• Hi all. We have had reports of member's signatures being edited to include malicious content. You can rest assured this wasn't done by staff and we can find no indication that the forums themselves have been compromised.

    However, remember to keep your passwords secure. If you use similar logins on multiple sites, people and even bots may be able to access your account.

    We always recommend using unique passwords and enable two-factor authentication if possible. Make sure you are secure.
  • Be sure to join the discussion on our discord at: Discord.gg/serebii
  • If you're still waiting for the e-mail, be sure to check your junk/spam e-mail folders

Digimon: Civil War

storymasterb

Knight of RPGs
The Black Coast

Jericho thought back to the words Jaeger had spoken in the control room of Chromium’s Palace. Words about accountability. Of working towards atonement. Of being free to choose for oneself.

Would someone who valued freedom be okay deferring his fate to another? Would someone who had not finished his work forgive them if they let him die?

“The Empire does many things to the minds of its soldiers.” Jericho said. “It deadens your conscience so you will follow any order. It encourages turning a blind eye to inconvenient details while rewarding the acceptance of convenient narratives. But, perhaps most troubling of all, it makes you believe that you are nothing more than a cog in the greater machine. That your only purpose is to die to yourself so that you may willingly give all for the good of the Empire. Jaeger understood well, I think, of how valuable the sense of self was if it could survive the Empire and emerge intact. The last thing he told me to do, was to decide for myself what I would do next.”

Jericho was quiet for a moment as he looked down at Jaeger. “It is for that reason that I cannot decide his fate. And yet, at present, he is unable to decide it for himself. All I can say then is that Jaeger did not seem to me to be the sort of man who would want to let his spark go out before he was satisfied with his efforts.”

Ulysses frowned. "We should let him rest," he said softly. "He deserves it. Use the Chronicle. Heal Surrak. Let the tin--let Jaeger go."

"Did'ya listen to 'ol Rusty-saurus?" Demo scoffed. "Jaeger ain't done. He's gotta see this through."

"He is done," Ulysses said. "Only still alive by some miracle or fluke."

"Then we'd be dumb to ignore it," Demo shot back.

"It flies in the face of nature," Emmara said softly. Ulysses gestured to her as if she was agreeing with him and nodded. "No. I mean...it's odd, isn't it? That they would both be in this state? Close to death, but not dead, at the same time, in the same way?"

"Chromium..." Ulysses trailed off, then shook his head in frustration.

"You never liked Jaeger," Demo challenged. "You just wanna be rid of him."

"No," Ulysses said firmly. "That's sick."

"Oh? Then why'd ya want to let Jaeger die but were fine with bringing back Surrak?"

“Oh, would you two shut up already!” Sawyer blurted out. “You two are bickering like a pair of numemon over a fresh haul of garbage, in the meantime these two are running out of time while we prattle on.”

The Gokuwmon gulped nervously when he realized all eyes were turned to him. “Not sure how much I can speak for the metal mutt,” he gestured vaguely towards Jaeger, “but he struck me as the practical type, so maybe he wouldn’t mind carrying on the mission, even in another form.”

“Besides not every mon gets a second chance like this,” Sawyer said, his voice heavy with emotion. “Those filthmon...I grew up with them...knew many of them by name….They ain’t coming back. If I deny Jaeger and Surrak the opportunity to keep fighting, then I might as well spit on my friends’ sacrifice.”

“I’m not sure saving only one of them is even possible,” Titus spoke up softly. His golden eyes glowed with an unnatural light, as though seeing something hidden from normal sight. The dragon knight shook his head, his eyes returning to normal. “So much data is missing from both of them. It would have to be both or neither.”

"It would," Kytheon confirmed with a nod, fixing Titus with a scrutinizing look. "Valyrium could perhaps just save one or the other, but there is too much missing data to simply heal them. Valyrium would have to fill the missing spaces with something, whether by bringing them together, or by substituting data from the Realm itself."

"But they would then be tied, intrinsically to the Eternal Legion. They would not be able to exist as Realmless any longer."

"And they'd be vulnerable to any invocation of the Realmpact's authority," Emmara said.

"As long as the Legion remained within the Realmpact, yes," Kytheon nodded. Then a frown creased his features. "Words I never thought I would utter."

"I can't say I knew them well," Adirael interjected, frowning. "And I pause at the thought of forcing our decision upon them, but needs must. I don't think either of them would want such a miserable end as rotting away while the fight is far from over." It did trouble him even so, the thought of 'what if I were in their position' playing in his mind. Would he accept being mashed together with another Digimon without a word toward yay or nay?

Medraut nodded in hesitant agreement. "The Digimon Surrak and Jaeger become may well loathe us," he mused. "But if we can save them in some form, then to me it only makes sense to try." He glanced toward Goliath and Adirael caught the look, wondering what passed through the Duftmon's mind. Was it just tactical pragmatism that made him agree? He could hardly imagine it made sense in any tactical or strategic way to let soldiers fall when they could be salvaged, grim as that sounded. But then, there was that hesitation, the look toward Goliath as though seeking certainty from his commander.

The Beelzemon X could hardly pretend it was an easy decision to make, but it had to be made.
 

Kamotz

God of Monsters
< Ajax Vol >

So it was decided. Kytheon had begun whatever ritual was required to meld Jaeger and Surrak into a single Digimon. Ajax understood. But damn, it was a hell of a decision to make for them. Then again, there was no guarantee that they'd survive the process despite what Kytheon claimed, or that they'd survive the war itself. Who could really say how long they'd have to live in that combined state.

Kytheon went into some long explanation on the hows of what he would do; breaking down their X-Antibodies into base code and utilizing their power to seal the jogress. Something about the X-Antibody had slowed their degradation, but its complexity hindered his reformatting efforts.

The Warleader extended his hands and light flooded from the golden ring on his back. It traveled in circuit-like lines through his arms and into his fingers, then speared through the air in those same circuit patterns and twisted towards the prone forms of Jaeger and Surrak. It traced over them, etching into their forms as well, climbing into their gaping wounds and exposed sections of bleeding data like glowing, angular vines.

"You seem displeased," said Arahon. He had retreated to a respectable distance once they began speaking about the forced jogress.

"It seems so…unnatural," Ajax forced out. There was something inherently wrong with bringing the dead back to life...wasn't there? "Do you really trust your Warleader? That he can...put them together in a way that doesn't make them some sort of unhinged monster?"

"I do," Arahon said. And there was no trace of doubt in his voice.

"It still seems dangerous."

"You're hardly one to talk about 'dangerous' or 'unhinged,'" Arahon chided him. "The way you throw around that Hazard power."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you, back in Prahv," Arahon said. "It wasn't the first time I witnessed that kind of power, or its capacity to annihilate everything around it. I've seen your kind of power once before. I've faced it. It didn't scare me enough then; it does now." Arahon's stare was piercing. "The last Digimon who threw that power around without caution nearly destroyed an entire Realm."

==\=/==

Our last Warleader was like you; she had that same strength, that same crimson power. And she let that power consume her. Turn her into something...indescribable. And she would have let that power consume the entire world along with her if Kytheon and I hadn't stopped her.

I was very young when I began my rise through the Legion's ranks. But that rise was, by all accounts, meteoric. At twenty years old I was already leading a battalion of my own. I was strong, and I had the trust of those who served under me. And Akroma...she feared that. Because she could only lead through fear and intimidation. She believed that strength was only strength if she was loud about it, an idea more at home among your Hordes than the Legion.

Over the next five years, I was sent on the most difficult missions -- she hoped that I'd die on those missions, and I came close many times. But I always emerged stronger. When I digivolved she felt I was a true threat to her leadership. She couldn't see the value of strength in anyone but herself. But I think she knew that if enough of the Legion backed me they would call for her time as Warleader to end, and for five years, I had been earning their respect despite her efforts to kill me. And I earned my most trusted friends; chief among them Onaga and Valkur.

The three of us spent most of those five years together, fighting alongside one another. Learning from one another. Every frustration I ever had with Akroma's leadership, every time I thought I might snap and lash out, they were there to talk me down. In time, our close circle grew, and we became the most efficient fighting force the Legion had seen in years.

After five years Akroma tried a different tactic. During the festival of Skyclave, legionnaires engage in exhibition bouts to display their prowess in battle. They can be quite fierce, though nothing like the ritual combat of Ankham, and winners see their stock rise significantly -- it's the surest way to guarantee a promotion during peacetime. Akroma asked me to participate, and paired me against my closest comrades.

So I fought. But because I had trained alongside these Digimon for the last five years, our bouts were displays of precision, technique, and mutual respect. Nothing ever went too far, and my victories were well earned. With the cheers of the Legion and the music of the Skyclave festival in the air...I thought she had failed. I thought that it was an attempt to weaken my bond with my comrades, or undermine my standing with the Legion at large; show them I was nothing more than a power-hungry brute, willing to fight and claw my way to greatness at any cost. I assumed she could only envision a leader acting like her.

I was wrong. She knew exactly what she was doing. I can still remember the sudden hush that fell over the crowd, that deafening silence as she stepped into the ring herself. After that it was just pain -- thirty minutes of her walking through everything I could throw at her and beating me into the ground. Her warning to the rest of the Legion was as clear as day.

She tried to humiliate me further over the next year, time and time again. Instead of dangerous missions I was given mundane ones, demeaning ones -- ones that would dull my mind and fighting senses; reduce me in the eyes of the Legion. She isolated me from my comrades, encouraging others to mock and deride me, and rewarding those that did. It soon became clear that the only way to earn a place at her table was to treat me as she did.

I knew she had to be removed, but I didn't have the power to do so. None of us did. Not alone. And if she got word of us attempting to overthrow her she would come down on us with all of her considerable power and resources. And she would never open the challenge for Warleader if there was a hint we would have the rest of the Legion's backing.

And so Valkur, Onaga, and I forged a very un-Legion-like plan. My closest friends would disavow me, publicly, and join in with the mockery, encouraging the rest of our unit to do the same. They didn't know, of course, and were hesitant to embrace Onaga and Valkur's change in demeanor. But there was only so long they could resist the external pressure from the Legion. They never joined in full like Onaga and Valkur did, but I distanced myself from them and they from me. And with Akroma's scrutiny now directed to me alone, Onaga and Valkur would focus on getting stronger and preparing to overthrow our Warleader.

And for a year I endured, because I knew Akroma had to be stopped. Despite the ridicule, despite the mockery and scorn, I endured. I was little more than a pack animal at times, and no better than a practice dummy or a moving target at others. There were so many times I doubted my decision, where I questioned whether Onaga and Valkur were really such talented actors, or had they turned against me. But I put my trust in them, I put my faith in them.

During it all she became increasingly erratic, spurred on by that wild power within her. She saw threats everywhere. She planned for battles and wars where none existed. The drums of war beat in the Legion as we prepared to battle enemies we'd never heard of.

One day she had me lead a training session for the new legionnaires. They were very young, little more than children, and just as unruly, but I did my best to instruct them. And because I treated them as peers, they thrived. And they began to respect me, despite (or perhaps because) their elders did not.

Then she stepped in. The respect of the new recruits was unexpected -- It was a glitch in her calculation -- but nothing she couldn't remedy with another display of overwhelming power. And so I prepared myself for another swift beating, when I caught sight of Valkur and Onaga in the crowd, and they nodded. And I had to trust, then and there, that they had remained my true friends through that lonely year. That this wasn't just a ploy to finally put me down, and they were indeed ready.

And I did.

That nod broke the last of my restraint, and I unleashed every scathing thought I'd held inside. And I said it in front of the entire Legion -- new recruits and all. Akroma was furious. She dared me to speak again, dared me to say I could do better. I shouted out that anyone could do better, so she told me to prove it. She accepted my challenge, and beat me into the ground. She left me a bloody, broken mess, crawling across the floor of Sunhome in my Champion form.

And in her anger and the fury of battle, she shouted out to the Legion; though the new recruits had bustled and whispered uncomfortably, the rest of the Legion was respectfully silent and standing at attention through it all. She told them that was all insolence would win them, and again asked if there was anyone who wished to share my fate, and that she would welcome any of them to challenge her leadership.

Then Valkur and Onaga stepped forward. The results of their harsh training became evident, and Kytheon was born. She had issued her challenge, they had accepted, and Kytheon emerged triumphant. When it was done, I bowed before the new Warleader, then he drew me up and embraced me as his brother.

Akroma raged in defeat, and that power within her cascaded uncontrollably. She exploded and killed dozens of legionnaires, wounding hundreds more. Only Kytheon's power and newly-won possession of Valyrium kept the damage contained to that amphitheater.

==\=/==

"So?" Ajax asked brusquely. "You're worried I'll turn into some lunatic like your Warleader? What's the point of all that?"

"The point, you dense dragon, is to illustrate just how dangerous the powers you're tampering with are," Arahon all but bristled at him. "Akroma did not begin her tenure as a tyrant. She became one."

"Maybe you lot were just unlucky," Ajax said, waving him off. "Maybe she would've ended up that way regardless of what power she had."

"You've felt that power even more closely than I have," Arahon pointed out. "Do you truly believe what you're suggesting?"

Ajax didn't answer. Further off, the Warleader ascended back into the sky with the coiled forms of Jaeger and Surrak, and Ajax caught sight of a shimmering metallic blue something in the sky concealed by the clouds.

"The Warleader's personal transport," Arahon explained. "Skysovereign." He smirked at Ajax's bewildered look. "What, do you think he flew here on a cloud?" His team, the Craniummon, UlforceVeedramon, ShineGreymon, and MirageGaogamon, followed Kytheon into the air, disappearing into the clouds and whatever was hidden within.

"We'll send them back to you," Arahon promised. He clasped arms with Ajax. "Remember what I cautioned." He turned and shook hands with Goliath as well, acknowledging the rest of the Realmless with a nod of respect. Then he followed suit and took to the air.

"Do you think we did the right thing?" Ajax asked, not taking his eyes off the sky, trying to make out what was actually up there.

"The right thing?" Goliath asked. He shook his mane in frustration. "I'm starting to understand that there is no single right thing. But we did the best we could."

"Now what?"

"You heard what Kytheon said," Goliath answered, talking about the Digimon like he was a stranger in the jungle, without a trace of reverence for the Warleader's position. "Speak with the Seven Great Houses of the Unhallowed. Give them the same proof we gave to the Legion, the same proof we'll show to anyone who we come across."

Goliath took a glance around, they were still standing by the shores of the Mercury Sea, on the border between the Empire and the Syndicate.

"Let's move along, get some distance between us and the border," Goliath suggested. Everyone took a quick moment to ready themselves and then they followed the lion into the dark woods.

"Great, into the haunted forest," Demo muttered. "Just what I wanted to be doing after escaping the Imperial capital and avoiding an Empire death squad."

"You'll be longing for the forest once we find the Seven Heads," Aurelia said. Her voice was thin, and she trod along instead of floating, which Ajax thought was odd. "If we can even get an audience."

"Pah, after everything else we've gone through?" Goliath waved her off. He looked from her to Adirael and Versa. "How hard can it be?"
 

storymasterb

Knight of RPGs
Adirael Armaros
The Black Coast


Adirael smiled just a little. "Aurelia has the right of it. The forest is tame compared to the Syndicate's city." He held their attention a moment, remembering. Cutthroat and ruthless, the poor ground beneath wheels of debt. Demon eating demon both metaphorically and literally, anything to gain even the slightest edge over everyone else, gilded by the lie of faith to look holy. Some didn't bother with the pretense, of course, he'd heard the howls in the night, listened to the rumors.

"If we secure a meeting," he continued. "They'll pick us apart with their words. They might be intrigued, after all, should the Realmpact be dissolved then I'm sure they'll see opportunities it prevented them from exploiting open up. So their support will come with conditions. They'll weave words around you to dizzy you, pretending to offer you gold when in truth they offer sand, downplaying whatever they might request as nothing when in truth if you give them an inch they'll take a hundred miles."

"Typical of the Syndicate, then," Medraut said from Ryia's side, an unusual haughtiness in the Knightmon's voice. Adirael met his stare.

"Absolutely," he agreed. "Why do you think I grew disillusioned?" The knight nodded to concede that point and he looked back to Goliath. "A possible starting point may be my brother, Bezaliel. With me absent, he will likely have assumed my former duties and with them enough prestige to provide some inroads. It wouldn't be more than a foot in the door unless he's done very well for himself while I've been Realmless, but if a whisper of what we come to say gets to the right ears then I'm sure the Seven Heads will take notice. But we must be cautious lest we be strung up like puppets and used to further agendas that leave us with more problems once the Realmpact is gone."

"And you think your brother lacks any such agenda?" Medraut pressed.

"He is family and I trust him," the demon replied. "And in the Syndicate, trust is a commodity, like anything else. Versa will tell you the same, I'm sure." He gestured to her, inviting her to offer her own insights. Meanwhile his thoughts turned away from a quiet, observant Baalmon to another face, a BeelStarmon so like the woman he gestured to but made distinct by her X-Antibody, sharp and dangerous but with him so dedicated. He hadn't thought of her so keenly for so long, after all, for all that they'd had together he'd never felt able to tell her his doubts.

She hadn't meant as much to him as he'd thought before, Adirael mused. And he couldn't trust in what little pleasures they'd shared to make Iruel put her agendas aside, while Bezaliel had always seemed to have humble ambition if any at all. Surely he could trust his brother with this, he could hardly imagine pleading a case to Amon. He'd be lucky to get through a few sentences without someone's head rolling across the floor.
 

TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
Versa Victa (BeelStarmon)
- The Black Coast -


Versa watched Surrak and Jaegar depart with her mouth in a hard line. She didn't know what to think. How to feel. In some ways the world felt larger now than it ever had. Horizons she had only ever dreamed of seeing she was now treading underfoot. And in other ways, it seemed so small and fragile. An oddly delicate thing she was intent on breaking. But who would be there to pick up the pieces? Once she had seen her mission through, would it fall on her own shoulders to set things right? Would she have to weigh in on the fate of nations when she couldn't bear to decide the fate of two comrades?

"I know that look." Aakio said as he slid into a spot next to her. "And I think I know what's eating you up."

"Do you now?" Versa said. "Enlighten me."

Aakio let out a weak laugh. "On your own thoughts? I wouldn't dare." He turned his eyes skyward as well. "But we did what we had to do."

"I'm tired of having choices forced upon us. Surrak deserved better. Jaeger deserved better. Moby deserved better."

"We all make our own choices." Aakio said. "They did too. No one can control everything, and tying to only makes you Chromium."

"I know." Versa said, staring at her feet. "It's just not fair."

She expected the dragon to retort. To come back with some witty line about life or fairness. But Aakio was uncharacteristically quiet. Still, Versa didn't dare turn to check on him. What did she care if he decided to clam up? It wasn't until a hand rested on her shoulder that she spared a glance. Aakio was still silently staring up at the clouds, but he had one hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder. That bastard, always doing something she didn't know how to react to.

Versa waited as long as she could before she gently eased his hand away and turned to follow the others. "Come on, we're gonna get left behind if we stare at the clouds all day."

"Right." Aakio nodded and followed after.

---

"He is family and I trust him," the demon replied. "And in the Syndicate, trust is a commodity, like anything else. Versa will tell you the same, I'm sure." He gestured to her, inviting her to offer her own insights.

Trust? Family? Versa almost laughed.

"A useful commodity indeed." Versa said. "Just like oaths. Favors. Secrets. Blood. ...Children." Versa trailed off for a moment, tightening the lid on an old bottled up sorrow before it spewed forth.

"If you want to navigate the ocean of blood and anguish that is the Syndicate's upper echelons, then Adirael is your man. Or, his connections are at the very least." she said, not willing to lump her fellow Realmless in with the nobles. "I'd sooner raze it to the ground than endure its sanctimonious posturing for a single moment."

"Be careful with that fire." Jericho cautioned. "If we must garner their support then-"

"You don't understand." Versa said. "There is no 'garnering their support', there is only figuring out what game they are playing and praying you can find out where your pieces are on the board before they get taken. The Seven Heads are not allies to be won over. They are not scribes or soldiers who can be convinced with words of wisdom or surprising revelations. They are predators. Gnawing mouths seeking only what they can devour and what morsels, if left uneaten for a time, might lead to feasts. Use whatever contacts you want. Make whatever preparations you think appropriate. I assure you, you won't leave their den with everything you entered with."

"Surely there's someone in the Syndicate you still care about?" Aakio asked. "You must have relatives somewhere, right?" When Versa didn't answer, he continued, "You've never talked about them, so I figured now would be a good time to ask."

"What is there to say?" she said. "My father is useless. Even if he had the standing to help us he wouldn't have the tact to do anything with it. I... I'm not sure if my sisters or my brother are even still alive or what they might be doing. And..." she was silent for a moment, "If any of you find out what gilded corner my dear mother Jezlaine has slithered off to let me know so I can kill her myself."
 

Kamotz

God of Monsters
< Goliath Leonhardt >
- the Black Coast -


This was going to be harder than he thought. He'd had very little to do with the Syndicate when he served as an ambassador to the Empire. His time as ambassador seemed like a lifetime ago - and he'd barely served at all to begin with before he'd uncovered the atrocities of the Empire. The sum of his own experiences amounted to little more than a handful of rumors and the half-truths everyone "knew" -- the ruthless backstabbing, the selling of children, data-debts, bloodsports, all of it wrapped up in a mockery of the natural order and a pseudo-religion that worshiped the "Unhallowed Truth Beyond All Time and Graves."

From Versa's reaction, he was starting to think the truth was not so far off from the wild rumors after all.

"I agree," Goliath grumbled, nodding to Versa. "I don't want to be caught in any long political games; playing for incremental gains over the next twenty years."

"Optimistically," Aurelia muttered.

Goliath huffed in disappointed agreement. "Why do you trust him, Adirael?" he asked. "He's still there. Despite your opinion of him, he's still entrenched."

"Would you assume everyone lin the Syndicate is rotten to the core?" Aurelia asked. Her voice was even, but there was a twitch of…something in it. Anger? Irritation? Goliath couldn't quite tell, but it wasn't for its own sake. More like anger or irritation on behalf of someone else. And it was like it was only half-there, countered by something that intoned of…resignation? And then all covered up by Aurelia's usual (if there was such a thing with how little they knew of her) poise.

It was like there were two voices speaking just below her own.

"Let's say they're not then," Goliath posed. He glanced around the darkening forest, kept his ears straining for any threatening sounds, kept his senses on high alert. But all he could see in the perpetual gloom was more shadow; all he could hear was the ever-present ruffle of wind through the sharp and angular grey leaves overhead; all he could smell was the strangely pungent perfume of those grey leaves.

"If that's the case, why do we trust a Digimon that has risen up in the ranks to fill a vacant position? A Digimon who embraced the values of the Unhallowed to rise to consideration for that position and take it?" Goliath asked.
 

TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
Versa Victa (BeelStarmon)
- The Black Coast -


"We shouldn't." Versa muttered.

"That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" Aakio said. "We haven't met the guy yet. And if Adirael trusts him then-"

"Word of advice." Versa said. She cast a short, almost apologetic glance at Adirael before turning her attention back to the trees. "Once we get to the city proper, you should probably stop using the word 'trust' so openly."

"Sure, but do we have any other options?” Ajax asked.

"It doesn't seem so," Medraut mused, eying Adirael almost warily. "But I agree with Versa. Trust and the Syndicate aren't concepts that go hand in hand."

"Bezaliel was different," Adirael said, three eyes sweeping over to Versa. "If he took my post, it was out of a sense of duty. Wanting to take up the responsibilities I left behind."

"Yet he wasn't different enough to stand here with you," the Duftmon pressed. "I can't claim to know him, but it strikes me that if he was so principled as you claim, he would have become Realmless too. Principle has no place in the Syndicate, save the principle of want. We may have no better option, but that doesn't mean we abandon all caution just because you believe your brother won't try to use us, Adirael."

"You're making assumptions," Goliath said to Adirael.

"As are you," Aurelia said, though Goliath ignored her.

"You're letting familial bonds get the better of you. For all you know he's the reason you ended up in Ironclad," Goliath continued.

Versa sighed. "There's no reason to fuss about it. Shouting words like "trust" around the Syndicate is asking for trouble, but bickering? Forget it. Any sign of weakness within our ranks when we meet with the heads will give them something to target. Let's just stay focused on finding our way forward."

The less room they gave the politics of the Syndicate to worm their way in, the better.

"Even if our only option is to trust Bezaliel?" Aakio asked.

With every step they took into these accursed woods, Versa's nerves became more and more on edge. She just wanted to be done with this, not sit here and endure this bickering. Even if she had contributed to it.

"Look," she said, her annoyance slipping past her mask, "I'm not saying we lay all our hopes on one guy. If he's our best shot, so be it. Lets use that connection for what's its worth and get the job done."

"Hmm." Jericho rumbled. "Such an opportunistic way of looking at it."

"What was that Grumpy Gears?" Versa snapped.

Jericho slowly turned his head towards her. "I'm saying that perhaps there's still a bit of the Syndicate in you yet."

Versa was livid. Several different half-formed words left her lips, each one the start of a discarded retort. She wanted to light him up. To verbally rip his optics out. But she couldn't. Not here. Not after she'd just tried to diffuse the argument. Her pride wouldn't let her throw a tantrum here in front of all the others. Instead, she huffed and quickened her pace towards the front of the group and left the dinosaur behind.

What was it about this forest that was making her feel like a child again? Was it because she was a child the last time she was here? Was it the thought of retuning home to a place she hated with every fiber of her being? Was it the thought that adult eyes might see the object of her childhood scorn in a different light, for better or worse? She didn't know.

But she was afraid, and she hated feeling afraid.

"You're probably going to have to apologize later." Aakio said to Jericho.

Jericho stared ahead after Versa. "She's going to have to realize that as much as she hates the Syndicate, it made her who she is. I may have cast off the Metal Empire, but it was the empire that forged me. As it was for all of us. To be separate from one's home does not mean that one's home is separate from you."
 

Kamotz

God of Monsters
< Goliath Leonhardt >
- the Black Coast -


“She’s going to have to realize that as much as she hates the syndicate, it made her who she is. I may have cast off the Metal Empire, but it was the Empire that forged me. As it was for all of us,” Jericho said. “To be separate from one’s home does not mean that one’s home is separate from you.”

Jericho’s words hung heavy in the air, and stirred a number of conflicting emotions in Goliath. He had been exiled — damn near chased from his “home.” Was it even “home” anymore? Could he conceivably call that place his home?

But then…home wasn’t necessarily a place was it? Home was the place and everything within it. How much had “home” turned him into who he was? How much had the teachings of the Unbowed molded him into the fighter, the warrior, and the…the leader he had become?

The revelation rang hollow in Goliath’s chest, weighed down by all the failures and losses. And further, a single question formed: as heavily influenced by the Unbowed as he was, would the rest of the world follow someone like him into battle against the Metal Empire? How was he not just asking them to trade one tribal ruler for another?

They continued into the forest for several more hours, and put the mountains and the Black Coast between them and any Imperial forces. There was always the risk that the Empire could send a squad after them, but risking conflict and access to the coffers of the Syndicate was…

No, Goliath chided himself. He was still thinking like the Empire couldn’t just amend the Realmpact and take whatever they wanted. They couldn’t rely on that any longer. He could only hinge his hopes on the fact that Arahon’s squad had dealt the Imperial commanders a decisive enough blow to force them to regroup and reassess their strategies.

It would have to be enough.

“Let’s make camp here,” Goliath said, as they came upon the edge of the forest. A meadow of strange, ash-grey grasses lay beyond. “Gather along the treeline. We’ll keep our backs to the clearing.” They’d only have to watch the woods around them from a single direction.

“I’ll take first watch,” Ajax volunteered.

“Hell you will,” Goliath snapped. “Not after that last stunt. I’ll take first watch with one or two others.” He glanced around looking for volunteers. “The rest of you — Ajax included — get some rest.”

“Great,” Demo groaned. “The haunted forest. I’ll sleep great.”
 

TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
Aakio Daisoujou (Goldramon)
- The Black Coast -


It had been quite a while since her outburst, but Versa still hadn't spoken up again. Or at all, for that matter. Her eyes had been on the forest for hours, scanning carefully. But if Aakio knew her at all, and he liked to think he did, he'd wager she wasn't paying any attention at all to the trees. At the same time, he wasn't sure if he should try to talk to her.

There was an increasing amount of things he wasn't sure about ever since she literally fell back into his life.

He was a scribe of the order. Well, a former scribe. By all accounts, he should be neck deep in legal documents right now. But here he was, trudging through a creepy forest in the Syndicate, nursing wounds from a fight with the Metal Emperor, and following a group of rebels against the world's programming. And despite all of that, the thing that kept eating at his attention was not the forest, or the dull ache in his back, or the circumstances that brought about either. It was the strange look on Versa's face and wither or not there was anything he could do about it.

Maybe Ayas was right, maybe this feeling wasn't the least of his problems. He needed to get this sorted out before it put one or both of them in harms way. Getting distracted or flustered in battle was unbecoming, especially for a dragon.

Of course, he'd been telling himself that since before the battle with Chromium and he'd yet to actually do anything about it.

The group finally stopped for the night at the edge of a clearing. Wide open field on one side, cluttered tree line on the other. That would make keeping an eye out easier. No one could sneak up on them from the field unless they were invisible. As long as they kept an eye on the forest, they wouldn't be caught unawares. Hopefully.

“I’ll take first watch,” Ajax volunteered.

“Hell you will,” Goliath snapped. “Not after that last stunt. I’ll take first watch with one or two others.” He glanced around looking for volunteers. “The rest of you — Ajax included — get some rest.”

“Great,” Demo groaned. “The haunted forest. I’ll sleep great.”

"Its not so bad." Jericho rumbled to a stop and laid flat on the ground. His gears creaked wildly as he settled into position. "It beats a pirate ship. Or a prison cell. In fact, this breeze is so nice, I may take advantage of this moment. Wake me for the next watch."

The old dinosaur was out as soon as he stopped talking.

"I'll go watch as well." Versa said. She was already walking towards Goliath, until Aakio slid into her way. "What?"

"You should get some rest. Let me take first watch." Aakio said.

Versa frowned. "I don't think so. I won't get much sleep anyway."

She moved to go around him, but he opened a wing into her path. "You need all the sleep you can get, even if it is just a little."

"I'm fine."

"Oh really?" Aakio motioned towards her. "How's your stomach?"

She pressed a hand onto her still healing stab wound and did her best to hide her wince. "Its fine." she lied.

"No, its not. Do you really want to walk into the Syndicate at anything but your best?"

Versa crossed her arms and glared at him. Th usual daggers weren't there though. She was too tired to even look angry.

Aakio placed a hand on her shoulder. She didn't knock it away. "Well?"

Finally, she relented with a sigh. "Point made. But I'm taking second watch. No excuses."

"Sure." Aakio said. He wanted to ask something else. Say something else. But the words never found their way from his brain to his throat and he watched silently as Versa turned and walked away until she found a comfortable spot to sulk in.

Feeling a little victorious and a little defeated, Aakio made his way over to Goliath and whoever else had volunteered for the first watch.
 

Solsabre

The Reforged Soul
Titus Cloudraker (Jesmon)

“Great,” Demo groaned. “The haunted forest. I’ll sleep great.”

Titus decided it was better that he not mention the data phantom of a deceased Metal Empire soldier currently looming over the shorter Banchomanemon. It wouldn’t help anyone right now to bring up the dead. He shifted his gaze away from open water so he no longer saw the last fading traces of Moby’s data that only his golden eyes could percieve.

An exhausted Ayas settled onto the thick grass with barely a word, carefully stretching his injured wing and shoulder before laying on his side. Ryia swiveled her ears around, straining to hear. The Sleipmon huffed unhappily, “My hearing is still muffled no thanks to Daiou’s singing earlier.” She glared daggers in the Gokuwmon’s direction. “Someone else can have my shift.”

Sawyer cringed at the use of his formal name, “I feel like I’m getting scowled by my Ma again,” the Gokuwmon whined privately to Titus.

“Well, you practically shouted it at the Emporer, Daiou.” Titus replied, rolling his eyes and not sympathetic to his old friend’s plight as he walked to join Goliath and company.

“Woah, hey, let’s just keep it to Sawyer between friends, alright pal?” Sawyer asked, grabbing the retreating Jesmon’s cloak. “I got caught up in the moment, okay” the Gokuwamon explained, “besides Ma was dreaming big when she named me, Daiou.”

“Sure, as you wish, Great King” Titus chuckled softly as Sawyer squirmed uncomfortably at hearing his formal name’s meaning. The dragon knight gave a tired sigh, “take a turn to sleep. I’ll keep watch with the others.”

“Oh hell no,” Sawyer protested, forgetting his previous discomfort. “You’ve been through how many evolutions in the past day, buster?” The shorter monkeymon jabbed a hairy finger at the Jesmon’s chest. “I don’t even know how you’re hanging onto that form right now.”

“I am holding onto it because I need to,” Titus said far sharper than he meant too. His dormant dragon temper flaring with his building exhaustion. “Besides you know I wouldn’t sleep, even if I tried.

“Fine.” Sawyer relented, remembering how little his friend actually slept during their travels. Titus’s mind was always busy and alert. Only hours of intense training or meditation helped the silver-white dragon to slow down his thoughts enough for a restful night’s sleep. With his newly awakening abilities and senses, it felt even more difficult to do so. Titus nodded his head in thanks.

The Jesmon joined Goliath and Aakio, kneeling down carefully on his long bladed legs, and dismissing his wristblades with a flick of his claws. Sawyer curled up against Titus’s backside and immediately began sawing logs. The silver-white dragon shook his horned helm and threw the end of his cloak over Sawyer to muffle the snoring.

Titus pulled his hood over his face, only the unearthly glow of his golden eyes was visible in the night. Cautiously, he created an opening in his mental shields, allowing his extrasensory ability to reach out a short distance beyond the gathered Realmless. This was the main reason he hadn’t released his Jesmon form yet in order to fully rest. He needed the opportunity to exercise this ‘hyper sensory input’ outside the heat of battle and when he wasn’t likely to be blinded by Ajax’s power.

“If any trouble does show up tonight, I should be able to give us enough warning to act.” Titus said those on the first watch shift.
 

Kamotz

God of Monsters
< Goliath Leonhardt >
- the Black Coast -


“Yes. Well if anything was going to ensure we get attacked, that statement would certainly do it,” Goliath grumbled.

“Hate to break it to ya boss cat, but trouble doesn’t find him. No, he goes looking for it.” Sawyer chimed in, shifting Titus’s cape away from his face.

“I thought you were sleeping.” Titus deadpanned. “And I do not.”

“I beg to differ.” Sawyer shot back. “Remember how we got into this mess to begin with? You wanted to rescue two champion digimon from being arrested by an Empire Patrol and then proceed to get chased through the backcountry for days until we stumbled into this group.”

“See if I ever rescue you from a burning building again in that case.” Titus rolled his eyes. “Might have saved myself some grief in the long run.”

“Ooo, that hurts pal!” Sawyer said with mock hurt in his voice. “Geez, the guy can’t take a joke sometimes,” Sawyer muttered to the others. “OW!” Sawyer held his head in pain from Titus smacking him with the length of his tail. “Careful why dontcha? You’re pointier than usual.”

"You two are quite the pair." Aakio laughed softly. "I can see why Versa gets along with you."

His eyes scanned the surroundings as he talked. "Trouble does seem to follow us around. I could always send Umon out to scout. He does glow a bit though..." he trailed off as his thoughts ran through the options and eventually shook his head. "I just hope our friends can get some rest."

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping," Aakio started, "but... has Ajax always been like that? So willing to put himself in harm's way?"

“Don’t let the cape and armor fool you. He’s a dragon and they’re all idiots,” Goliath scowled before realizing who he was talking to. “No offense.”

"None taken." Aakio said. "Truth be told, I've never really considered myself a dragon. Not like the ones from the hordes at least. I've heard about the Firemind and such, but only on paper. I'm far from hotheaded and I have no desire to fight without reason. I suppose an earnest desire to keep the peace is the mark the Order left on me."

He laughed softly to himself. "Though, since the last battle I havn't been able to stop thinking about ways to improve my fighting technique. Already have a few new moves I'd like to try out."

“Yes. And Ajax is a bigger idiot than most of them,” Goliath muttered. He gave a low chuckle at Aakio’s comment “Must feel like fighting with one hand tied behind your back,” Goliath said. “Without having the Realmpact to call upon.”

"At least fighting with one arm is still easier than the time I had to navigate a volcanic mountain pass without the use of my sight and hearing for training." Titus said, quietly.

"Says the dragon with blades for limbs," muttered Sawyer. Titus rolled his eyes as he pulled the hood away from his face, finally relaxing slightly in posture.

"I've done my fair share of sparring, but I can't say I've ever had the opportunity to use the Realmpact to my advantage." Aakio said. "I was a scribe. A dedicated one. Sparring was actually more of a guilty pleasure than anything else. Most of my time was spent rummaging through old law codices or tabulating bulk ink purchases. This sort of open combat is new to me, if you can't tell by my level of experience."

"The last thing I want to be is a hinderance. I will become strong enough to hold my own, don't worry." he scratched the back of his head. "Though, I think I'll skip the blindfolded volcano trip."

“So, Aakio, Versa vouches for you, which seems like a rarity,” Goliath said. “And you certainly seem to be,” he thought carefully, weighing his words, “fond of her. How did you two get together?”

==\=/==

< Ajax Vol >

Versa found a spot somewhat near Ajax and curled up to rest her chin on her knees.

"Looks like both of us have been asked to take five huh?" she said. "Care for some company?"

Ajax said nothing for a long moment, wondering how rude it was to feign sleep, but figured Versa would see right through it, what with that extra eye. He felt shattered, like he’d break apart and crumble to pieces — literally — without a moment’s notice.

“I don’t like to admit it, but Goliath’s right,” Ajax muttered. “And if you ever tell him I said that I’ll deny it to my last breath.”

"Don't worry, my lips are sealed." Versa held a finger to her lips and sent a small smile his way. But as Ajax kept talking her smile faded.

"I know." she said softly. "That's what bothers me so much. I know what we're doing is the right path. But every time one of us gets hurt I just... can't help but feel like I've failed in some way. Not that it should have been me or anything, it's not guilt. More like..." she trailed off for a moment as she sought the right words. "If I was just a little stronger maybe things might have turned out differently. It's that thought that keeps pushing me forward."

"Is it the same for you?"

“Maybe,” Ajax muttered, then shook his head. “But no. Not really. My problem isn’t with a lack of power. It’s with keeping that power from burning a hole right through me and hollowing me out.”

"Strength and power aren't necessarily the same thing." Versa mused. "One could say that strength is the prerequisite for power."

She sighed. "But I see your point. What's it like? To carry the burden of that kind of power?"

Ajax considered this for a moment. “Violent and wonderful. Like you could set the world on fire at any moment just by breathing.

“It’s everything I’d ever wanted, everything I’d ever been *taught* to want, to *believe* in,” he continued. “Glorious violence. Fury. And that power— whatever that power really is, wherever it comes from—if I’d done I. If I’d let *go* back there, when the Empire had us surrounded…”

He was silent for a long moment. “I would’ve burned them all away. Part of me wonders if I’d have ever *stopped* burning. Or maybe I’d have ripped a hole right into the heart of our world and just *ended everything*.”

He looked at Versa with tired eyes. “I wish I could say the thought terrifies me. But I just can’t stop thinking about it. Does that make me a monster?”
 

TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
Aakio Daisoujou (Goldramon)
- The Black Coast -


“So, Aakio, Versa vouches for you, which seems like a rarity,” Goliath said. “And you certainly seem to be,” he thought carefully, weighing his words, “fond of her. How did you two get together?”

First Ayas, and now Goliath? He didn't even know what he and Versa had at the moment, much less how to explain it to someone else. At least this time, it was just a question about the past.

Aakio opened his mouth to respond and was immediately cut off by another voice.

“Yea, are you and Sweetcheeks like star crossed lovers, forbidden from being together because of your realms or something?” Sawyer chimed in with a cheeky smirk. Titus growled a soft warning at the Gokuwmon to knock it off.

The Goldramon deflated, just a bit, and mumbled. “I wish it was that simple.”

He was suddenly aware of the others around him again and cleared his throat. “That is to say, it's a long story. The abridged version is that when I first began to… doubt the workings and methodology of the Order I decided that there were some things I had to see for myself.”

“I set out to investigate the Metal Empire. More specifically, their borders. See if the rumors of expansion and resettlement were accurate. And it was out there that I ran into Versa acting like a one woman resistance. She told me things. Showed me things. What the Empire was up to. The lives it had uprooted and destroyed. At first, I didn’t believe her. But in time…”

He shook his head. “I was a fool back then. I refused to believe that the Order couldn’t still solve the problem. And I tried to convince Versa that her home needed her too. We… came to blows. I’m not proud of it. And in the end I left her there, standing in the rain outside some dusty old cave and flew back home and tried to figure things out. But the only thing I learned was that she had been right all along. And I had to carry that regret for years, thinking I’d never see her again. Until she walked into the Order with the rest of you.”

He rested his face on one of his hands and took a moment. “Now it feels like I’ve got a second chance, but I just can’t figure out what to do with it.”

-+-+-+-

Versa Victa (BeelStarmon)
- The Black Coast -


Ajax was silent for a long moment while Versa looked on. “I would’ve burned them all away. Part of me wonders if I’d have ever *stopped* burning. Or maybe I’d have ripped a hole right into the heart of our world and just *ended everything*.”

He looked at Versa with tired eyes. “I wish I could say the thought terrifies me. But I just can’t stop thinking about it. Does that make me a monster?”

Versa looked back into his eyes, studying the depths of his gaze. People used to tell her she had fire behind her eyes. A burning passion to set the world aflame and revel in the blaze. If that was true, then Ajax had ashes in his. Embers of a fire gone cold. Weary. Remembering what it was like to burn with longing and horror both.

How many times had Versa dreamed of setting her world ablaze? What price would she not pay to see the Syndicate erased from the world? If Ajax was a monster for wanting to unleash a power he already possessed, than what did that make her for longing to unleash a power she did not wield?

"If you are a monster," she finally said, "then I am a demon indeed."

She flicked a long piece of grass with her finger and watched it bounce back and forth with all three eyes, if only to give herself an excuse to look away from Ajax for a moment. His gaze had suddenly gone from a subject of fascination to a rather unpleasant mirror.

When the silence became unbearable, she spoke up again. "The world is broken. It is normal to want to do something about that. Some of us want to fix it. Some want to tear it down and rebuild it in a new image. And some... just want to watch it burn. I'm not a fixer. I like to pretend I'm a builder. But I know. What I am. What I want."

She looked at Ajax with a half-hearted smile. "For what its worth, I'm glad someone like you has that power and not someone like me."
 

TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
Aakio Daisoujou (Goldramon)
- The Black Coast -


“Oh? And what else did she show you ‘in time,’” Goliath teased. He drew a long sip of tear that Emmara brewed, hiding his smirk.

Aakio was keenly aware of several of his neurons misfiring.

"Couldn't have been her boobs, that's not hard to see," Sawyer said, as he stared up to the star-filled sky, his furry hands cupping the back of his head. "Sawyer!" Titus said in a harsh whisper, "that's inappropriate and disrespectful!"

"That's..." Aakio started, blushing despite his best efforts to stay composed, "That's not... I mean, it's not like... We spent a lot of time together and, yes, there were times when things got... interesting, but... I mean, it never got to... No, no, I'm not having this conversation." He clapped his hands together in front of him, adopting the same pose he took when meditating. "I've talked enough. What about you guys? Any of you have your eye on someone? Or someone waiting for you?"

“Well played, scribe,” Goliath nodded. “But I know your lot loves to talk. So don’t change the subject just when things get interesting.”

"If Aakio doesn't wish to speak on it, I think we ought to respect that. " Titus said, coming to the Goldramon's aid. " It is a matter between him and Versa alone."

Maybe Titus wasn’t so bad after all, even if Versa liked to wrap her arm around his shoulder.

"Careful, spoil sport, let Goldie talk or I might bring up the Kuybimon you took a shine too a while back." Sawyer said.

“Psh. Yer actin like we brought it up,” Demo scoffed. “And now I kinda wanna know what King Kong is talkin’ about too,”

"It was years ago and wouldn't have worked out," Titus muttered, relunctantly. "I've moved on since then."

"Eh, yea right, Mr. Speaks only truth," Sawyer called out his friend, while making quotes with his fingers. "Don't think I haven't noticed you always glancing towards her village when we've traveling near it in the Conclave."

“Conclave women,” Goliath muttered. He shot Titus a warning look. “They’re trouble.”

"Sounds like you're talking from experience." Aakio said.

Goliath harrumphed. “More than I’d wish on anyone else,” he said.

“Weird way to brag, but ok,” Demo said.

Aakio chuckled. "Well then. Sawyer. Demo. You two are quick to poke fun at us but I havn't heard a story from either of you yet."

“What’s there to say about me?” Demo said with a shrug. “I’m just a simple beast mon from the jungle who was made aware of the crushing injustice of the world.”

Demo did not seem like a jungle mon. Aakio was about to object, but Sawyer cut in before he could.

"I lived as a filth mon for most of my life. I had a face only a mother could love. Now, however... Sawyer said, combing through his furry hair and tugged at his leather jacket to straight the collar. "I'm going places. Heck, if Goldie here ain't going to make a move on Versa I might just try my luck and new looks. I mean we both got the leather thing going on."

"You'll be lucky if she doesn't shoot you in foot," Titus warned Sawyer.

"I'll be lucky if she only shoots me in the foot." Sawyer shot back, but didn't look deterred.

“And that’s not Demo’s story at all,” Goliath grumbled. “It’s mine.” He glanced at his friend. “Demo here is former Imperial special forces. And if not for that injury to his arm making him an outcast he might be the one hunting us down…maybe even as a commander.”

“Yeah, well someone maybe should have been tactful enough to know that maybe that’s not something I was really all that proud of and wanted everyone to know,” Demo grumbled.

Aakio crossed his arms. "In my experience, its not Versa's bullets I'd be worried about. She's much more fond of her knives when she's really angry." He paused for a second. "Anyway, Demo, I would wager you're not the only one in our group who isn't exactly proud of their former life. Take Jericho, for example. Though I suppose that comes with the territory of being a Realmless." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Or would that be the lack of territory?" he mumbled.

Demo glared at Aakio. “Look here, lover-boy, just ‘cus you put syrup on somethin’ don’t make it pancakes.”

"That's true enough." Aakio said with a nod. "We could always go back to discussing the trouble with Conclave women, I guess."

“The trouble with Conclave women is that their too insightful for their own good,” Goliath muttered. “Too level headed. You don’t want them telling you how you feel or what you think before you’ve figured it out yourself.”

"Kachina isn'tt like that!" Titus blurted out defensively, before stuttering awkwardly, "I-I mean, yes she could at times, but...I don't see anything wrong with that." Redness tinted Titus's silver-white scales in embarressment.(edited)

"Pal, you're just digging yourself a deeper ditch," Sawyer laughed.

“No, of course not,” Goliath said placatingly. “I’m sure you two were on equal emotional footing.”

"It could be worse," Aakio said with a shrug, "I don't suppose any of you have ever been asked to sign a legally binding document outlining the terms of a date? Life in the Order can be... cold."

-+-+-+-


Versa Victa (BeelStarmon)
- The Black Coast -


“And just what exactly are you, Versa?” Ajax asked. “What do you want?”

"Perhaps I'm the monster you fear you are." Versa said. "Maybe I want a power like yours so I can do what you stopped yourself from doing." Her tone had shifted again, from measured and serious to her usual flippancy. "Or maybe I'm just a flame who burns whatever it touches. And just once I'd like something fireproof in my life."

“The only thing that stopped me was that idiot knight,” Ajax muttered. “And what do you do? Once you find the thing that you can’t burn?”

Versa looked over at Ajax for a long, quiet moment. Her eyes wandered, finding the scars of battle on his armor, the tired lines of his face, the profiles cast in shadows by the firelight. "I don't know." she finally said before closing her eyes entirely. "I suppose I'll have to let you know when I find it."

“Yeah,” Ajax said, he turned his eyes from the firelight and gazed into the shadows of the forest around them. “In my experience everything burns. So if you find something that doesn’t…”

"Don't let it get away?" Versa said. She laughed softly to herself. "Make sure you remember that too."

Ajax snorted. “I destroy everything I touch,” he said.

"So if you find something unbreakable..." Versa said with a sly smile. She let the echoed words linger for a moment before continuing. "Take it from me, one flame to another," she said as she stared into the fire, "If you can't stop burning, you may as well learn to love the heat."

“I’d ask what a Syndicate exile knows about hear, but then I remembered your close call with that lava flow,” Ajax smirked.

"Oh? So there is a sense of humor buried under all that brooding mystique." Versa said.

“You’ve met Goliath, right?” Ajax said. “You think I could be friends for years without a sense of humor? I’d have driven myself crazy.”

Versa smiled. "I think we all passed crazy some time ago." She laid back on the ground, staring up at the night sky. "That's not a bad thing though. This place, this moment, this whole crazy crusade of ours... Its the closest I've ever felt to home."

"And no, that has nothing to do with our proximity to the Syndicate." she said, wagging her finger in the air.

Ajax nodded. “Something tells me we’re all in that boat,” he gave the group a once-over. “I don’t think we belong anywhere else right now. Part of being Realmless I suppose.”

Versa’s eyes stayed on the sky, or perhaps on the stars beyond. “Yeah… It'd be nice, I think, if these days could last a while.”
 
Last edited:

Kamotz

God of Monsters
Aurelia Ravencroft

The night wore on and one-by-one the others began to filter off to sleep. After some ruckus and faked objections he forced the others to head to sleep, then called out Ajax and Versa for chatting like schoolgirls. Only once everyone had been silent for a few hours did he relinquish his watch and wake Aurelia.

She watched him stumble off to sleep and then turned her attention to the closely-tended fire. The warmth and crackle was hypnotizing and she fought to keep her bearings against it. In a moment of uncertainty, she found her mind fracturing; and rather than fight it, she set one piece to keep watch in the darkness.

“What are we doing here?” a not altogether unexpected voice spoke against the strained silence of the Black Forest. Aurelia glanced up and found Beatrix leaning against a nearby tree, half illuminated by the fire, her right side shrouded in the darkness of the wood. She fixed Aurelia with one glowing-red eye.

“They need us,” another voice spoke. Aurelia turned and saw Reya seated across the fire, the flicker of the fire danced over her in flashes like sunlight. The left side of her facemask burned with the firelight.

“You’re not real,” Aurelia muttered, though she didn’t know whether she did so aloud or just to herselves.

“None of us are,” Beatrix said back, barely a whisper, almost a hiss in the shadows of black trees and blacker shadows.

“And yet, we are,” Reya gave Beatrix a tender smile, and Beatrix scoffed back in mock exasperation. “You are. You are both of us and neither of us.”

“And losing my mind,” Aurelia said.

“Or maybe finding it,” Beatrix countered.

“How?”

“There are three of us,” Reya explained. “You are more than just the sum of our parts. And that comes with advantages.”

“For example, me being able to keep watch while the two of you navel-gaze,” Beatrix teased.

“Hush, dear,” Reya said with a smile. She turned back to Aurelia. “But yes. Beatrix will keep watch over the shadows while you and I try and find an understanding.”

“Of what?”

“Of where we go from here,” said Reya.

“We shouldn’t be in the Syndicate,” Beatrix said absently. Her one glowing eye seemed to flit back and forth, peering into the dark. “The Bratva are are dangerous as Chromium.”

Aurelia scoffed. “Then you haven’t been paying attention.”

“If they find that the Realmpact can be so easily manipulated,” Reya began.

“Easily?” Aurelia asked.

“They will stop at nothing to match and surpass Rhuell’s stature,” Reya finished. She gave Aurelia a pointed look. “The Syndicate makes for dangerous bedfellows.”

“You never complained before,” Beatrix said playfully, with an air of ease for the first time.

“Complained? No, that’s true,” Reya said with a soft, whistful smile.

Aurelia felt like she was intruding, like she was witnessing a conversation she was not meant to, something private and intimate between two lovers; like a child looking at their parents. But even that wasn’t an accurate portrayal.

“You cannot hide your thoughts from us,” Reya said. And even her tone was motherly.

“Why are you here?” Aurelia asked, more forcefully this time. “Why are you doing this? Why torment me?”

“Torment you? No,” Reya sighed. “Never. We’re here because you need us. Because for the first time since you came to be you are not alone; and there are others relying on you. We are here to watch over you in the dark,” she glanced to Beatrix. “To help you bear our burden, and to tell you: you need not feel alone. Because you never were.”

Beatrix took that moment to step away from the shadowed boughs. “That’s especially true now.” Her voice was hard, with a worried edge. “Something’s here. Wake the others.”

Then they were gone, and Aurelia was left with only the forest and the snores of her newfound compatriots.

And a single cracking twig echoing through the dark.

She gave a cry of warning and the black gaze she’d inherited from Beatrix pierced through the darkness as forms came into focus. Four became clear, gliding through the shadows like sharks in the water. Aurelia couldn’t piece out the rest, but the darkness rippled with their movements. There were certainly more -- perhaps more than even the Realmless.

“Well, hello there,” said a voice from the lead figure. Despite the playful tone, it was a hard sound. Aurelia recognized the accent - a common one among Syndicate nobility. His “hello” sounded almost like a kh, a rolling in the back of the mouth. A strong scent filled the air; coppery at first, and then acrid like a chemical fire. “Nice night to be enjoying a camp-out under the stars.” Rolled “r”s and longer vowels, the tone falling towards the end of his sentence.

“Of course such a strange thing to be doing in the Black,” said a woman, pronouncing it almost like blayk. Another aristocrat.

“Syndicate bounties and Imperial ones, our lucky day,” drawled a third voice; more common but not quite provincial. “Haven’t seen this much potential coin in a while.”

“Oh good, they’re waking up,” said the fourth, in the more common-sounding tongue of the third.

The firelight flickered over the first speaker, revealing the grinning face of a Beelzemon. Beside him a BeelStarmon, MagnaKiddmon, and AvengeKiddmon watched the Realmless rise with eager anticipation.

“There are only two ways forward,” said the Beelzemon.

“Please pick the hard way,” the BeelStarmon said with a lazy grin. “It would be a shame to waste this long trip for nothing.”
 
Last edited:

TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
Versa Victa (BeelStarmon)
- The Black Coast -


Sleep never came to Versa. She might have dozed off a few times. It was honestly hard to tell with her mind so preoccupied and her body so tired. But she always snapped back to attention the moment her conscious mind caught her easing into thoughts too close to dreams.

She was home again.

That thought should have felt at least somewhat comforting. After all, it was the aristocrats she hated. The buyers and sellers and revelers. Everyone who had a silver tongue and a gilded knife. Not the common folk. Not her friends. Her family. They were here too. Faces she hadn't seen in years. Names she hadn't heard in ages. Part of her wondered if they'd even recognize her. The last time any of them had seen her, she had been a sullen little Witchmon, eyes always on the ground. Never daring to speak out of turn except behind closed doors. Her fire was hidden away under a jar, kept safe and secret to grow and burn. A far cry from the woman she was now who held her torch up high for the world to see, for better or worse.

She found herself staring at Ajax again and wondering if he was getting any sleep either. It was hard to tell with the armor. Then she turned and glanced over towards Aakio who was definitely fast asleep. He seemed to have dozed off the moment his watch was over. She didn't blame him. He wasn't used to this kind of life, and as much as she wanted to she couldn't hold that against him. At least he was here now.

Then her eyes found the back of that Mastemon and Versa sighed inwardly. Just when she was starting to crack Ajax's shell, she had told them off like she was Versa's mother and killed that conversation where it stood. It was probably the right call, all things considered. Now was hardly the time for idle chit chat. But Versa really didn't want to just let that slide.

A twig snapped somewhere beyond the tree line and Versa's gun was trained on the sound before Aurelia voiced her warning.

As much as she hated it, these woods were still *her* woods. Her eyes were made for this inky black and he pinpointed the shadowy forms creeping up on their camp immediately. Three... no, four in the front. Two with near identical silhouettes. And more further in the woods. A lot more.

Versa rose to a crouch, guns at the ready and trained on the first of the figures as they emerged from the tree line.

“Well, hello there,” said a voice from the lead figure. A voice dripping with that slimy aristocrat flair. Versa wanted to gag. The first chance she got, she was putting a bullet through his throat if only to spare her ears the assault of his voice.

“Of course such a strange thing to be doing in the Black,” said a woman, also with equal oily grime on her words.

“Syndicate bounties and Imperial ones, our lucky day,” drawled a third voice; more common but not quite provincial. “Haven’t seen this much potential coin in a while.”

And there it was. Versa knew this was coming, but she hadn't expected it to happen this soon. In town, yes. Bounty hunters were as common as weeds in the underbellies o9f the Syndicate cities. But to encounter a party of this size out in the middle of the woods on the outskirts of Syndicate territory? Either their luck was absolutely rotten (which was a valid option given the day they've all had), or eyes had been on them since the Black Coast.

The first speaker stepped into the light and revealed himself to be a Beelzemon. Beside him a BeelStarmon, MagnaKiddmon, and AvengeKiddmon watched the Realmless rise with eager anticipation.

“There are only two ways forward,” said the Beelzemon.

“Please pick the hard way,” the BeelStarmon said with a lazy grin. “It would be a shame to waste this long trip for nothing.”

Versa tested her side. Her wound was still tender, but it would hold. She could fight, as long as this didn't drag out.

The ground shook alongside the sound of grinding metal as Jericho rose to his full, impressive height. "It would be a shame if this trip was your last." he said without an ounce of fear or uncertainty in his metallic, growling, voice. "Though if you'd prefer to die tonight, I can oblige you."

Versa was on Jericho's team and the rumble in his voice was putting her on edge.

Aakio and the others were moving to their feet now. Taking positions, assessing the situation.

Versa didn't want to miss the moment. She'd let Jericho's threat hang for another breath, but if any of the four targets in front of did anything besides step backwards, she was firing.
 

Kamotz

God of Monsters
< Goliath Leonhardt >

Goliath rolled to his feet in a single swift motion as a cracking twig ripped him from sleep. There was a brief exchange between the Realmless and the figures in the dark as the rest of them stirred. Goliath could make out a quartet of demons at their forefront. A Beelzemon, BeelStarmon, and a pair of Kiddmon led the group.

“I know your kind likes easy money,” Goliath snarled. He inched his hand towards his blade. “But this will not be easy. You’d be better served avoiding the embarrassment and injury this will cost you.”

It drew only chuckles and snickers from the shadowed figures. But he’d say anything to draw this out and give the Realmless a chance to gain their footing and bearings.

As the Realmless gathered their wits and closed ranks, more of the demonic hunters stepped into the light. Jericho, and Versa answered the demons’ thinly-veiled threats of violence with their own overt threats, prompting the remaining demons to emerge into the flickering firelight.

Fifteen in total - the four gunslingers that had initially stepped forward, along a host of other dark Digimon. A Murmuxmon and Ravemon stood closest, flanking the Kiddmon pair. A GrandisKuwagamon was already beginning to circle around behind the rest of the Realmless on one side, while a Zanbamon circled the other way. A Kuzuhamon stood at attention, black spells already weaving between her fingers and staff. A Mervamon leaned lazily against the oversized sword she carried, though Goliath could read her stance well enough to know she’d have it drawn and swinging the moment another Digimon came her way. There was a Rosemon who seemed a bit out of place if not for the scowl etched across her face.

A laughing pair; a FlameWizardmon and Mummymon -- outliers in this horde of Mega levels -- stood off to the side. The FlameWizardmon seemed in the middle of some sort of hilarious joke; he kept pointing at them and laughing, struggling to make it to the punch line. The Mummymon grinned with better-contained laughter.

Bringing up the rear of the group were aDoneDevimon and a Reapermon, two Digimon that oozed far more malice than the rest -- though they did this in opposing ways. The DoneDevimon was typical of his kind that Goliath had seen; all wagging tongue and spindly limbs; salivating and manic.

The Reapermon was the opposite; silent, unblinking, barely moving at all. But always watching; its eyes seemed to stare everywhere all at once.

He snarled under his breath. He’d been right about one thing; this would not be easy...for any of them.

“Stay sharp,” he said to the Realmless around him. “Don’t let yourself get cut off from the group or they’ll take you down and use you as leverage against the rest of us.”

Da, maybe,” the Beelzemon said with a drawl and laugh. The accent of a Syndicate highborn. Rolled “r”s and longer vowels, the tone falling towards the end of his sentence. “But I’d rather just gut you and bring the important ones back. Easier to carry. Right, Jeleva?”

The BeelStarmon laughed. “Of course, Greven.” She glanced to the Reapermon. “Skullbriar, kill the big machine that raised his voice at me. And remember to enjoy yourself; we don’t always get a chance to murder robots.”

“Murder this!” Ajax shouted. He sprang up over Goliath’s shoulder, halberd swinging down hard towards the Beelzemon. But he never got close.

A crash of steel-on-steel echoed through the forest; the Mervamon had moved, faster and quieter than Goliath thought she could, and blocked Ajax’s strike. She pushed him back and he regarded her for a moment before they crashed together again.

Bozhe moi,” the Beelzemon -- Greven -- laughed. “This one is angry, eh?” Overhead Aurelia and the DoneDevimon were already at it.

Goliath didn’t let him laugh long. With a snarl he was already at Greven’s throat.
 

TheSequelReturns

Faithful Crusader
Versa Victa (BeelStarmon) & Aakio Daisoujou (Goldramon)
- The Black Coast -



Everything seemed to explode into action all at once. Ajax broke the stand-off with a battle cry, but Versa never got the chance to see if his attack landed or not. She didn't even have time to pull the trigger on her shot at the Beelzemon before a barrage of bullets forced her to sidestep. An Avenge Kidmon with a grin that was equal parts wicked and excited was already halfway too her with his still-smoking finger guns lined up for a second burst.

Versa raised her own pistols hoping to make him flinch, but he didn't seem to care and fired again. Versa fired off a pair of shots and spun to the ground. One of his rounds tore a chuck out of her hair as she fell, but she was otherwise no worse for wear. Her shots went wide, of course, but her Fly Bullets would take care of that. Versa watched as the Avenge Kidmon swung his arm to the side and knocked her Fly Bullets out of the air before they could strike home. Well, so much for that plan.

"You think I don't know how to deal with these cheap tricks?" he sneered.

"Wanna press your luck?" Versa asked. She spun to her feet and emptied her guns in a burst of rapid fire in all directions. Even as she spun, she was moving to close the distance. If this guy wanted to be a marksman, than she would bring a knife to gun his gun fight.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have the same idea. He fired a burst of energy from his leg cannon and closed the distance to her in a flash with his other leg raised for a kick. Versa slammed her palms down on his metallic leg at the last moment and catapulted herself upwards as the heat from his Destruction Trigger washed over her. Her mufflers were already reaching down for his neck when the wound in her chest flared up again and she flinched. It was only a small moment, but it cost her the advantage. The Kidmon slipped backwards with a flap of his wings and moved to shoot her in the back, but had to stop to deal with her Fly Bullets as they arced in from different directions.

She drew her knives as she turned through the air, ready to strike back before the Avenge Kidmon could react. That was when she felt something grab her and pull her back. Something familiar. Aakio's arm wrapped around her and pulled her from the sky as he fly past. Her initial reaction was to turn and yell at him for ruining her attack, but the barrage of Fly Bullets that tore through the air she was in a second ago stopped the words cold.

Aakio hit the ground and let her go, the two of them taking back-to-back ready stances without missing a beat. Across from Versa, the Avenge Kidmon plucked the last Fly Bullet from the air and crushed it between his fingers. Across from Aakio, a Beelstarmon stepped out of the darkness, twirling a gun around her finger and wearing a smirk that reminded Versa a little too much of her mother.

A flash of blue light appeared as Aakio flicked his wrist and Umon darted over to Versa. It zapped her injury, numbing the pain, before vanishing. "Thanks," Versa mumbled.

"Don't thank me yet," Aakio said, "Its just a temporary fix."

"Isn't that sweet," Jeleva said. Her accent wasn't as strong as that smarmy Beelzemon, but it still made Versa want to puke. "What do you think Nekusar? Comrades or lovebirds?"

The Kidmon shrugged. "We could always kill one and find out. I'll buy the drinks if you bag one first."

These bastards were betting over their lives. Versa spat on the ground. "Come and try it."

"I'll cover you." Aakio said, but Versa placed a hand on his arm.

"No, we do this together. Just like old times."

Aakio grinned a grin that Versa hadn't seen in quite some time as his fists started to glow with energy and the two of them moved for the Beelstarmon in perfect sync. It was just like their days raiding Metal Empire patrols. Identify the high value target, take them down in one swift motion, then mop up the rest. She could hear Nekusar swear as he lined up a shot only to realize that Jeleva was in the line of fire. He had to close the gap or sidestep, and either one would give them time to strike. Jeleva fire a volley of Fly Bullets in a much more controlled burst than Versa's usual and tried to give her partner a clear line of fire but Amon circled around her and snapped at her arm with his fiery maw.

Versa went low, knives drawn. Aakio went high, one arm directing Amon while the other crackled with Umon's electricity. It would have gone perfectly had Aakio not taken a group of bullets from Nekusar right before he hit. Several of the shots went wide, one grazing Jeleva's shoulder, but the rest of the shots hit home. But Aakio had been through worse and he wasn't going to miss this shot. His electrified fist connected with Amon and the entire clearing went bright as daylight for a split second.

"God Flame!"

The blast of holy flame blew a crater into the ground beneath Aakio and threw up a huge cloud of dust. Jeleva came tumbling out of the side, bruised but still very much in the fight, but Versa was ready and slaced at her legs with her blades. One struck home and she took a snap-kick to the chin for her trouble. Versa's vision swam with stars and she tasted blood as she tumbled to a stop and righted herself.

Aakio rose up out of the dust cloud, one arm lowered towards the Beelstarmon as he sent Amon back out to attack. Jeleva was between the two of them now. They had her pinned, but they ad seconds at most before Nekusar spoiled the advantage. It was now or never. Versa used her mufflers to kick off the ground as she sprinted forward with a knife in one hand and her rapidly firing gun in the other.


---


Jericho Arcos (Rust Tyranomon)
- The Black Coast -



Jericho roared as the battle began. In battles past, his roar would have chilled the blood of any rank and file lined up to face him. But this Reapermon, this Skullbriar, had nothing but the cold of death in its veins. Jericho was a machine. He was used to cold logic and unfeeling calm. But this was something more, something deeper. The Reapermon was less like a machine and more like something dark and dead trapped in a metallic shell. It laughed as it charged, but it was neither manic nor malicious. It was empty, like a gesture done as an afterthought.

Though it was an entirely new feeling, Jericho felt his own oil temperature drop a few degrees as Skullbriar challenged him head on. The Reapermon wasted no time, moving to launch his Guilty Chain and trying to whip it around Jericho's huge frame. But no one was better suited to dispatch machines than he was and he had not been giving his freedom only to die here and now to this cheap façade of death.

Jericho bellowed out a cloud of Rust Breath knowing it would slowly but surely reduce that chain into dust before venting his pent up thermal energy to give his old legs a boost. The chain latched around his upper body, there was no dodging that, but his raised leg caught the chain's lead and pinned it to the ground beneath his massive bulk.

Skullbriar tore through the cloud of rusty flames with his sickle raised for a death blow. Jericho's armor was made of some of the thickest, sturdiest plating he knew of, but something told him that Skullbriar would find a way to slip that blade into his vitals with ease if give the chance. He wouldn't, couldn't give him that chance. Jericho lowered his head and took the sickle blade's strike across his well plated forehead. The blade was wickedly sharp, so much that it actually cut a notch into his head-armor, but Jericho pushed back and held firm even as his own arm grabbed Skullbriar's foot and tossed him to the ground.

The Reapermon hissed. It was such a metallic tone, that it was hard to tell if it was his voice or something mechanical, but said nothing else as he righted himself. For once, Jericho was glad to face an opponent that didn't want to run their mouth. It was easier to kill when you didn't know who you were killing. He at least had the benefit of this one's name. Most of his victims hadn't even been that lucky.

Skullbriar stood up, pulling his chain tight with one arm even as he motioned towards the ground with the other. Jericho's instincts told him to run, but he was almost too slow. The ground beneath his feet split open as flames erupted all around him. But Jericho was forged in fire. He would endure. His sensors all began to trip, each one warning of an impending overheat. He let the cacophony fade out of his mind and turned all of his attention back to his opponent. No quarter, no chances.

Jericho bellowed another roar as he surged forward. The Reapermon's chain was still wrapped tightly around him, but now it was Jerichio's weapon. He slammed his tail down hooking the chain and pulling it even tighter. He pulled Skullbriar completely off balance and slammed the Reapermon's face into the dirt. But he didn't miss a beat and he turned the fall into an attack of his own even as Jericho closed in for a finishing blow. The Reapermon spun, reeling in his chain to give himself more momentum, as he wreathed himself in flames. Skulls laughed back at Jericho from within the inferno as the vortex pulled him in. But Jericho didn't fight it. Fear would get you killed. Instead, he moved even faster charging headfirst into the inferno and slamming into Skullbriar with his full body weight. The Reapermon tumbled out of the fire with that ceaseless grin still plastered on his face as Jericho vented the excess heat in a cloud of steam.

Oil dripped from a fresh cut to his torso. It was so hot that it was boiling, each drop sending up a hiss of steam from the damp ground. Skullbriar was crafty, but Jericho had dealt with worse. He snarled as the two charged each other again, their fight sending shockwaves through the air with each clash.
 

Kamotz

God of Monsters
Sunhome, Fortress of the Legion

His eyes opened for the first time. For the longest few moments, he didn't know what or who he was. He was simply surrounded by a white light. Then the light began to break away, and the world around him was revealed. He stood in the middle of a large metal room filled with machines. Wires ran from the machines and connected to his chest. He looked down at himself, but didn't recognize what he saw.

He was armored white, but remembered differently. He remembered golden-colored armor...or was it blue? His head hurt. The white-armored warrior glanced down to his hands, and found faces staring back at him. He remembered seeing the horned gauntlet on his left hand: he remembered looking through its eyes and looking at it. He remembered the wolf's face on his right hand: he remembered looking through its eyes and looking at it.

What was he? Who was he?

"Ah, you're awake," a voice said. He spun around, and the force of his movements hurled away the strange devices surrounding him. His movements felt strange. He threw a leg out to catch himself, his body felt strange and unwieldy. His foot drove partway through the floor and he stumbled gracelessly to his ass.

He struggled upright , but only succeeded in throwing himself down to his knees.

"Easy, easy," the same voice said. The MagnaAngemon approached with open hands and made a slow calming gesture. "This must be disorienting. Take a moment. Get your bearings."

Several other machine Digimon walked up behind the MagnaAngemon. They were Angemon and Piddomon, he realized -- less powerful, less perfect forms. Other Digimon emerged as well; and these sent warnings ringing through his head. Alphamon, ShineGreymon, MirageGaogamon, UlforceVeedramon...why? Why had they all come? What did they do to him?

All the white warrior remembered was fighting: he had been fighting a war...and he had died? No. That couldn't be possible. But he remembered pain - more pain than he could have possibly imagined. Screaming and ripping through him twice over.

Had he been captured? Had these Digimon done something to him to make him forget who he was? He regarded them warily; this was not the first time he had encountered these Digimon. He'd seen them before...but where? He struggled, trying to remember, but everything felt...fragmented. Like looking through shattered glass. He couldn't quite piece it together, but he had flashes. Fighting. Running. And--

"No!" the white-armored warrior cried out. He sprang forward and grabbed MagnaAngemon with his right wolf-headed hand and slammed him into the wall. The metal floor warped and twisted in his wake.

"Stop!" It was the ShineGreymon. She leapt forward and tried to stop the white warrior, but he backhanded her and sent her flying through the air. The MirageGaogamon tried to restrain him next; but it was a half-hearted attempt -- he'd been underestimated again -- and the beast knight was thrown back with little more than a shrug.

The UlforceVeedramon struck, driving him away from the MagnaAngemon. He moved with dizzying speed, launching blows at his head and joints, but never engaged his weapons.

They were restraining themselves. They wanted him alive. He could use that.

The UlforceVeedramon struck again, fists ringing against his head. But he hesitated, moving just a fraction too slowly. And then the white-armored warrior leveled him with a sudden and violent headbutt.

The white-armored warrior then turned back to MagnaAngemon and with but a thought, a sword emerged from the dragon-headed hand. He raised the sword to cut the android down. But the Alphamon stopped him. He held his arm at bay.

The white warrior pushed against him, but found no purchase. There was a flurry, and the Alphamon materialized a sword in his right hand. Blades flashed, sparking against one another, but he couldn't break through the Alphamon's guard.

"Good. Again," the Alphamon instructed. It was a...strange request. He surged forward and met the other warrior. Their collision threw the confined lab into disarray and knocked the angel Digimon off their feet.

He swung his weapon with all his might, desperate to break through and break free; to escape. But it was like trying to fight with a mountain on each limb. Everything felt off; felt wrong. He was fighting his own body almost as much as he was fighting the Alphamon.

"Jaeger. Surrak. Enough," Alphamon ordered.

There was a power in that voice, a calmness. The two names opened something deep within the white-armored warrior, and flashes of memory tore through him. He stopped in his tracks with a roar on his lips. He remembered things now. He remembered who he had been...both of them. Each memory he had belonged to two beings, and yet he knew he was neither of them.

"What did you do to me?" he demanded quietly.

"Chromium brought you two to the brink of death," Arahon answered. "We stabilized you for some time, but we could only save you by initiating a permanent DNA Digivolution."

"You did this to me? What about the others? Why aren't they here?" He looked for the Realmless, hoping that his comrades were with them.

"Alive and unharmed when last we met," Arahon explained. "Continuing the mission."

"The mission?" he demanded; he felt a well of inexplicable anger bubbling within. Why? "What do you know of the mission? You fought us! Tried to stop us, captured me, and--"

"And learned the truth," Arahon said simply. "As you did, if you can remember."

He struggled, searching through the splinters of Surrak and Jaeger's memories. Words echoed, slightly out of sync. Scenes played out from multiple angles. He'd begin a word only to hear it finished by someone else.

"The Realmpact is a lie," he said. He held that truth and let it take root.

"That may be a simple way of looking at it, but yes," Arahon said. The Alphamon took a moment to explain how they had come into possession of his...bodies.

"Your wounds would not heal, nor would they allow you to pass," said Arahon. He motioned to the laboratory they stood in, now torn to shreds by their back-and-forth. "And so they asked us to save your lives."

"That was not their decision to make," he said. He should not be there. He should not have been at all.

"No," Arahon agreed. "But they had to make it anyway." He nodded to the other Legion soldiers, who had yet to drop their guard. It was subtle, but they relaxed and stepped back to give them some space. "The two of you--"

"I am not two!" the white-armored warrior yelled. "I am neither Jaeger nor Surrak."

"Then who are you?"

"I am...I don't know," said the warrior. "I am Omnimon. My name...I don't...I don't have a name, do I?"

"Some names come from without, some come from within," said Arahon. He placed a hand gently on the white warrior's shoulder. "Give it time. Everything is new again."

"If I asked you to end my life, would you?" he questioned. He felt Arahon stiffen, then saw the most imperceptible of nods.

"Before you consider such a request, however," Arahon began. "I'd ask that you take the time to discover who you are now; to see if you can reconcile your new life and your former ones; to see if you are ready to lay down arms, or if this battle still calls to you."

He stepped past the white warrior and with a nod, ushered the rest from the room. "Either way, I will see you tomorrow."
 
Top