtagn!" from a Deep One interrupted him mid-thought. Perhaps it was easier to simply conclude that this eternal feud was their destiny; accept that no matter what he did or where he hid or how many times they killed one another in their battles, he would never be free of her nor vice versa.

How could he be, thought Dagomon, grimly. Though Kari Kamiya was not alone in hosting a Light-force or to have the potential for a Crest of Light embedded in her soul, her radiance was so potent that even here, a creation removed and worldly barriers dividing them, the energies she bled were unmissable, and a perfect mirror of his own power - overwhelming, equally capable of creation and destruction, evil as well as good and yet being neither.

He took a moment to soothe himself, against the ache of his mind's eye.

It still didn't really make much sense, communed Hikari through their psychic link, to her that it was merely the bond between light and shadow that orchestrated their eternal feud. Were it simply so, their battle ought to be restricted to the infinite worlds contained inside of the timestream that they had abandoned.

Whatever brought their conflict about needed, then, to be something else - something that transcended existential planes both High and Low. Their platonic ideals, perhaps, she thought to him, the aspect of all that existed which was neither form nor spirit. Perhaps it was written in their most absolute and fundamental, purest, selves - the essential incarnation of Hikari Kamiya and Dagomon - that they were bound to cross paths and collide in battle, no matter what else was true in their lives.

Hikari felt pensiveness emanate from him. That, returned the Dark Sun God, might well be the truth of the matter, that quality which had brought them into battle so many times: It was written into the platonic ideals of the two of them, and because of that, their transcended time and space and spirit and substance.

Dagomon and Hikari were destined enemies - that was a reality, as true as truth could ever be. Dagomon didn't care much for the theory, but it was what it was.

The question is, thought the goddess to the god, what did it insinuate for their present material expressions that they had turned away from their hypothetical status as destined enemies? The rational conclusion seemed that they were denying their true natures, a phrasing which made it sound more negative than she intended.

Another question, what did it make the two of them, and Lilithmon's underlings for that matter? Failed platonic ideals, she mused to herself. That sounded rather... not too wrong, as a summation of them. Dagomon supposed that the term could be accurate, but perhaps their latest attempt at understanding what compelled them to do battle again and again was too fundamentally holistic to succeed. In their mind, Dagomon set his map of the situation up again to view over.

The World of Darkness. The World of Light. His multiverse, her multiverse.

The Light World's nature was akin to an endlessly-shifting array of color, just as Light was its own spectrum of electromagnetic radiation - for each color that it had, another space existed in the many-angled stream of time.

The Dark World's nature was akin to drops of her black blood on a canvas, just as Darkness was the absence of brightness and color - for every dot on the drawing board, there was another space and a different Hell.

Their respective Crests represented either cosmic nature, either reality-structure, and all the other facets of those elemental forces. Question was, then, what it was about all of this that continued the cycle. What aspect of this perpetuated it? No matter how he analyzed the conundrum, he observed no probable cause for it either in the parts or the whole. Logically, that meant that the cause was either improbable or non-existent.

Perhaps, it was simply unknowable, something for not even gods to fathom.

An odd notion, thought Hikari. By their very nature, the divine ought to be unbounded in both might and intellect, if the mortal condition was to be thus limited. Perhaps this was also written into the platonic ideals of them - or perhaps, the truth behind that was entirely different.

Perhaps, it was not something external that laid at the core of their conflict, mentally-voiced the Dark Sun God - not some consequence of their divine nature, not something vested in their platonic ideals, not something decided upon by whimsical destiny, not opposing existential structures vying for dominance over creation.

Many, many times over the eons had he changed everything about who he was, yet he could not bring himself to forsake Hikari Kamiya - mortal or divine being, insignificant or fate-blessed, friend or foe or lover. Perhaps Barbamon was right in calling him obsessed.

But then, that did not sound so bad - love and obsession were the same thing, rendered distinct only by the individual's ability to regulate the emotion.

Hikari shot a glance at the horde of creatures. A good number of them, both Deep and Winged Ones, were watching their deities with mixed amusement and curiousity, for they had spaced out for the better part of twelve minutes.

The goddess in false flesh and the body of a nineteen-years-old human faced the sixteen-years-old human; each one stood on their own end of the meadowy battlefield. The human's partner and friend, a guardian angel in the most literal sense, hovered over the brunette. The deity's partner and husband was, as he so often was, nestled within her soul's depths.

Regarding other-her deathly still and silent, Hikari wondered absently what her human self thought of her - perhaps that her yellow-robed doppelganger was merely another her who had failed to evade Dagomon's clutches and sinister intent, and was twisted beyond humanity because of that. It might not be wrong, thought the Deep One deity.

"Yo," came a deep and disgusting gurgle alongside the noise of crumbling stone from Hikari's throat, to the brown-haired human. Hikari smiled mildly at the less-than-formal greeting.

Kari blinked.

"Yo?" parroted the female angel. She stared, very much befuddled, at her human's doppelganger, quickly deciding on a course of action. "I'm sorry, but, who are you?"

Hikari regarded them silently for a moment, a smile on her face. "Hhhh... that is a very complicated question to answer. If you wish to know, I would gladly tell you. However, I advise that you question none of it, if so."

Kari looked uncertainly at her counter-part, eventually saying, "go on."

Hikari gazed neutrally at her human incarnation. "I live with the name, Hikari," she began. "I was once a human, the very person you yourself are now, but that was a very long time ago for me. Ten million years, perhaps, or one-hundred million," it was probably true that she was that old, not that either of them, mused Dagomon, still bothered counting their endless years.

Kari released a breathless gasp. Angewomon stared at Hikari, a bit taken aback by the idea.

"In that time, I have lived in..." she paused, pondering how best to phrase the concept, remaining physically still as she mulled it over. A moment passed. "An alternate reality, a higher world, existing in parallel with what you might know as the timestream or the multiverse. I have ruled it as its queen and goddess with my lover there," her tone was level, yet tinged with pride. "I believe that you already know the name of my universe, the Dark Ocean."

Alarmed, Kari stepped back. Angewomon moved her hands, preparing to fire.

The brunette felt her heart skip a beat, as memories of those awful things and what they wanted to do to her resurfaced in her mind. Her left hand balled into a fist. "Are you responsible for those... things... that tried to kidnap me, then?"

Hikari looked dispassionately at her human self. "Deep Ones, we know their kind as. However, the reason I and Dagomon came to you today is not to discuss their actions, nor eldritch multidimensional mysteries. I and he came to do battle with you and Angewomon, so let us waste no more time on talking. Are you ready?"

Kari stared, mixed confusion and wariness in her eyes. A moment passed, in which neither of the Dark Ocean gods moved from her spot, before the human brunette spoke again. "Why? I've never even met either of you before, what did I do to provoke you?"

Hikari didn't answer, but instead glared sternly at the human. Leisurely, she raised her hands to before her midsection, then dug her fingers into her robes and stomach's flesh. There was not even a twinge of pain or discomfort to see on her face as she ripped herself open from waist to above chest.

Kari's hand flew to her mouth, failing to keep her gasp contained. Sheer horror filled her eyes at the sight of Hikari mutilating herself, and in her throat, she felt bitter bile rise up. Angewomon wavered in her stance, caught off guard by that action.

Within Hikari's open stomach, there was only a roiling blob of obsidian watery thing - though freed to flow, the strange substance remained suspended as though it didn't feel like emerging from her. What did emerge, in the lethargic fashion that the force of gravity imposed on objects of mass rather than any forward motion that his body could manage, was the blue-skinned deity-king that governed the Dark Ocean.

Once he was out in full, it could be seen that he was taller - and a good deal broader - than his partner equally as much as Angewomon was than hers. Concealed behind the sea-creature, it escaped the notice of the Digidestined duo that Hikari's stomach-flesh twisted itself back into being whole, just as the robes also did. Once she had healed, Hikari began to move, to the left side of her partner.

For a moment, the two partner-pairs regarded one another. Then, began the latest battle in earnest.

Chapter Text

Around the honking big table, five people sat - their seating position was a mostly precise accurate imitation of a pentagram.

Those five were, counting clock-wise from the fuzzy bloke at their table, an knight in shining armor with angel's wings whose armor and dress exposed her midriff, another armored figure whose entire body was covered up, a blond-haired female human in an elaborate white dress, another armored entity whose personal armor was primarily red and blue and gold, and (last but not least) a anthropomorphic bunny with soft-colored pink fur.

Unlike most times, Ophanimon was not currently wearing her helmet, revealing her deep-blue eyes and the mole near her left to the other four beings at the table. That, along with the note of mild impatience in her eyes.

On the table, there laid Norn's staff - the object that indicated her origins, in no uncertain terms, to anyone who knew about the Yggdrasill system - in full view of the gathered group of divine ones.

"I'm certain that you're wondering why I asked you here," started Norn. The arch-angels simply stared sternly at her. Norn reminded herself to maintain her composure. "Well, it, ummm, it concerns what Susanoomon and I have recently discovered in our journeys across this world. Much of it is worrying to say the least."

The somber silence almost rushed in, the instant she ceased speaking. It did not linger long, for Seraphimon now punctured it. "Tell me, does your findings relate to this other place where the cat-creature came from and this 'Lord Daemon' it spoke of?"

Norn nodded in affirmation. "In our travels, we've come to learn that beyond this world, the New Digital World contains a number of other worlds as well," she disclosed. Cherubimon listened silently, lips pursed tightly. "We've seen that counting ours, seven exist. The staircases, like the one recently found are a means of traveling between worlds."

Ophanimon decided to speak up. "Before this conversation progresses, I believe it prudent to establish a specific alternative term for those other places beyond our world, to avoid any oddities along the lines of 'worlds in the world'."

"Agreed," intoned Cherubimon. His voice was deep and guttural. A moment of pondering later, he went on, "Is there any objection to choosing 'planes' as the alternative?"

What ensued was a resounding silence that spoke measures. In that brief pause, none of the five moved even a hair. "Then it is agreed," announced Seraphimon. "Please continue with your report, mistress."

"One of these planes that we went to is called the Dark Area," Norn was audibly uneasy to even speak the words. The knight and the beast both arched an eyebrow at the named region. "Yes, unlike the Dark Areas in the Digital Worlds you four and I hail from, the Dark Area is an entire world here. The critical and concerning part is the ones who rule in Hell."

Norn directed a thought into the staff. The faceplate of said staff began to glow, and projected a three-dimensional full-color image of a certain Digimon; that projection hovered over the table at roughly eye-level for them all, and was roughly twice the size of Seraphimon's noggin. From his back grew five pairs of wings - one side angelic, one side demonic. The image spun slowly, giving all of the seated a good look at the hologram.

Cherubimon gasped. "Lucemon!?"

"Yes," answered the Warrior of Heaven. "Apparently, he's been living there for many thousands of years, and that's only as far back as we've been able to date his reign. Unfortunately, that is not the worst of it. Lucemon has put his time to good use, and founded a religion around himself."

The staff projection changed as Norn mentally bade it display another image - or rather, two images of creatures greatly resembling female humans; one dressed in a white nun's gown with gold edges, one dressed in a black nun's gown with silver edges. Likewise, it was turning ceaselessly.

Seraphimon examined the pair for a moment. "I don't think I recognize them. Could I request an explanation?"

Norn nodded, figuring she would anyway.

"They are-" spoke she and Susanoomon simultaneously. They looked briefly at one another, squarely into their eyes, then Norn turned back to the arch-angel. "They are called Sistermons. These two are the Blanc and Noir varieties of that species. Sistermon Blanc are Rookie level while the Noir form is a Champion; we haven't yet discerned if there's any Digivolutionary relation between them. Lucemon seems to have created them, and has commanded them to worship him as the one true God. From what we've overheard from a BladeLadyDevimon, they seem to be officially entitled the Lucemon Corps."

Ophanimon looked distinctly unimpressed, her eyes half-lidded. "Quite the self-promoting title. So, our old enemy has established a power-base here?" in spite of her phrasing, her tone made it plain that it was not a question.

"Yes," verified Susanoomon. "However, the situation extends greatly beyond Lucemon's faith. On our travels, we've discovered that Lucemon has allied himself with at least six others. There also seems to be a eighth member of their faction, varyingly called GranDracmon and Ogudomon, but a knowledgeable sage that we met called Bagramon informed us that only seven of the so-called 'Great Demon Lords' exist. We've yet to reach any clear conclusion about how these things fit together."

"In any case," Norn took over, "we've managed to get pictures of what three of the Great Demon Lords look like," she sent another thought to her staff.

The projected image of the Sistermons flickered, then vanished. The two were replaced with three other figures - a burly horned biped whose entire body was covered in robes that were primarily red yet had elements of yellow and black, a raven-haired and cream-skinned bipedal woman in black and purple garments who had a pair of well-worn ebon-colored wings on her back, a third biped who had a beard that reached down to the feet and who was garbed in lavish and colorful clothes. As with the prior pair, the trio was rotating.

The archangels inspected the images. None of them found anything comment-worthy about those three archfiends.

"The name of the Great Demon Lord in the red robes," disclosed Susanoomon, "is Daemon."

Seraphimon spoke, "hm. So this is the master of my assailant," inspecting the robed figure with a glance of his eyeless helmet. "I believe that you called her a Bastemon, Lady Norn?"

"Yes," she replied. "The other two are called Lilithmon and Barbamon. Like Lucemon, they're the heads of their own armies. Respective, the names of these militaries are the Daemon Corps, the Lilithmon Corps, and the Barbamon Corps."

"However," continued Susanoomon, "Lilithmon's forces also operate in Hell under other names. These monikers include the Dark Digidestined, or simply the Digidestined, and the Emissaries of Darkness, and their roster include a great number of Digimon-human partnerships. Though I am not certain, I suspect that at least Lilithmon has some form of access to alternate worlds among the Great Demon Lords, for among her minions is the Human Spirits of Ice and Fire."

Undisguised surprise flashed on the bared faces of Ophanimon and Cherubimon.

"That would not be greatly surprising, were it true," informed the knight. "For those of us with coding prowess, journeying between the planes of the multiverse is not a complex or taxing thing to do."

"Oh," ohhhed Susanoomon. He had not been aware of that.

"So," spoke Seraphimon, "to summarize your findings, the Dark Area of this reality is a plane onto itself that is governed by a cabal of highly powerful demons who have had uncountable eons to bolster their might and who individually command mighty armies, and that potentially possess access to the multiverse. Is this assessment of matters correct?"

Norn breathed, a bit taken aback by how lightly Seraphimon was talking about the matter. "Yes, it is."

"Good," responded the archangel of law and order. "For a moment, I almost believed that this might pose a problem."

Susanoomon wasn't sure if that was a joke; it was the best flat-irony delivery the Warrior of Heaven had heard, if so.

"You seem unconvinced, Lady Norn," noted the armored Mega.

"Yes, I am," admitted the female deity. "You fail to fully grasp the magnitude of the situation. While Susanoomon and I explored the Dark Area, we went to eleven continents. We came across thousands of Mega-level demons, and lots of species that we had never seen before. The Ultimates, Champions and Rookies outnumbered even the Megas considerably, maybe a hundred-to-one."

"In short," seconded the brightly-hued warrior, "the forces of the Dark Area might well be too numerous to fight, and possibly without end in the most literal sense after all this time."

Quietude ensued. While the archangels processed that information, their expressions remained stoic.

"I see," the uneasy silence was dispelled by Ophanimon. "Is there any particular significance to these people being entitled 'Great Demon Lords'?"

"Yes, actually," replied Susanoomon, "I was somewhat wondering how to approach that topic. It appears to be that, beyond the Dark Area, there exists a multitude of what the demons on their plane tend to call 'Hell Dimensions', or in more mundane parlance, demon realms or Hells."

"Most commonly, the term is used to mean worlds that are ruled by a demon at the Digivolution level of Mega, such as a Gulfmon or Tactimon, who holds the title of Demon Lord, over the demonic population in his or her realm. The Dark Area's ruling group is distinguished from the more common Demon Lords by their far vast power and authority, hence the signifier 'Great' in their title," explained the Warrior of Heaven.

"In essence," said Seraphimon, "I can add to my summation that we would also be facing a number of worlds of manifest evil, if we chose to go to war with them."

Cherubimon eyed him uncertainly. "Are we to initiate a war, even against Hell? What would that make of us?"

"What other options are there?" inquired Seraphimon. "That we stand indolent and allow all the evil in the world to prosper? That we do nothing while the powers of Hell grow even greater than the unfathomable extremes they have already reached? What is the purpose of us knowing all this if we do nothing about it?

Once more, there was silence in the chamber. Once again, Ophanimon's toneless voice drove it back. "You have both made valid points, and I see no cause to take one side over another."

"To continue the report," spoke Susanoomon, with raised voice, "we also observed a number of Hells that currently exist. One realm is governed by someone called Millenniummon - a Mega of the Nightmare Soldiers category and of the Virus Attribute, unknown Digivolution history, unknown personal history. He has a human partner, strangely enough."

Seraphimon hmmmed curiously.

"A Demon Lord with a partner?" Ophanimon asked what Seraphimon thought. "If I understand correctly, that is surely unusual?"

The blonde goddess answered, "Yes," and continued, "another of the demon realms are under the governance of a Myotismon and an Angewomon, while another is governed by somebody called Cthyllamon. A third of them is called the Dark Ocean."

"Dark Ocean?" parroted Ophanimon. "Does that plane have any connection to the Dark Area, as best you were able to ascertain, because with names such as those, it would not surprise me."

"... and that is, in broad strokes, what the discussion entailed," spoke the archangel of wisdom to the assemblage of angels.

Chapter Text

Kari had expected, in summoning a demon from the pits of Hell, a few things.

She had expected the demon to look monstrous, or perhaps a red-skinned humanoid being with claws and horns and fangs, or something utterly unfamiliar to her. She had expected the demon to be imposing and awe-inspiring, with a presence that could silence mortal humans, with loud and bombastic declarations galore.

She hadn't expected to see a human appear instead.

The brown-haired mage looked her conjuration over for a second time, seeing not the slightest bit of demon about him.

What he was, was a boy around her age with hair that, though it was primarily black, had hints of blue to it. His sole observable garments was a reddish-brown pair of pants and a black jacket worn open over his bare upper body.

"I'm sorry, mister!" the teen was quick to say. "I think I've messed up the summoning ritual. It was supposed to call a demon here, not interrupt your day."

Kouichi grinned. "Well, it worked just fine, then. I'm a demon, and my name's Kouichi."

Kari studied him curiously. "Really?" inquired Kari. "Well, I'm Kari Kamiya, and though it might be kinda obvious, I'm your summoner."

The dark-haired teen inclined his head, a mildly indignant glint in his eyes. "Yeah, of course I am. What, you think I can't be a demon because I look human?"

"Well, not to be rude here," answered the brunette, "but pretty much, yeah. All the texts I checked say that demons are supposed to look weird or different from humans, and you don't."

Kouichi began to turn around, casting a glance around the room. The fiend took note of the summoning circle beneath him, and the absence of anything in the room save the circle and a few bits of runework she'd likely used as mana-containers. It was apparent to him that this was no impulse-act.

Then, her conjured creature turned back to her.

"I'm what you might call a shapeshifter," he informed her, raising his left hand from his jacket-pocket.

The extended appendage began to glow, with midnight-black light. Then, an irregularly-shaped ring of the dark light washed over his hand, down from his wrist-area, and the hand took on the shape of a hollowed-out cranium. What animal, infernal or terrestrial, it had belonged to in life eluded Kari's conscious mind. "Cool."

The glow began again, this time washing over the skull hand from the tip of the lengthy maw. Once that ended, what there was attached to Kouichi's wrist was a rounded lump of flesh that was covered in jet-black feathers, and had a dirty-gold talon sticking out of it.

"And," Kouichi went on, shaking his hand a bit as though to shake some grime off, "if I may ask, why were you trying to summon me in the first place?"

"Just wanted someone to help with my schoolwork," she was quick to admit. He blinked, regarding her uncertainly. "What?"

"So you're telling me," Kouichi began with undisguised surprise, "that you attempted an inter-planar summoning rite, with only your own mana for the job, without a more specific subject for summoning than 'demon from hell' to help you pass a class?"

Kari scratched her cheek, sheepishly. "Well, you make it sound like a bad thing."

He sighed. "Miss Kamiya, in attempting a ritual that could very well have killed you, you've managed to avoid contacting any archfiend or Hell Lord who gladly would've gone along with the summoning for the chance to invade your plane, and you also avoided calling upon a creature from the Deeper Pits. I want your luck."

"It wasn't luck," countered the brunette, allowing herself a moment to take pride in her work. "I'm not exactly a novice, but you can have it anyway once I figure out how to transplant metaphysical properties."

Kouichi almost couldn't wrap his mind around this situation. Fifteen minutes ago, he was in Hell, running for his life away from Lord Purson's hellcat, now he was on an Earth-plane to apparently be the research-subject of a young and overconfident mage who was talking nonsense. "How is this my life?"

Kari's face scrunched over with unhidden worry. "What is it?"

"Nothing," replied Kouichi, flatly. "So, uh, why don't we get started? With the work, I mean."

Kouichi sat down on the chair. The brunette likewise sat down, opposite him. The bedroom around them was quiet and well-furnitured.

"Okay," opened Kari while grabbing a blank piece of paper and a pen off her desk. "I'm doing this report on demonology, so that's where you come in. Mind lending a hand, or claw I guess? What's it like to live in Hell?"

Kouichi gave a shrug. "Not really that different from the Mortal World, I guess. The plane of Hell I'm from is a pretty quiet one, so I can't complain about anything of that."

Her face scrunched over in confusion. "Plane of Hell, wha?"

"It's complicated," he answered without moving from the chair, mentally cursing himself, "and something I'm under orders to not discuss with humans, so, sorry, can't elaborate."

Kari hmmed, jotting it down on the paper. Kouichi noted the gesture. "You really shouldn't write it down; if any Hell-Lord finds out about me letting forbidden knowledge fall into human hands, they'll slaughter every last soul in Hell and on Earth."

Kari had a distinct feeling that this was gonna go down-hill. "Why do I have a feeling this is gonna go down-hill?"

Kouichi rolled his head back, then forward to eyeball her. "You tell me."

"Never mind," Kari decided eventually. "Next question, what do demons look like? A lot of the books tend to contradict each-other, a lot. Or, can't you answer that either?"

Kouichi smiled, amused. "Yeah, I can answer that one. Well, we're pretty much... well, I guess we're all over the place. There's demonic cats and dogs," he began counting on his fingers, "succubuses and incubuses that look like humans, and so does the human-based vampires, and there's ones made out of fire, and all that's just the tip of the iceberg."

Kari glanced at her paper, frowning in thought. After a moment, she jotted down, 'the case appears to be that demonic life involves a great deal of diversity in shape.' "Okay, you say 'human-based vampires', so, does that imply what I think it does?"

"Pretty much," affirmed Kouichi, a bit of a smile on his face yet confusion present in his eyes. "How exactly does this world define vampirism, if I may ask?"

"Undead humans, " summarized Kari. "Yours?"

"Undead forms of anything," disclosed Kouichi. "Ever seen a vampire hellhound?"

A wide grin broke out on her face. "Is that seriously a thing in Hell?"

Kouichi grimaced. "Ooooh, yeah."

Kari glanced at the demon, sensing there was something up here. "Want a moment?"

"No," he answered, closing his eyes for a moment. "I'm good, thanks. Any other questions?"

Eventually, Kari answered, "Yeah. What kinda government does Hell have?"

After a pause, Kouichi informed Kari, "Look, not to be rude here, but you're looking at Hell from the wrong perspective," she responded with a curious look. "Most of the stuff you asked about so far has been rooted in the assumption that demons are all one big whole, that we're all identical products of the same big system, and that's just not true."

Kari paused, to consider that. "Okay," replied the brunette while jotting that down.

Chapter Text

Hell, GranDracmon thought idly as he trotted though the doorway, was a thing of simplified complexity and limitless power. Or, so he would like to think of the thing. It would be a terrible shame if the countless eons of work did prove to be pointless.

The room that the centaurian archfiend walked into was a moderately well-lit and large one - empty both of people and of furniture, of any kind, save for a cylindrical machine; one metre tall and three metres wide, it stood outfitted with dark-hued metal, with a rounded screen of glass atop the thing, and appeared to be built into the floor.

The walls, the ceiling and the floor that surrounded the console weren't much different, being constructed of dark-blue metal and having no features to speak apart from the square-shaped ceiling light. The centaur halted before the computer at the room's center.

Raising a taloned hand, the vampire king poked the screen of their computer. The screen immediately lit up, with lavender radiance.

"Statement," uttered the computer in a gender-neutral voice, "before this system console can be operated, all system security locks must be disengaged. Failure to comply or succeed will result in the uploading of a virus to the user. Proceed, yes/no?"

"Yes," answered GranDracmon, tonelessly. "In order, scan my code for the Darkness Crest, this user identifies as GranDracmon, this user attests to being under no external influences, dodeca."

The machine hummed lowly as it processed that.

"System security lock - designate: Code Transcript Scanning - complete. Result valid," it spoke, in a voice that was flat and sounded of ambiguous gender. "System security lock - designate: Voice Recognition - complete. Result valid. System security lock - designate: User Mind Scan - complete. No known external influences or virus infections have been detected. System security lock - designate: Password - complete. Result valid. Full system access granted. May I lick your wings now, dude?"

The archfiend eyed the computer terminal curiously, blinking once then twice then six times. "I am sorry, I may have misheard you, but... licking my wings?" he gazed idly at his left wing. "I cannot imagine they would taste good."

There was a pause. "Numemon's gonna go down," said the computer, uneasily.

"Indeed," agreed the Dark Sun God, foreign though the name was to him. "Two realms of the divine, four realms of the demonic, and the Cthyllaverse," he spoke aloud, "but will that benefit the Dark World best?"

After a moment, the gears of his mind began to turn.

The conventional metaphor for ethics tended to conflate the moral pole of Good with the element of Light. Conversely, the moral pole of Evil was tied to Darkness. As an extension of the metaphor, Light and Good were tied to the concept of Heaven, while Darkness and Evil were associated with the inverse concept of Hell.

If the Earth concept was to fit into that model, it seemed the case that they should represent the morally gray. Question was, under that metaphor, what the mirror-concept to Earth, the concept of Ocean, represented? It stood to reason that it represented the areas of morality that laid beyond the traditional black-gray-white structure. What else was there left, wondered GranDracmon? Perhaps the absence of morality.

Then, it dawned on a sheepish-feeling GranDracmon that this line of thought didn't relate to the business at hand. "Establish projections for all extant layers, five-hundred kilometer volumes of two-dimensional space, and provide names also."

The computer-screen flashed momentarily, processing the instructions.

Several inch-thin sheets of space in the air above the console were written over by the computer; a multitude of miniature landscapes formed hovering immovably, each one separated by only a short distance yet enough that GranDracmon could tell them apart (a thing only made easier by their identified names).

At the center of each plane, there was an name to be seen, written in orange DigiCode - for the first, Dark Ocean; for the second, Dark Area; for the third, Cthyllaverse; for the fourth, Millennium World; for the fifth, Angewomon's and Myotismon's Hell; for the sixth, World of the Digimon Sovereign; for the seventh one at the top of the stack, Nornworld.

GranDracmon raised his left hand to his mouth, gazing pensively at the array of Darkness World spaces. "Is this arrangement indeed beneficial for the Dark World?"

He made a sighing sound, lowering his hand again. There was nothing wrong about it, thought the vampire king, but simply not being wrong did not also make it right.

On one claw, a great deal of the Dark World either came directly from the old multiverse - the ultimate archfiend and the name of Ogudomon's Hell, and Lilithmon's Dark Digidestined, and the legend of the humans - or else was inspired by something from worlds in it. On the other, they were all more tied to the Light of Good; he doubted somewhat they would be able to accept the idea or the presence of the Darkness of Good. It was a rare kind of goodness that was able to truly accept other kinds of goodness.

Perhaps, them simply derived from the Light of Good was enough to expunge them from the World of Darkness. He knew well that the elements of Light and Darkness would inevitably go to war if the possibility existed, regardless of the reasons or the absence of reasons why, so he deemed it better to negate that possibility directly than to set up safe-guards to mitigate the damage.

Another thought soon occurred to him. "Perhaps it would serve the World better, aesthetically, if the demon realm rulers were held to a stricter standard. How can it be construed as a truth that the shadows are a creative and life-bringing force, without anything to affirm that postulate?"

None of the realm-rulers - Ogudomon, Millenniummon and his human, Norn, the Holy Beasts, Angewomon and Myotismon, the Guardians - were truly compiled and hatched of the Dark World, save Cthyllamon. They all originated from some time and place in the Light World.

He almost wanted to laugh bitterly at that. What sort of fool was he that he blindly persisted in a mistake? For millennia uncounted, even? But then, that was not a great surprise - time would, invariably, grant new insights and reveal different perspectives to one and all. It was one of the world's ways.

The vampiric beast refocused his gaze on the world-projections. Much of this had to be done away with, but, thought the centaur, a few choice elements might be worth preserving. "Norn and Susanoomon, perhaps."

"Begin a search of the Dark Area," he commanded, "of fifteen-thousand kilometres worth of three-dimensional space. Tell me which of Ogudomon's aspects there are currently on this plane."

There was a momentary pause, as the machine processed the request. That moment stretched itself further into the better part of a minute, and the room was filled by the terminal's quiet whirring. After a bit, he received an answer.

"The seven sins are all present and accounted for in the specified volume of the specified space," disclosed the computer. "So, uhhh, you wanna know where, or is yes/no fine?"

A smile formed on his face. "That shall suffice, in that regard," he said, and paused to ponder - would it be worthwhile to retain Norn and her partner? The Susanoomon was about as out-of-place in the Darkness World as was possible; GranDracmon had little doubt that the divine warrior's code differed radically from how Digimon in his universe were structured. Their DigiCore likely didn't even have a proper Digivolution Circuit installed.

"Conduct another scan, this time of the seventh plane and within a volume of four-thousand kilometres of three-dimensional space centered around the equivalent of your position," instructed the ruler of the Dark Ocean. "Inform me of the presence of a non-Digimon virtual lifeform and of..." he paused, frowning as it dawned upon him that he had more or less no clue how to identify Susanoomon.

His own categories, he knew - Level: Mega. Type: Demon Beast. Attribute: Virus. Field: Nightmare Soldiers. Susanoomon's? GranDracmon sighed at the mental inquiry, feeling an urge to plunder his wine cellar. "Perhaps a bit of deliberation might shed light on that mystery?"

To rank Norn's guardian-knight as a Mega seemed a reasonable conclusion; most gods, or people who claimed-slash-aspired to divinity, in the Dark World were either at that stage or soon enough dead. "I would only be taking a blind guess at its Attribute and Fields."

"And... what?" asked the terminal, airily.

GranDracmon breathed a sigh. "Identify all non-Digimon lifeforms within the previously specified volume, along with a list of all those whose Level is Mega."

There was a moment's silence. Then, an audible whirr. In front of the layered projection, two images were rendered onto virtual reality. The left, a circular one, depicted a blonde human-appearing creature in a lavish white dress. The right held a list of names, written in Digicode.

His eyeless skimmed the list - Dominimon, Ophanimon, Cherubimon, SlashAngemon, MagnaAngewomon, Susanoomon, Seraphimon- "Ah, there we have the fellow," noted Susanoomon. "Relocate Norn and Susanoomon to the side of an arbitrary lake on the second plane, preferably one away from people."

The machine whirred again.

Elsewhere than the interior depths of their castle, in a different world in fact, on the very edge of a floating city, Norn was sitting, gazing out over the vast terrains northward, with Susanoomon at her side. Then, forces born of the virtual reality-scape acted upon them, and they saw their surroundings warp - what had been a blue horizon was now a blue lake. The Warrior of Heaven and their charge looked around quickly, for an explanation or a possible attacker.

As they saw their sceneries change, GranDracmon observed two tiny shapes make a sharp downwards and northwards trajectory from the seventh plane to arrive on a dark-blue patch on the second, pleased by it. "Delete the seventh plane."

For a moment, there was silence, both in that room of his castle and in the seventh Dark World space. If the split-second collapse of space made any sound at all, it was not one that Seraphimon and Ophanimon and Cherubimon, from their respective positions in that world, could hear - nor was it one that GranDracmon, as the sole observer of the catastrophe, was privy to.

From one moment to the next, that whole world came to its end - a multitude of cities and settlements, thousands of angels who had served Norn and the three archangels who oversaw law and love and wisdom, an abundance of wild and unspoiled nature.

The archfiend watched, nothing in particular on his mind, as the seventh part of the projection faded. "That takes care of that, I suppose."

A moment passed before he had thought of another query. "Are Hikari, Cthyllamon or Ogudomon's aspects present in Millenniummon's Hell? If so, relocate Hikari to this chamber, and any of the other eight to arbitrary locations in the Dark Area."

For a moment, there was silence. It lingered a moment more, disturbed by the electronic hum. Then, another moment went by. GranDracmon counted the minute off in his head. Eventually, the terminal answered. "Nope, they're on the first three."

"No," replied the Dark Sun God indifferently. "Delete planes four and five and six."

In that moment, in their own donated world, Millenniummon and Ryo were standing side by side, gazing out over one of their dominion's lava-oceans. Then, the clock ticked forward a single instant, and their existence ceased. Their surroundings suffered the same fate, as did every creature that served them.

At the same time, in their hell dimension, the angel and the vampire were spending their time in a different fashion. His undead rod were buried between her plentiful bosoms, almost worked to the point of climax. In the very next moment, they experienced technical difficulties in existing.

On the Sovereign plane, far into Zhuqiaomon's territories, the vermilion bird was overseeing a meadow of playing and frolicking and happy young ones. Oblivion descended, consuming one and all in that world. The Digimon Sovereign fell with their charges. The battle between Azulongmon and GrandGeneramon ended without a victor.

In the computer room of GranDracmon's castle, he watched quietly as the projected images adjusted themselves - the upper three faded like mist clearing, the lower three were elevated a bit.

Motionless, the centaur found himself fervently hoping that this sufficed to kill Millenniummon. In theory, it ought to; the Lord of Time's alleged tether to life, his human, had died with him. "Even so," mused the GranDracmon, "Millenniummon was, or perhaps is, one of the greatest powers in Hell. If he survived this, he would likely not be too pleased..."

The worst future scenario he could imagine was Millenniummon miraculously surviving, aware of who had caused what had happened. Hmmming quietly, he then decided to not dwell on it any further. "Remove the picture of Norn, and the list as well, then establish a two-way audio and video link to Cthyllamon's general whereabouts."

The system quickly complied - the circular image dissolved inwards into dying lavender light, the rectangular list flickering momentarily as its text gave way to an image.

An emerald meadow of emerald grasses, GranDracmon beheld in the image. Set against it. Pretty surroundings, thought the archfiend, his daughter had chosen.

Close to the center, and a good distance away, there stood a red-skinned creature, titanically tall. Physically, it resembled a blend of an octopus, a squid, and a human - in all ways save its coloration, identical to the Dagomon species of Deep Saver.

The realm's ruler looked hurriedly around, and to her left, she spotted her sparring partner. About twelve metres away from the tentacled overlady of the realm was something that appeared nothing as much as a mash-up between a Myotismon and a WereGarurumon.

The DigiFused Perfect stood on the trousered legs and large clawed feet of the werewolf, and had also the jacketed upper body and cloak that its vampire half's species were naturally given. The right arm was inherited from the vampire, the left arm was from the werewolf. Both arms were raised before his chest, in anticipation of an impending attack.

"Come on, come on, come on," called the vampiric werewolf to Cthyllamon, punching the air in front of him a few times. "This was getting good, don't let up just yet!"

Cthyllamon affixed the demon with a glare, Then, she gaped up, tacitly announcing, "Static Force,", and released a sphere of red-and-pink energy from her maw. Though it was hurtling at lightning speed towards the werewolf-vampire, and reached where he had been standing in the span of a second, the demonic Perfect evaded it with relative ease and a single jump.

After a moment of watching the battle, GranDracmon spoke, "Relocate Cthyllamon to immediately north of the castle."

On the screen, a light flashed around the scarlet titan and the vampiric werewolf lunged only at thin air. North of GranDracmon's castle, Cthyllamon scanned the wasteland none too concerned by the occurrence, openly wondering "Where in my world am I?" to herself, before noticing her father's castle.

In the computer room, the vampiric archfiend now spoke, "Find all eight individuals tagged with 'Guardians' on the third plane. In their possessions should be one model-Cthylla Digivice per person. Relocate those devices to atop your terminal."

After a bit of minute whirring, a few tri-colore lights flared into existence and then died down unceremoniously. In their wake, three Digivices - rectangular ones. On each side, there was a triangular and a round button. The front was primarily blank screen, surrounded by slate-grey metal - laid on the terminal.

"Very well," supposed GranDracmon. "Three will do. Verify to whether all eleven of Hikari, Cthyllamon, Norn, Susanoomon and Ogudomon's parts are currently within in the Dark Ocean or Dark Area planes. If that is so, reboot the third plane."

Again, the computer's electronic hum was audible. After a moment, every visible nook and cranny of the third layer of the virtual universe began to glow. In the time of a single breath, that world and its every inhabitants and its every visitor went crashing into oblivion. The glow soon died down. What was left behind was a world that, for better or for worse, had yet to know life.

GranDracmon observed his handiwork for a moment, then sent a thought through their mind-link.

On another plane of the Darkness World, far out on a sea of night-colored waters and surrounded by mists, a young brown-haired woman stood atop a disc of lavender light; on this occasion, the Deep One goddess was robed in yellow. Their conversation was quickly concluded, and continued by her being relocated into GranDracmon's office, on the other side of the terminal.

With a tap on his chest, a violet light shone. A faintly-gold-colored object, in the shape of a hexagon that had gotten stretched out, emerged. Behind the glass screen at its center, there was a smaller and rectangular object, adorned with an eight-point star that was hued purple. Dropping into his hand, he tossed the Crest of Darkness to Hikari, who wordlessly caught it.

"Transport myself and Cthyllamon to the third plane," spoke Hikari, while putting the Darkness Crest with its mirror around her neck, to the terminal. GranDracmon watched on as her physical form vanished from sight.

The first that Cthyllamon registered of her new surroundings was the grass - bright, lush, dry beneath her tentacles, motionless. Then, the blue sky, seeming clear of both clouds and foes.

Then, she heard the minute ruffling of the grass patches from her back. The titanic sea-creature spun, quickly seeing a familiar creature standing among the grasses.

"M-mommy?" stuttered the sea-monster, with a voice that sounded coarse and guttural and more intended for breaking things than conversation. "For what reason are you, we, here?"

"Cthyllamon," spoke the yellow-robed woman, smiling yet toneless. Her voice was very much audible to the other eldritch creature. "It seems that your father has decided it was time that you abandoned your support network. Thus, the Cthyllaverse has been rebooted."

The eldritch horror looked well and truly miffed. "But, they were my friends, my greatest comrades, so why? What right did my daddy have to decide this for us? This is, quite frankly, inexcusable," bellowed the beast.

Hikari's gaze softened, into something somewhat apologetic. "You are not wrong to feel indignant over this, but I believe that he was not without reason in this matter. How many centuries, thirty or forty or even more, has it been since you forged yourself from us? In that span, the Guardians have done more to govern this plane and your armies than you have."

Cthyllamon released a brief growl. "That might very well be true," said the red-eyed monstrosity, her tentacles still, "but doing all this is still rather extreme of him. If he sought to make me a more competent conqueror , whyever did he not speak with me about the matter first?"

Now, a smirk adorned the humanoid's face. "I am surprised that you deem that conundrum worth mentioning. You know how Dagomon thinks, and how fond he is of changing that."

Cthyllamon sighed, closing her eyes and dimming their red light somewhat. That was certainly true. Had it really only been two centuries since he had decided to empower every Jungle Trooper he came across because of the act's moral wrongness? Even today, she wasn't sure how that was supposed to make sense.

"But," spoke Hikari, raising her hands up towards the self-titled Goddess of All The World's Evil. Cthyllamon's eyelids flew back, and a curious look was aimed at the creature who was tiny before her. "I did not come merely to relate news on his behalf. We," she stressed the word, "agree that the proper time has come for your Digivolution to continue to the Perfect stage. Do you wish to accept this elevation, Cthyllamon?"

The look on the sea-monster's face shifted, and became uneasy. "I," there was a instant-long pause, "think I am ready, yes."

Hikari smiled. Before her hands, a series of ebon-violet darknesses formed, in the same shape as their representing symbol. Silently, Cthyllamon watched the shadows move through the air and approach her. More and more shadows appeared, and they steadily begun to envelop the Champion.

Cthyllamon's gleeful exclamation, "CTHYLLAMON DIGIVOLVE TO-!", broke the silence, but momentarily. The external-world manifestation of her program turned a pristine white, briefly as it took a new shape. After she had declared her new name, "SHUB-NIMON!" to the meadow for almost none to hear, the whiteness faded from her form.

Hikari studied Cthyllamon's Perfect form with mild surprise. With a quick look down at the red tentacles that comprised her lower body, Shub-Nimon confirmed what she already felt in her body. "Why have I not changed shape?"

"Puzzling, indeed," intoned Hikari. The robed woman began to walk forward, studying the Perfect, fishing the Digivice out. The realm's ruler noticed the device, wondering briefly why her source had what only the Guardians should have had.

The Deep One goddess aimed the device at the Perfect-Leveled thing, and a mass of information soon came onto the screen. "Shub-Nimon, Perfect, Virus, Nightmare Soldiers, Progenitor God, 1.37TB," she read aloud. "There is no attacks listed."

Shub-Nimon decided that this form was a waste of time. "Wait... why am I called a 'progenitor god'?"

Before Hikari could answer, the sound of flapping wings filled the air. Shub-Nimon leaned backwards over, gazing up into the sky. A black-coated fiery bird was leisurely flying away from them.

"I believe that might be the reason why," spoke Hikari. "A fortuitous ability, wouldn't you agree?" thought the posthuman to the Dark Sun God, then noticed that Shub-Nimon's program size had dropped to 1.36TB. "But not without any cost attached, it seems."

Shub-Nimon swung her bulbous head up again, looking at the yellow-robed deity with great surprise. "I created that Saberdramon? And if that is truly so," she added, more to herself than Hikari, "what else is it within my scope to manifest?"

A blunt, deadened noise sounded. Both looked to where it had come from, Shub-Nimon's left side, seeing a gold-colored gear stick out of the soil and grasses. Heedless of the two deities he was in the company of, Solarmon began to hum himself a jaunty tune as he floated away.

After a pause, Shub-Nimon spoke. "I am not sure if that explains everything, or it instead explains nothing."

Hikari chuckled. Dismissing it, the queen of this world turned to the brunette. "Does this conclude our business together on this occasion?"

"No," came her simple answer. The brunette held the Digivice out to the entity who had daughtered herself from her, who eyed it glumly.

It was the last scrap of evidence that her Guardians had ever existed, she knew. She wanted to take it, to cherish it for the memories it embodied, as her own. Trouble was, a device that small would probably just break in her grip.

"I think I shall forge a new casing," said the eldritch horror, while a green-colored MegaKabuterimon was emerging from her right shoulder, "one that is more accomodating to my current size, once I have a new fortress to live in. I will contact you and father then."

Hikari nodded. Then, she turned and began to leave.

"Stop," called the crimson-hued beast, after a brief moment. Hikari turned back around. "We have not spent nearly enough time together as a family this century, so I would like to rectify that, starting now. What say you both?"

Hikari smiled, then two voices spoke. "That sounds very good."

Chapter Text

In a distant village, a pack of Greymon were on their way through, and their leader was enjoying the morning and her meal. For them, life was a quiet affair, conducted peacefully and in the company of friends.

Far out on the ocean, a Leomon was sailing on a boat and passing his time with reflections about the meanings of his life. He had already spent weeks on his journey, and solid ground still seemed distant from where he was.

Deep inside a mountain on a faraway continent, a Kimeramon was conducting that day's training on one of his training courses; the behemoth sought to develop a new attack for himself by the day's end.

Here, in a valley of a mountain range, these things were of no consequence.

The area itself looked very bad off for wear - in many places, the rocky lands were cracked and scorched. Some spots of the valley was experiencing both, and stranger things besides. At the center of thís battlefield, there stood two dragon-knights, back by back, their wings brushing against the other's. One was armored primarily in black, with gold-colored portions adorning the creature's armor. One was armored primarily in blue, with both gold portions and white ones to the armaments.

A massive horde of demons surrounded those four, facing them from every direction that the land and skies let them approach the dragon-knights from. So many of them were that they drowned out most of the sunlight around the dragon-knights.

Mentally, Davis sighed while the claw-hand of Imperialdramon buried its daggers in the stomach of a Myotismon. Whatever he'd expected from his marriage, it hadn't been this. Though, answered a mental voice (he was unsure whose it was, and now was not a time to make sure), his life was measured by the battles he waged - why should this stage of his life be different?

"Davis," called the blue-garbed knight hastily to their battlemates, voice that of a woman, gaze not wavering from the wicked hordes before them. "How're you holding up?

"Been better," answered the dark-armored warrior. "Definitely been better."

"Heheh," the blue dragon-knight's tone was coy, "what say we end this now?"

A bright, almost blindingly so, light shone from them both, and obscured the dragons from demon sight. In the moments that the radiance lingered, all the demons heard their voices announce the names of their Super Ultimate forms. One voice said 'UlforceVeedramon Future Mode' while the other said 'Imperialdramon Paladin Mode'.

The light went away and left were the warriors, but not as they had been.

The blue knight had changed minimally, with a longer wing-span and white markings on their arms and pauldrons. The black knight had changed radically. Every spot of armor that had been colored midnight-black was now sleek-and-polished white, clear and bright like a jewel. Their laser-cannon was gone from their right arm, and the whire sword that they now brandished had taken its place. Everything that had been colored gold remained so, and only magnified the splendor of their appearance.

The reactions of the spectator demons were as varied as they were - some regarded this new development with open panic, and some stood their ground; some smirked broadly, pleased by it; some paid it little heed; some were plain confused over what exactly had happened

Imperialdramon Paladin Mode stepped forward, holding their sword ready in front of them. Then, hell broke loose again.

From all corners, the demonic swarms approached. UlforceVeedramon rushed to meet them, with the incredible speed that their species was known being accelerated to greater extremes by this one being a gods-damned Super Ultimate.

Within a millisecond, the wide-winged knight charged around their battlefield, and dealing blows to their adversaries. From their perspective, the army were no more mobile than statues.

Their first punch was dealt to the lower jaw of a SkullGreymon - then, they raced to an Astamon and delivered a stomach punch - above that one, a DemiDevimon, who received a balled right hand larger square to the face - on its left, there was a trio of Bakemons, who received the same treatment, one blow each - then, UlforceVeedramon moved to the Bagramon that stood directly below them down on the ground, and made a quick series of punches to the Mega's stomach - they made a quick dash around the dome, with their Ulforce Vee-Saber's blade extended, and that sliced a few dozen of assorted demons apart.

Then, the metaphorical clock moved an instant forward, and reality caught up.

The UlforceVeedramon halted its run, reappearing on the left side of the Imperialdramon and facing the other way. A decent number of the demonic AI began executing their reconfiguration programs, and just as many eggs dropped down among the pile that was already there.

A hulking green-skinned brute stepped forward from the flock, calmly noting the demise of his comrades. He smirked, sadistically, to the Imperialdramon. "Come, swordsman. We two shall do battle, in the name of Lady Gulfmon. It shall be truly exquisite when I snap that twig you present as a sword," the Titamon practically cackled, and tightened his grip on his bone-adorned and quietly growling weapon.

They charged at one another, and their swords collided.

"Giga Crusher," said the two conjoined voices as one, breathily. The dragon's maw that was mounted on their chest gaped wide, and out came the barrel of a laser-cannon; it was a thing of dark metal, with a blue prism at the tip and things like tuning forks on the right and the left of the jewel. Titamon had only the brief pause between the center portion of the chest blaster lighting up and the firing of the blast to process the event.

The explosion quickly expanded, engulfing the Imperialdramon in an instant. The nearby UlforceVeedramon was also well within the blast radius, and was swallowed up by the explosion just as it dawned on them what was going down. The air was filled with deafening noise, and the surrounding demon hordes were caught in the fire as well; only a small fraction of them would come to find that they had survived.

UlforceVeedramon panted, unsteady in their stance, and lingering energies dissipated rapidly around them. Their vision cleared rapidly, allowing the two to glimpse the dark-armored figure in vivid detail.

"Y'know, sweetie-pie," the woman's tone was pointed, and saccharine to the point of excess; the dragon-knight's face glowered. The paladin didn't look at her, a guilty look in their eyes. "I don't particularly appreciate people attempting to blow my everything out, much less you, and I would kinda appreciate it if you two could just never do it again."

The Bio-Merged Imperialdramon had not a moment to speak, for a thunderous noise rang over them. The four jerked their two heads to the left, immediately seeing another demon-horde approach - a handful of hundreds, of every shape and size and Digivolution Level, emerging from a reprogrammed sheet of space reaching far up in the air.

Among them was a VenomMyotismon, and with her every step, the ground trembled beneath the two dragon-knights. From the bony maw of a SkullGarurumon, the order echoed, "ANNIHILATE THEM", across the battlefield.

Deep in a wasteland in a Digital World, an unusual encounter was taking place now.

The fourteen-year-old Davis Motomiya stood flanked by his Digimon partner and a few of his comrades, mouth open, taking in the sight of the man - short well-kempt hair, dark hoodie-jacket and a brown pair of pants, the D3 that laid unseen in his pocket.

The twenty-nine-year-old Davis Motomiya looked back at himself, flanked by his wife and his partner and his wife's partner - flame-patterned jacket and shorts and gloves and goggles around his head, messy maroon hair, a D3 absently clutched. Hawkmon was regarding the woman beside him with a bit more of curiosity - a green-haired lady whose current choice of clothing was a hoodie-jacket that matched his and a pair of blue-colored jeans.

"I'm sure," opened the man, dispelling the silence, "that you guys have a lot of questions about who we are and why we're here. Well, that's kind of a long story."

Tai grinned. "Well, we've got time, and I wanna hear this."

Paildramon and Davis exchanged quick looks, then Rina spoke. "Less time than you think, Tai," her tone was one of mixed amusement and light exasperation. "The quicker we put an end to this, the better."

Yolei sighed. "Could you maybe ditch the cryptic act, and, just a thought, tell us what 'this' is?"

Rina looked to the other two, and, with a shrug, said, "Why not? They probably can help us here."

An uncertain look was in his eyes. "Okay, then," he responded, then fixed his gaze directly on his younger self. Though the teen felt a bit self-conscious, he made a mental note to not blink. "You guys have probably figured out who I am."

"You're me," answered Davis, right on the spot.

The man released an amused semi-scoff. "Yeah, I am, from about fifteen years into your futures, the year 2019," he disclosed, then grinned. He pointed a thumb to himself, "check out the awesomeness here, Davis Motomiya, this is how you grow up."

Davis looked his future self over, not sure if he was impressed by himself.

"I know," spoke the lime-haired woman, audibly entertained, "and I love it," before addressing the present-day Digidestined. "I'm his wife, Rina Motomiya."

Silence took a chokehold over the area. Yolei looked dubiously at the woman. The maroon-hair Digidestined's mouth was agape. Tai gave a shrug, thinking nothing much of that. Veemon looked confused.

"And me," Paildramon punctured the silence, with the voice of ExVeemon, "you guys already know. The reason we're here is that there's trouble brewing."

The look on Taichi's face darkened. "I think that we kinda figured that out already. What kind of trouble?"

It was Davis who answered. "An Arkadimon nest, somewhere on the continent," upon seeing the lack of comprehension on their faces, he then added grumblingly, "nasty little critters," he paused, pondering his further phrasing of the point. "Imagine an army of Apocalymon or Daemon, or Diaboromon," voiced Davis-the-older, sternly. On the faces of the younger Digidestined formed expressions of unease and dissatisfaction. "Yeah. Though it would be preferable to nip this in the bud, the situation's still manageable if one or two happen to hatch."

Rina sighed inwardly, feeling a twinge of regret for them come over her. This sort of thing, thought the green-haired woman, should not be their fight.

"So, hold on here," voiced Veemon, looking and pointing at Paildramon. "You're me?"

The dragon-insect chimera gave his younger and shorter self an amused look. "Yeah. Suffice to say, the years have done a lotta good."

"CEASE THIS PRATTLING, YOU FOOLS!" bellowed a female voice. The entire group, younger and older, turned leftwards. Not too far away, they beheld a demonic creature. White-skinned was the being, with a slender figure beneath a black suit that was crafted of leather. A pair of blood-colored eyes glared daggers at them.

Davis-the-older took a step forward towards her. Paildramon watched the LadyDevimon woman, tensing in anticipation. "Are you the one responsible for the nest?"

"Indeed," snarled the demon, raising her arm towards him. "Know that none of you wretched creatures, whatever you be, shall stand in my way. The eggs will soon hatch, then your worlds shall burn, and my Hell will be forged from the ashes. Submit now, and you shall be allowed to live as my slaves."

Davis-the-older felt inclined to roll his eyes at that. "Fat chance!" hollered Davis-the-younger. "We'll take you down."

LadyDevimon shot him a glare.

"And she will be," Davis-the-younger heard Rina's voice, "but right now, we've got to find those eggs. My Davis and Paildramon can handle her."

Surprise flashed over the LadyDevimon's face, and then she released a mocking laugh. "Think you so, stranger? Then let me present these two warriors with my best form. LadyDevimon Digivolve to-!" announced the demon, before the tell-tale glow of Digivolution coated her body and she began to expand.

"Davis," called Paildramon, charging forward. Davis-the-older was quick to follow. After a moment of running, the present-day Digidestined heard him announce, "Bio-Merge activate!", and a bright flash of light erupted, consuming both partners of that pair.

"What's he doing?" wondered Agumon aloud as the reptile watched both transformations proceed. The answer came before anyone around the Rookie could, from the light dying down and the sight of a familiar dragon in jet-black armor standing in the wasteland. "Oh, that. Does anyone know what that is?" he looked around at the others.

"I'm afraid I don't," answered Hawkmon at the same time as Yolei said, "Beats me."

"Check it, guys," bragged Davis, pointing eagerly at the Mega. "That's gonna be me someday."

Rina chuckled, deciding against informing them about their multitude of reality-iterations, eyeing the still-glowing-and-expanding LadyDevimon who had already reached giant proportions.

"Something's up," thought the human half of the dragon's mind. "How can she still be Digivolving, just what is that LadyDevimon's Mega?"

The answer came to them a moment later, when the light of the Digivolution faded.

On a quadrupedal body of melting white-skinned flesh, the monstrosity stood, about sixty metres tall and about equally as long, and blotting the sun out from both Imperialdramon and the ones behind the armored dragon. Four different arms were attached to its sides, none resembling the torso of the titanic beast. The head was that of a red-scaled dragon, as was its upper torso whereas its lower torso was plated in a cylinder of dark-green steel. At the front of the quadrupedal body supporting the mishmash body, there was an eyeless face and a massive mouth filled with yellow fangs that was growling lowly.

"Fools who dared to oppose me," cackled the voice of the LadyDevimon, "meet your killer. Meet GrandGeneramon."

The Imperialdramon glared. "No," replied Veemon. "This is dumb. You're dumb. I'm quitting your BS."

So saying, they followed it up with, "Imperialdramon Mode Change to," the dragon glowing, metamorphosing, and solidifying into a dragon-knight in shining white armor who brandished a sword, "Paladin Mode," and charged towards the titanic demon.

Chapter Text

It had begun in 2004, on a July day like every other. Daemon's return had been unexpected, and his conquest of the Digital World swift. It couldn't really have gone otherwise - after the Dark Masters incident, the individual Digimon were both too lacking in strength and experience to fight an extended war. Ultimates and Megas were in short supply among the populace, as were warriors dedicated enough to heighten their strength beyond what their species naturally was given.

Daemon had invaded their world, with forces so great in number that they could overrun the whole planet and so great in strength that nobody really had a chance to beat them all back. The occasional victory, such as the slaying of a hellhound or a vampire, had been achieved, certainly, but the battle had been lost just the same.

Of the world's guardian gods, the Harmonious Ones, nothing had been seen. Some believed that they had been the first to fall in the battle against the archfiend, and more optimistic souls believed that they had managed to win their charges some small victory - both they and Daemon would refrain from taking an active stance in the war, and not fight one another to the death.

Whatever the cause and the truth behind their absence - the effect was the same: The Daemon Corps had freedom to do whatever they pleased, be as horrible as their rotten hearts desired.

As for the Digidestined, the twenty-four young heroes who could well be expected to come to this world's defense, there wasn't much to say. Against all the powers and soldiers that Daemon commanded, they had been found as lacking as everyone else, and become scattered to the winds. Most of those pairs of warriors had come to take residence somewhere in the world, becoming the guardian of that place. Sora and Biyomon, for instance, had voyaged out west, and found themselves a tiny village to defend. Patamon and his human, on the other hand, were simply adrift on the Folder continent.

The disrobed archfiend turned, to regard the demons.

Close to the center of the bedroom, a trio of identical demons - violet-skinned humanoids who wore red gloves and a single scarf a person - were genuflecting, their eyes closed. "It has been done as you commanded, our eternal liege," spoke the middle one, her voice solemn. "This plane is yours now."

The maroon-furred devil chuckled, motionless. From the bed, Bagramon studied them nostalgically, recalling his own days as an Impmon. "Tell me," spoke their master, a hoarse rasp, "I'm curious. How long have you three served me?"

The left-side Impmon's eyes darted open with surprise, and she raised her head. "I... I have been your soldier for six years," she disclosed. "I have journeyed far, and fought many battles, done all that you command as best I was able."

Daemon smirked, fangily. "That's certainly good to hear, Impmon. What of you two?"

"I've been your minion for about ten years," replied the sole guy among them, the right-side Impmon.

The middle one spoke, without moving or opening her eyes, "About seven years, my lord."

"Then," answered the Mega, "it is time for you to be rewarded for your fealty, wouldn't you all agree? If you want, I'll make all three of you Champions, right here and now. What say you?"

The green, emerald, eyes of the other two now opened as well. All three were reduced to speechless staring.

"Lord Daemon," breathed the middle one, the first one to speak. It took her a moment to regain her composure. "I humbly accept, master."

The right and left Impmons returned smirks that spoke volumes. "I accept, my lord," affirmed the left one.

Daemon focused his mind's eye, curious to see what they received from the great lottery that was Digivolution.

By the gifts imparted upon the archfiend by the Crest of Wrath, their DigiCores were bared to him, the facts and figures of their respective programs visible to him within his mind - their respective data-quantities (barely fifty gigabytes between them, he read), then their level (Rookie) and class (Nightmare Soldier) and attribute (Virus) below that bit of dark-colored text, then their techniques - two of them had only the ones typical of their species, the other had developed a technique called Infernal Frost Crossbow -then the familiar sequence of their forms.

For the Impmon on the right, Daemon observed Witchmon as his Champion, followed by BurningGreymon and then Reapermon. For the middle Impmon, the sequence, BlackGatomon-Mephistomon-BlackMetalGarurumon. For the left-side one, the form of Devimon which was followed by Cerberumon and then ended by Megidramon.

"Oh," he breathed, sounding amazed to their ears. "You are all such beautiful, splendid tiny things, aren't you?"

The right-side Impmon bashfully scratched his cheek at the compliment, earning him teasing looks from the other two. Bagramon scoffed from the bed at their little display.

"Here, have your present," said Daemon, while raising his left hand at them. The Digital World symbol for rage appeared before his palm, orange and bright. From that glyph emerged a mass of shadow, hued deep-violet.

The smoke-like substance moved by itself, towards the three imps, and both enveloped and infused them. Daemon and Bagramon both served as audience, quietly, as the virtual archfiend's code and simple command was uploaded into them. Their bodies lit up, with white radiance, then their glowing bodies began to morph into new forms.

The glowings died down, as quickly as they had begun.

Where the right-side Impmon had stood, there stood now something very similar to a human woman who was garbed in a red dress and whose hands were very big compared to her stature and whose sole piece of equipment was the broom he sat upon.

The Impmon to the left had, unlike the other two, become a fairly large cat with fur as black as midnight. The demonic cat's eyes were a piercing, icy shade of gold, and her paws were coated in purple gloves that left her onyx-hued claws bared.

The middle one had likewise transformed, into a tall and lanky humanoid with a horned head, red eyes, and arms that were almost as long as she was tall. Her lean and well-muscled body was dressed, almost from horn to toe, in jet-black leather. A very large pair of black wings jutted out of her back.

Witchmon moved to bow before Daemon. "Thank you humbly for these gifts, your majesty. We shall not fail you, not ever again."

Daemon regarded him simply. "No, I don't expect so," he paused for a bit before speaking again. "How does joining Mervamon's contingent for a bit sound? It is far from an exciting job, but it would be a good opportunity to get accustomed to your new bodies and powers."

The demon and the witch briefly exchanged looks. "I think that I speak for all of us," replied the demon cat, in a tone that brooked no argument, "when I say that we're in."

Phelesmon smirked, following the running human with his gaze, and the familiar creature flying beside him in particular. "Whatta ya figure that Tsukaimon-looking thing is?" voiced the red-hued fiend to his companion.

On his right, a bipedal demon with the horns and legs of a ram, and a short pair of jet-black wings off her back, replied. "A species from this world, I suppose," and then noted, "doesn't really look like a demon, though," off-handedly.

"Yup, yup," agreed the trident-brandishing Ultimate. "Not really liking that shade of orange. So, you wanna take care of 'em, or...?"

Mephistomon thought it over, for a moment. Then, she broke into a run, towards the Hope pair. It took about a minute for the demon to catch up with Patamon and his human.

Gasping, jumping startled, TK barely avoided falling over as he changed direction, towards his right. He spotted a canyon entrance a distance ahead, and reflexively, aimed for it. A frantic cry of his name made him stop mid-stride. Uneasily, he turned around, already suspecting what he would see.

His eyes focused on the Mephistomon's left hand, where Patamon was wincing and squirming. A grimace of panic and disgust adorned the blond human's face, as the memories of their battle on File Island played out in his head.

"Now, then," Mephistomon opened, jovially, "we have introductions to do. I'm Mephistomon, soldier in the Daemon Corps. Who might you two be?"

TK gaped momentarily, then his face twisted into a scowl, and he balled his hands.

"You- you... you're insane. You're all the same, all you Digimon who accept the powers of darkness into your hearts. You don't care about anyone else, you think the world just exists so that you can do whatever you want, isn't that right?" he demanded, semi-growling. "All in the name of good fun, right? WELL YOU'RE WRONG, and we're going to stop you right here and now," so saying, he raised his D3. "PATAMON DIGIVOLVE!"

Mephistomon blinked, then did that once again, before seeing a bright white light in her hand. Patamon's rapidly-expanding external shell quickly broke her grip, and was tossed aside. "What the Hell is this dude on about? Powers of darkness? Does he have a virus? Is it a metaphor?"

In the span of her thought, Patamon completed his ascension. An angelic being had taken his place, dressed in immaculate white and gold, a single staff with him to serve as his weapon. Mephistomon studied the angel briefly, finding the unknown creature displeasing.

"TK is right," announced Angemon, readying his weapon, "and for everything that Daemon and his minions have done to this world, for everybody who's suffered because of you, you will pay. May you know kindness in your next life."

Mephistomon glared at the angel, very much not impressed. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen, because you know what's really funny here?" she waited a moment, looking between Angemon and TK, for a response. None such came, though. "It's the fact that you two are walking disgraces to all Digimonkind, yet you both still think that you have any grounds for lecturing me on anything."

Angemon gasped, and gaped for a moment. "Excuse me?"

"No, I won't," said the goat-demon, simply. She pointed towards the human of Hope.

"Look at yourself. Do you think you're a warrior, or a hero, someone worth admiring? You are wrong - all you are is a parasite, a wretch who knows nothing of dignity or self-reliance, and that," she raised her balled fists, "is why you're doomed to die by my hand, stranger. BLACK SABBATH!"

A ball of energy, black as midnight, shot from her right hand. Reflexively, the floating angel moved his staff to parry that; though the staff held against it, and deflected it as well, he was pushed back a fair distance through the air by the blast. Another handful blasts followed that one, and Angemon moved to parry them as best he was able.

TK screamed his partner's name as the angel was battered by the demonic energy-balls, petrified by the sight. After almost a minute of sustained fire, Mephistomon ended her assault, and began a walk over to the egg of her fallen foe.

With a call of his name from his best friend's maw, Phelesmon moved into action. TK glared, resolutely, defiantly, at the devilish one who approached him. "You'll never win, not really," spat the teen. His next utterance was a shriek of agony, mixed with the sound of tearing flesh.

With an uneasy gesture, Phelesmon withdrew his pitchfork from his stomach.

"Did you hear this guy?" called Mephistomon, the fragments of an egg underhoof. Phelesmon eyed her curiously. "What was he even talking about with that 'darkness' stuff?"

Phelesmon shot her a grin. "Who knows? This plane's Digidestined are weirder than Lilithmon's," he paused a moment, to scan the area. Nowhere that he looked in the wasteland was there anyone else to see. "Bo-ring," he complained.

Chapter Text

Daemon stood, but not alone.

Before him, his armies, his legions, his Corps stood ready. Behind him, there were two of the humans, Yolei and Davis, and Valkyrimon who stood guarding his partners.

In a single line, Daemon's favored few companions stood as the vanguard of the evil army. A Mervamon, sword and snake-arm at the ready, at their center; a Bagramon and a Phelesmon to both the warrior woman's sides. Further along that row, there were a DarkKnightmon and a BurningGreymon, and to the BurningGreymon's left, there stood a Cerberumon.

Behind those six, Daemon's hordes stood, almost all eagerly anticipating their coming march. They were a living testament to how broad the concept of "demons" was, for the majority of them were distinct from others among their bunch in some manner.

A number of the species among this gathering - LadyDevimon, Devimon, SkullSatamon, Murmukusmon, and others too - were by reputation angels who had fallen from grace, though the ones in Daemon's army had never served such a role in their current lives. Almost in contrast to that notion, many of the others there were creatures of fearsome appearance and power, each race of demon as distinct as the colors of the rainbow.

However, the Nightmare Soldier species that contributed to nearly half of Daemon's soldiers were unknown to him, which he found pleasing. What could be better than the knowledge that Hell could be counted on to prosper?

Dagomon turned away from the viewing portal, a course of action brewing in his mind. Oblivious to the departing spectator, Daemon began to speak.

"We are gathered here, comrades in arms, for one simple purpose," he announced, voice raised highly, to the infernal army. "That purpose is war, everlasting. Our eternal war will be waged on every kind of battlefield on every plane of existence, against every kind of adversary, until every one of you have had your thirsts for battle and power thoroughly slaked. Now, I will let all who desires otherwise have a moment to speak up."

Silence abounded. More than a few looked uncertainly, either at their boss or at the thin air. Behind him, the DNA Mega watched the archfiend almost quizzically.

"Master," spoke a voice that Daemon recognized as Crocemon's, "surely you do not expect that any of us does not share your desires?"

To the surprise of most demons save the ones in the front row, Daemon released a light chuckle. "No, I do not, but you see, Crocemon, this little outing is for your benefit and for the benefit of every demon in my employ. We are here so that you can all do anything and everything that you please, to your Core's content," he paused, to gesture with his opened right hand to Bagramon. "Tell us, Bagramon, what do you desire?

Bagramon's lips pursed into a contemplative frown. Now that he thought about the matter, what did he seek? "I suppose that I'm a typical demon, boss," admitted the Mega, sheepishly. A few amused snickers escaped other demons in the hundreds-strong army. "And so, I just want to kill and conquer whatever I can in this life."

"Most satisfactory, Bagramon," commended Daemon. Then, he moved his clawed hand to Mervamon. "What do you seek?"

"My lord," the warrior's tone was stern, "I am but a soldier, and I serve to slay your every foe with the weapons at my disposal. As such, as you very well know," her tone grew moderately chiding, "I would content myself with the mightiest adversaries to pit myself against."

Daemon pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "You can take that one in a moment, then," he then pointed the third-row BladeLadyDevimon out. "What do you desire?"

"Murder," ran the BladeLadyDevimon's answer.

Then, Daemon looked up at the DarkShineGreymon that stood at the very end of the assemblage, where it towered over most other demons present. "And what do you want, DarkShineGreymon?"

The dragon in the blue-and-white-and-black armor looked bashfully at her master. "I dunno," she responded, a smidge uneasy about it. "I guess I just wanna kill people, I guess."

"Then I promise you," spoke the Demon Lord, "that you shall have never-ending hordes to slaughter, in this world and the ones beyond."

Glee showed in the DarkShineGreymon's eyes. "Really, master?"

"Absolutely," responded Daemon, warmly. Then, he turned around, to regard Davis, Valkyrimon and Yolei. "Now, as for you," there was a coy edge to his tone, "you place yourselves in opposition to all evil, don't you?" Daemon didn't bother waiting for an answer. "Well, what you face today is the Daemon Corps, Hell's finest and most numerous band of warriors. I assure you, nothing you've faced remotely compares to our like."

Davis simply glared. "Put a sock in it. We're not here to listen to your 'oh we're from Hell and we're so super-ultra-duper scary' speeches. We're just here to stop you."

The DNA Mega swordsman drew their sword, as Mervamon walked forward. "Guys, run," they called to their humans, in both voices.

"Don't get your hopes up," deadpanned the swordswoman, mid-stride. "None of you will walk away from this," she raised her broadsword, directly at Valkyrimon, and then charged ahead.

Through the forest, Kari and Gatomon ran, neither really hearing the odd branches and leaves that got caught underneath. Mocking, angry laughter rang out to them as Infermon raced to keep up.

All of a sudden, the brunette felt a cold breeze come over her. Almost at the same time, the forest clearing ahead ceased to be there. In the blink of an eye, a monochrome seemingly-neverending beach appeared before her.

Her eyes widened with panicked recognition of the place before, as she stumbled and fell into the sand, face-first. The voice of Gatomon anxiously calling her name went mostly unnoticed by the teen, something that the taste of the sand did little to help.

"Are you okay?" asked Gatomon. The cat's voice wasn't the only one that they heard ask that question. Gatomon felt her skin curl at the sound of that voice. As Kari rolled over on her back, Gatomon turned her head to look the same way.

There, a short distance away on the beach, they saw a blue-skinned tentacled creature that Gatomon remembered as a Dagomon, watching them with concern in its eyes.

He decided that an informal demeanor might serve him better now. "Never mind the formalities, shit is going down."

A bitter laugh rose up from Kari's throat. That was an understatement - TK, Patamon, and she didn't know how many of the others, were dead, and Daemon had as good as won anyway.

Gatomon wondered what 'shit' meant.

"Sorry to be so cryptic and crap, but right now, actions speak louder than words," spoke the Dark Sun God.

Kari's confusion over what he meant was almost immediately replaced with the sight of pitch-black water around her. More than anything, she wanted to scream, but her voice didn't cooperate.

"Don't fight the shadows, Kari," she heard two voices - one almost exactly her own, one as unlike her own as possible - speak to her. "Embrace them, let their energies flow through you and strengthen you as your own element already does."

A gasp escaped her throat. Gatomon watched her with worry, unsure of what exactly was going on. Then, Kari began to glow. Again, the brunette heard the voice speak in her head.

"Execute program: DigiCore Upload from system-designate-Hikari to system-designate-Kari-Kamiya. Reformat recipient system: No. Reboot recipient system: No. Integrate active-consciousness programs: Yes. I advise that you prepare to receive a headache."

Kari blinked. Then, she felt something in her head that she was unsure what was. Then, memories began playing in her mind.

She remembered fighting Dagomon, for control of the Dark Ocean, on little more than a whim. She remembered paying a visit to the Tamer Union with GranDracmon a week ago too, and leaving a world egg behind to consume that timeline. She remembered spending her morning on making love to Dagomon (on her back, she half-felt the caress of a tentacle), before another day of reverence. She remembered seeing Gatomon Digivolve to Magnadramon in Reapermon's interdimensional battle tournament, long ago. She remembered Gatomon Digivolving to Ophanimon to fight VenomMyotismon, long ago. She remembered so much it made her head hurt. She remembered when the Deep Ones invaded their home in 2008. She remembered when the Deep Ones invaded their home in 2009. She remembered the time where the Deep Ones invaded their home in 2004. She remembered what dying felt like. She remembered, of her years as a god, the sensation that accompanied facing the collective forces of eighty different hell-dimensions. She remembered fighting the Digimon Empress, Yolei Inoue, and her Machinedramon. She remembered wandering about in Innsmouth, just dithering about and thinking to herself and practicing her coding skills. She remembered when Dagomon removed most of the dimensions from Hell. She remembered her last meeting with Norn and Susanoomon, many years ago. She remembered educating her mortal selves about the particulars of three-dimensional time and their existential cycle. She remembered exiting both space-time structures, the Light World and the Dark World, to just relax and watch the many exploits of the Digidestined from afar.

Her hand reached for her temple.

"Oh, my head," she bemoaned. How she was supposed to keep track of all that, she hadn't a clue. Through her fingers, she saw the worried face of her Digimon. "I'm okay, Gatomon," the brunette said, lowering her hand, managing a mild smile. "I've just learned a few things I'll benefit from knowing, if we're going to stop Daemon."

"Oh good," deadpanned the feline, "because I have no idea what's going on here."

The pink-dressed teen shrugged. "It's... ehhr," she trailed off for a moment, "it's really complicated," on the other hand, Gatomon deserved to know this stuff if she did. Still, how exactly was she supposed to explain the whole situation without several hours of preparation and multiple charts?

Dagomon scoffed. "I'll say. Suffice to say, Gatomon, that some things are eternal because they linger while other things are eternal because they recur," she shot him a 'keep going, genius' look. He rolled his eyes.

"Time moves in strange ways, in your universe. It flows backwards, forwards, sideways, up and down, from every moment and pathway in history," exposited the Dark Sun God to the cat. "Here in the World of Darkness, we're free from all that time travel bullcrap," he paused, to ponder his next statement. "Actually, just gonna drop the news on ya: This little disaster isn't the first time that Daemon's mobilized his forces and come from the World of Darkness to conquer your worlds. Time and time again, he's come here from Hell to conquer and destroy worlds in your universe, with his army behind him."

Gatomon blinked twice, staring anxiously for a moment. "Okay then," she voiced. "An insane situation, and a super-powerful demon around whose butt needs some kicking. What else is new?"

Kari didn't answer. She simply turned towards the oil-like waters, gazing almost like she was mesmerized at the home of the Deep Ones.

"Gatomon," she called, softly, to the cat, without turning to look at her. Gatomon looked, almost quizzically and vaguely wary, at her human. Kari turned to face her, moving her hand to the cat's forehead. "Are you ready?"

"Ready?" parroted the cat. "Ready for what?"

The answer came not in verbal form, but by the glowing girl smiling. All of a sudden, Gatomon felt herself began to change. In her heart, she felt the words press themselves out of her, "Gatomon Warp-Digivolve to-!"

For a moment, the Gatomon woman glowed more brightly than her human did, enveloped utterly in white light as she metamorphosed. Then, the light of Digivolution faded away, and what stood there was a many-winged angel in sleekly-polished blue-green armaments, who brandished a lance and a shield and a bared midriff.

The call of this form's name, Ophanimon, rolled off her tongue mostly instinctively.

"Kari," called the faux-Celestial, taken aback by her new form, "what did you just do? Not that I'm complaining," a grin grew on the helmet-uncovered part of her face.

Kari didn't answer her, instead turning to Dagomon, who looked almost plaintively back.

"You don't need to go," said the aquatic god-monster. "We can send Ophanimon in to do the job, maybe with the Knights or some of the Emissaries or plain recruit some demon from the Dark Area to call Daemon to heel."

Kari smiled, and sighed almost inaudibly. "I know. You know that I have to."

He supposed he could live with that. Being second-place in her heart still meant that he had a place. She turned to Ophanimon, a stern look in her eyes. "Let's go, we have a universe to save."

Chapter Text

Ophanimon was all for that. Kari turned towards the water, silently, eyes pensive.

For a moment, there was naught but quietude there on the beach, and not much motion from any of the three gathered there. For a moment, nobody said anything.

"Dagomon," voiced Kari, breaking the silence, "can you go delete the Dark Area?"

The squid-like bloke hmmed, deciding not to ask; he thought it much more fun to see her plan unfold without a sneak peek, though he could somewhat guess what he believed her foremost intention with that.

"Sure thing," answered Dagomon, lightly amused.

"Dark Area?" parroted Ophanimon mentally. She knew what it was, but the afterlife's relevance escaped her for the situation.

The noise of steel breaking sounded, and then, Valkyrimon screamed. Mervamon smirked, triumphantly. Yolei and Davis watched on, distraught and a fair bit pissed too, as the DNA Mega reverted back down into the In-Training form of his fusion materials.

The swordswoman charged at the defenseless quartet, her sword hefted high. None of them barely had time to react. Her blade hit the dome of crystal-like lavender light that had spontaneously formed around them. Surprise showed on the faces of both assailant and would-be victims; on the Mervamon's, a note of panic as well, at the sight of the girl among them.

"Are you guys okay?" Mervamon wanted to laugh at the idea of her, the Deep One goddess of Light, Creation, Destruction, Life and Death, seemingly being concerned with these people like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Ophanimon bit back a grimace. Ahead, behind Daemon, she saw more Digimon than she could count, some of species that she knew and many more that she didn't. "There must be thousands of them. This is not going to be an easy victory."

"Yeah," responded Davis, looking the angel Mega over, "but what's up with Angewomon?"

"Kari did something," she exposited to the quartet of her fellows, "I'm not sure what, but I Digivolved to Mega. The form's name is Ophanimon."

Yolei looked bemused. "Doesn't surprise me, she's always been weird."

The brunette in the blue-jacket-and-red-skirt ensemble looked sheepish. "I've just remembered a lot of stuff I didn't know I'd forgotten. It's a really long story, and I'll explain everything after I've cleaned this," she raised her hand, pointing to Daemon's posse, "up."

All five of them now looked dubiously at the brunette.

"You?" said DemiVeemon and Yolei in unison.

"Me," confirmed the brunette. It didn't surprise her that it surprised them.

A purposeful frown on her face, she strode forth, the barrier vanishing silently. The five looked, with uncertainty and worry in their eyes, after their friend.

Daemon almost wanted to laugh, as she came to a halt. "Is a storm of hellfire and light how you want to begin the fall of this world?

"No, Daemon," replied Kari, almost conversationally. Her eyes went past the Demon Lord, to the Bagramon. "I'm just here to clean up the last of the Dark Area's demons."

Mutters and not-so-quiet wonderings broke out among the demon horde behind Daemon. Outrage flashed in the eyes of the robed archfiend. The brunette half-expected them to charge at her.

"What in Hell are you getting at?" growled Daemon, over the voices of a handful other demons. "You of all beings should know that Hell is eternal."

Kari smirked, triumphantly. "Oh, Hell is. The Dark Area, not so much, so no matter how what happens here, you're never going back, any of you," she paused, to let that knowledge settle in.

The demons, or the few on the front row, growled and glared at the brunette. Many more among them regarded her with wariness, the occasional demon with open fear. None of them seemed about to move, however.

Daemon exhaled, throatily, at the thought of his deleted underlings. With a thought directed inward, he executed his reality-walking program, defining the Dark Area's meta-reality coordinates. He saw nothing happen.

"It's true," he realized, horror creeping into his voice.

Back over with the quintet, Davis looked cluelessly at the exchange. "Does anyone else think this is confusing? What're they even talking about"

A figure leapt up from within the horde, and stayed aloft on blue-feathered wings. The human's and the Aegiochusmon's eyes met briefly.

"Despair not, master," announced the Aegiochusmon, loud and forceful, "we your soldiers stand by you. We, together, shall fell this abominable creature who dares to oppose us. Our world shall be avenged, and honored by this world becoming another Hell. This, I swear," so speaking, she flew forward.

Kari watched the winged demon, unemotive, absently wondering what shell to use for the deletion program. After a moment of that pondering, an arrow like the ones Angewomon used shot from over Kari's head, towards the approaching demon.

A moment more passed after the arrow had landed in her left horn. Then, her code simply decompiled into incoherent bits of data. The onlookers saw only her sudden disappearance, as a sign of that process.

Yolei looked with wide eyes at the event, unpleasant memories returning to her. A quiet 'no' escaped her lips. Ophanimon smiled, impressed with her human.

"Okay," called Kari to the demon horde, "unless anyone else wants to try that first, I have an offer for you, Bagramon," she pointed to the Mega with the skeletal arm, "and for any other demons of the Demon Lord type around here."

Surprise flashed over the bearded demon's face. "Doesn't this 'deal with the devil' crap usually go the other way around?"

"Yeah," nodded the brunette. "Here's the deal. You'll get your own hell dimensions, if you leave the Daemon Corps. You don't have to join my side, or fight anyone here, just leave his army. That's all I ask in return."

Bagramon smirked. Her intent - to reduce Daemon's army's size, conveniently removing a guy with spiritual abilities from the equation - was apparent to him. "Kinda tempting offer, but since you've just demonstrated you can and will delete them to serve your needs, why would I even consider taking you up on that? Tell me that one."

Daemon glared at Bagramon, unsure of who to direct his anger at.

"Well, for one because your options are either to die a pointless death," she felt a twinge of guilt at saying so, "or get to be the lord of your own Hell."

She heard Ophanimon's voice, "Kari, I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"Second," she spoke to Bagramon, "I can guarantee that it won't happen to you, as long as you stay in Hell and do whatever you want to there. Good enough?"

A female voice called out, "It most assuredly is for I," from within the army. Several rows in was the MaloMyotismon woman. A handful of Devimon stood around her, glaring with varying degrees of surprise and indignation at the vampire.

She smirked. With a single quick gesture, she grabbed the head of the closest Devimon, and began to press, then raised the demon to eye-level.

"You," she spoke, looking from the Devimon she held and down at a few of the others, and to the Mephistomon and Phelesmon who were looking at her from a bit away, "will all come to serve me in my new Hell, or I will kill you."

Back at the front of the infernal army, Daemon was now looking at Kari, mixedly amused and annoyed.

"Dissent among my troops, with the promise of glory or death," mused the archfiend. "If it hadn't happened to me, I would probably have applauded you for this," he paused, to mull the situation over for a moment. Beneath the hood, the devil smirked, then he chuckled. "Now I understand."

Hikari frowned. "Kinda figured you would."

Bagramon looked uncertainly at his master; realization quickly dawned. "Oh, it is a bluff."

"No," responded Kari, to the Bagramon man. "It isn't. I thought the Aegiochusmon proved that to you."

"It is indeed a bluff, Bagramon," asserted Daemon to him. "Regardless of whether she's sincere with her offer, she's trying to avoid open war between our two sides, because she can't simultaneously fight us and safeguard them. Am I right, Hikari?"

Kari breathed in.

Behind her, Yolei watched her, confusion on her face. "I'm not sure what the deal is with this hell-dimension stuff, but do you think that Kari would actually do as she's promised them, Ophanimon?"

Ophanimon didn't have an answer.

"Maybe," replied the human to the demon. "I'll be honest, I just want you out of my world as quietly as possible," she looked to the other demon. "What's your decision, Bagramon?"

A smirk grew on his face, as he looked to his master. "Sorry, boss-man, but I just gotta look at the bigger picture, and it says I'm gonna go be a king now."

Daemon looked displeased. "Bagramon, I'm not sure what amazes me more; your boldness in betraying me so openly, or your gift for delusion in seemingly thinking you'll get away with it," he punctuated the statement, by raising his hand.

Nervousness flared up on the Bagramon's face. "Play it cool, you have a trump card, dude." "Okay, boss, I know this sounds pretty rude, but I think we both know you would've done the same thing."

"True enough," admitted the archfiend. "I'm still going to be killing you for it. I can forgive many things, and even reward quite a few of them, but not this brazen treachery."

The next thing that anyone, human or demon or whatever else they were, heard was a pained out-cry. It had not come from Bagramon, but from Daemon himself.

Out of his chest now poked the tip of the sword called Olympia Kai, that the Mervamon-species and others brandished by nature. Behind him, a LadyDevimon-variant stood with the sword in hand and a giddy smirk on her face.

"Magic Sword: Killer of Nightmare Soldier," the Perfect declared. The deletion-program vested in the blade began to take effect, and the end result of that was just as quickly demonstrated to the surrounding crowd.

Without much warning, Daemon decohered around her sword, and left only fading bytes of deleting code behind.

"Master!" shouted the Mervamon as well as several of the other demons around, whereas others hollered the name of his species, and others simply watched silently.

The sword-brandishing demon in the black leather grinned, looking to the brunette. "What say ya gimme onna them hell dimension things too?"

Kari's answer came right on the spot. "Thanks for killing Daemon for me, but the answer's no. The offer is for Demon Lord types only. Ask me again in three-hundred years, maybe we'll be more amenable then."

BladeLadyDevimon glowered, then released a sigh. Ophanimon frowned quizzically at the last part of that sentence, and began to walk.

Kari felt the cool touch of the angelic knight's armor on her shoulder.

"Kari, I know that now might not be the best time, but I'll really appreciate if you could just fill me in here?" asked Ophanimon. "What's going on, how did you do whatever you did to that demon, and why are they so scared of you that they're not attacking?"

A sense of nostalgia came over her. "They ask that so often, yet they never get the whole picture." "It's a seriously long story, Ophanimon," replied the brunette. "I promise I'll explain everything as soon as the demons are gone."

From atop the roof, Kari gazed out over Odaiba.

A distance behind her, space was coaxed open by the power exerted upon it. As soon as Dagomon had come through, a mental instruction closed the gateway. The area had remained quiet, and peaceable, just the same.

"It's done," he voiced to her.

She turned, smiling. "Good to hear. Do you want to have our battle now?"

The many-tentacled demon shrugged. "Now's as good as anywhen, I guess," his mind began to toil away, on a simple reprogramming of the space around him. Above him, space began to unravel in a few places; each such spatial reconfiguration was guided into a wide and oval shape.

In the one at the top, Kari saw a vast cavern illuminated by the blue light of a burning river. In the middle one, a blizzard-covered place where an Impmon swarm was roaming about. In the one on the right, an informally-dressed woman with light-blue hair was watching what the brunette recognized as a ChaosGallantmon battle what she recognized as a mixed pack of hellhound species - Marchosiamon, Cerberumon, Orthrumon, Dobermon, Barghmon - in a desert. Another of them, she recognized most.

"Six?" wondered the human teen.

"Yep," affirmed the squid. "I figured Lilithmon's Dark Digidestined idea was one too good to waste, so I gave a new version of them their own plane. Six-hundred-sixty-six different units of Dark Digidestined, all in there."

"Really?" asked the brunette, half surprised by him going for such a cliche, half surprised he'd even found that many.

"Okay, no," he admitted. "There wasn't even a hundred, even after I considered every candidate I could remember, even Kurata's Bio-Hybrids, but just sixty-six units of them on the sixth plane of Hell works for me as far as that bit of symbolism goes. Anyway, it's your choice this time. Which one's to be our battlefield? Murmukusmon's caves and hellfire and blood? MaloMyotismon's land of infernal frost? The Dark Ocean? The Cthyllaverse? Or, the land of tainted heroes?"

It was a good question. It was a relief to her that he - and maybe whatever DarkKnightmons and Parallelmons there might evolve - would be the last that the universe ever saw of the demon dimensions, but she still wished she had a dice right now. That would've made it easy to pick one.

"Why just choose one?" the Digidestined of Light voiced, after a bit of consideration.

"However you wanna play it," replied the Dark Sun God, with a bit of amusement laced into his voice at the solution.

A sense of nostalgia mixed with weariness surfaced in her mind. There was, decided Kari, no point in bemoaning it anymore; quite the contrary, the predictability of their war was welcome. She wondered if the hell dimensions were her problem or her privilege, quickly figuring that they were probably both.

"Here we go again."

Chapter Text

The brunette breathed - "Oh Gods, oh yes!" - almost in tune with the easy motions of the wiry appendage. She could feel a vaguely-uncomfortable-but-mostly-very-pleasant warmth once again build in her nerves and all over her skin, one that she wanted more of.

"I am a actively-worshipped deity, so that manner of address is pretty appropriate," responded the sea-monster, tone light. She responded with an unsteady snort. The tentacle around her thigh began to tighten and loosen its grip, over and over and over, eliciting dry rasps and moans from the woman. Soon, she exhaled breathily, eyes tightly shut.

Taking it to mean that she had reached climax, the Perfect slowed his movements a bit. Moments later, the session had come to an end.

The eighteen-year-old tossed herself down on the bed, head landing not quite squarely on the pillow. She turned around, adjusting her position, burying her head's backside in it.

"Okay, I think it's enough now," murmured the brunette. Her voice was nothing short of fuzzy, "wanna say, I'm really developing a taste for tentacles," she was almost surprised to hear herself say it. Before, she wouldn't ever have.

For starters, she couldn't get pregnant, which was good enough in itself, but they also didn't have a refractory period. As the cherry on top of all that, they could reach places that Kari hadn't known she liked being touched in. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed all positives.

"I am pleased that you're pleased," returned the blue-skinned monstrosity, from his part of the room. "Anyway, I'm kinda curious, what's happening in your life these days?"

She exhaled, heart-beat settling on a quiet pace. "Not much, we're mostly just wandering the dimensions."

It didn't surprise him - adventure and wonder was part and parcel of her every life. Given her bad habit of repressing herself, however, he found himself a bit uneasy about her reticence to share.

"Just last week," she elaborated, "me and Gatomon Bio-Merged into Magnadramon and kicked DarkKnightmon's butt, over in Witchelny."

"Such adventures you have," marveled the unearthly thing, without a hint of irony.

"So, what's going on with you?" inquired the brunette.

"The same as is always," responded Dagomon. "Sleeping and ruminating in the depths, the occasional outing with Hikari, dropping by whenever one of you was in a situation she or Gatomon couldn't get her out of. It's been about two years since last time I did that song and dance."

Kari hmmed in acknowledgement.

"Before I forget, your mother's asked to see me," he related.

She looked unabashedly surprised. "Really?" her brain, and every single instinct she had, agreed. The meeting of her mundane and surreal lives was not gonna go well.

"Yeah, Yuuko from when the Ophanimon-verse Kari is thirteen," elaborated the Perfect. "Would you accede to tagging along? I expect that this will be awkward."

A cringing frown formed on Kari's face. "No, I'm sorry," she couldn't go back, not after everything she had lost, not after everything she and Gatomon had seen. She just couldn't.

As Yuuko watched, a humanoid figure in yellow robes popped into reality. For a moment, the yellow-robed brunette flickered with muted reds and greens and blues, that reminded her of static on an old TV set. The queen of the Deep Ones turned to face her.

"To pre-emptively answer what you no doubt are about to ask, Dagomon agreed that I should be the one to attend this little meeting rather than him. If this vexes you, I can bring him here in little time," voiced Hikari, voice perfectly. "I have heard that you wish to confer."

Yuuko looked, almost befuddled by her. She looked so much like Kari, the spitting image of an older her, but spoke completely unlike her daughter.

The woman swallowed, willing her unease down.

"Feel free to take a seat," she gestured to the couch. Giving a small smile, Hikari moved to sit down. Yuuko quickly joined her, on the other couch. "I want to know," voiced Yuuko, "what all this is about. Why did this Dagomon fella tell my daughter that she's some kind of dimension-making reincarnated goddess?"

Hikari simply looked at her, eyes unreadable. That bothered Yuuko.

She decided to begin the explanation lightly. "She was so informed, because it is true," it was the greatest understatement in all eternity that multi-dimensional matters were complicated.

Yuuko looked uncertainly at her. On one hand, it was absurd, but she had just teleported in.

"The matter is two-fold," continued Hikari. "Though my human self yet knows it not, she is an elemental of light and photon. From this, she gains power very near omnipotence. It is her energy that Gatomon draws upon in taking her higher states, and which manifested for your daughter during her conflict against the Dark Masters several years ago."

Comprehension dawned on her immediately of what she meant - that time where Kari began to spontaneously glow. She'd just explained that to herself as some weird Digital World thing. The laws of Faerie were not the laws of Earth. "So that's why that happened."

"Indeed," said the queen in yellow. "The other matter at play here, the matter of my reincarnations, is perhaps explained most simply as my soul being in an never-ending cycle between two universes. I am born in this world, and I relocate into our plane beyond this continuum. For lack of a better word, there I eventually die, and my soul returns to the one named Kari Kamiya."

Yuuko couldn't believe it. She didn't really want to, but her daughter sounded so sure of what she was saying, she was a bit hesitant to dismiss it as just a crazy woman's rambling.

"Did you want to know anything else?" Hikari added, after a moment's silence.

Yuuko sighed, and rubbed her temple. "Hhhh, it's just, this is a lot to take in."

"Indeed so," replied Hikari, neutrally, sitting motionless. Silence reigned for a short bit.

"So, tell me," requested the physically-older brunette. "What's your life like now, in your dimension?"

A smile formed on Hikari's face. "Much is well, there. I have had many millennia to meditate and ponder philosophy, love and be loved by Dagomon, and tour the myriad realms of both universes. You would not soon believe, I think, many of the wonders I have seen in my travels."

It pleased her to hear that. "That's good to hear, Kari," Hikari decided against correcting her about the nickname. This woman was, in some sense, her mother, and it was not unwelcome. "But, millennia? Really? You're immortal?"

"As I said," answered Hikari, "my current life has many things for me to take joy in."

Leaning back, Yuuko pondered what next to ask. Eventually, she said, "Look, Kari, I'm just going to address what I feel is a pretty big elephant in the living room here. Dagomon is a giant squid. How in the world did you ever hook up with him? How do you even kiss that face?"

The smile on her face dimmed into a frown. "I am aware that physically dissimilar romantic bonds are unusual among humankind, and ones forged between different species as well, but they are mundane among the Digimon races," she paused for a moment, before resuming. "To answer your second question, I no longer remember when he and I originally met. I do not believe it truly matters," she paused there.

Yuuko sighed lightly as she took that in. Kari remained outwardly stoic as she pondered the optimal phrasing of her next statement.

"The answer to your last question is that I do not," disclosed the brunette. "Only on rare occasions do I kiss his forehead, and do we partake in recreational intercourse."

Yuuko flushed. She hadn't quite wanted that much information. Her face then scrunched over with confusion. "Wait, I didn't think that Digimon had genitalia."

"In most worlds, they do not, and Dagomon is no exception to that," explained Hikari. "Consider, mother," a lopsided grin broke out, "what he does have."

She gasped, realizing what she was insinuating - bestiality, or xenophilia... digiphilia? Cyberphilia?

A glum mood then formed in her eyes. "You really aren't the girl I raised, anymore, are you?"

Hikari had expected that Yuuko would acknowledge that - a rare first, in all her life - but hearing it still displeased her. "I am afraid that I must say no. A person can change greatly in merely ten years, and I have had far more than ten millennia in our realm. Even the body I inhabit," she stopped.

The yellow-robed otherthing raised her hand, and her other hand to the wrist. The hand came off, like there wasn't anything holding it together. Shock flashed over Yuuko's face, shock that became surprise when she noticed that there weren't any blood to see. There was just dark water, glowing with lavender light, inside her forearm.

Absently, Hikari tucked her hand into her robe-sleeve again. "My human form and flesh was abandoned long ago, yet I am fond enough of its likeness to design my vessels after it."

Yuuko mentally brushed the oddity off, a mildly sour taste left in her mouth. "I see."

"I believe that we can agree, I have changed too much to pass for a human," voiced Hikari, sternly. "It is the reason I myself refrain from returning to earth more than passingly. I should leave."

Hikari stood up. Yuuko spoke.

"No."

The woman who appeared barely twenty looked quizzically at the thirty-something. "I am afraid that I do not entirely fathom your meaning."

She made a smile. "I mean that I don't want you to leave. You may be some extradimensional Lovecraftian power and queen now, but you're still my daughter in some sense of the term, and I want to understand you a little better."

Hikari returned her smile. "Thank you for the offer. I shall accept. It is assuredly more inviting than anything else I might spend today doing."