Digimon: Devil's Ascent (RPG Thread)

[storymasterb]

Bedivere was caked in burning light, which faded to reveal his Slayerdramon form as he shed his evolution in the aftermath of the battle. He fell to one knee, taking in gasps of breath, the fight against the Witnesses had taken a toll on him.

Vritra gave a snarl of anger and with a beat of her wings, she glided away from the other Peacemakers, landing perched atop a head of rubble as flame crackled around her form, reacting to her burning frustration and rage. The BurningGreymon continued to snarl anger, staving off the feeling of exhaustion running through her. To have to rely on anyone but herself was an experience she loathed, and she silently swore to never allow it to happen again.

What made it worse was not just having to rely on another's power over her own, but how powerless she had been against the Witnesses. Despite all her power, she hadn't even scratched them, and that just made her even angrier. If she didn't know better, she'd have sworn Mephistopheles was laughing at her right then, which made her eyes burn brighter with rage.

"I won't be made a fool of," she snarled bitterly...

-

"Are you alright?"

Bedivere glanced sideways at Guinier, who was looking at him with concern, Caradoc standing just behind her like a shadow.

"Fine," the Slayerdramon murmured, standing up with a glance at Michael. "I'm fine." They both knew he was lying, but Guinier knew raising the issue wasn't needed. Bedivere was just angry, angry that they'd been led into this, angry that Mephistopheles had already taken so much life as an after-effect of breaking a single seal.

"We'll make him pay," Caradoc said, also picking up on the knight's anger. "When we find Mephistopheles, he'll pay for what he's done."

"His wrath undoes the wicked... his might upholds the weak..." Bedivere whispered. "This shouldn't have happened. We should have found Mephistopheles first, before he did this. Vritra was right... we should have found and killed him, before he could cause this to happen."

"We didn't know where he was, and 'what ifs' and 'we shoulds' won't do anything," Caradoc replied. "We can't change what happened here, but we can learn from it and be ready." Bedivere fixed his jet-black comrade with a chill gaze.

"You don't know how it feels to be responsible for this," he said softly. "How many lives were lost, because I preached caution? Because I didn't listen to the advice I was given?"

"You're prepared to listen to her over us?" Caradoc retorted, gesturing to Vritra fierily, his eyes hardening. "Do you even know who she is, Bedivere? Vritra Ahi. She's a mercenary, a cold-blooded killer who sells her services to whoever the hell she thinks will give her a good battle. She doesn't care about who dies, so long as she can kill. That's who you intend to let advise you?"

"If she gives the right advice, then yes!" Bedivere snapped. "If I'd done as she said, this wouldn't have happened." Caradoc shook his head with a bitter sigh.

"You've changed," he said with a bitter tone. "I can understand that you fee guilty, but to even consider..."

"I am your leader!" Bedivere interrupted. "I am the Lord of the Empty Seat, the chosen protector of the Digital World, Caradoc Stern!"

"Shouting at me about your title and prowess changes nothing," Caradoc replied just as sharply. "You think you're a leader? A true leader will listen to each and every suggestion, and make a sound judgment at the time. A true leader doesn't blame those under his command when the wrong choice is made, and he doesn't lament that choice. He moves forward, learning from it as to not repeat his error. So stop shouting, and start planning our next move, Bedivere." With that, he turned and strode away, Guinier following him with a look of disapproval back at Bedivere, whose eyes narrowed, before he gave a sigh of bitterness...

 

[Griff4815]

Pyra growled and strode forwards, hearing the heated argument between Bedivere and Caradoc. "Fighting each other isn't going to help us either," she said firmly, transferring a scowl between Bedivere and Caradoc. "Even if we followed Vritra's advice, we still would have no idea where Mephistopheles is. And Bedivere, I know I'm the last person who should be doing any sort of preaching, but Caradoc has a point. As you probably recall, I have made a grave, irredeemable mistake in the past... but we can't let the past blind us to what must be done in the present. All of us must decide what course of action we should take right now. ...So does anybody have any suggestions?"

Barachiel looked in Michael's direction calmly. "...Could there be any sort of pattern that Mephistopheles is following? Is there any possible way we can figure out his next move?"

"If he broke this seal recently, he can't be far away from Avalon, right?" Gunnar suggested. "I mean, that's assuming he's breaking the seals himself and doesn't have minions of some sort doing this stuff..."

 

[TheSequelReturns]

"You might wanna wait until your knees stop shaking... hero," Gunnar jested, smirking.

Justin turned around slowly to face the ShineGreymon. "What was that Sparkles? If you want to duel, then just say the word. A true hero never backs down form a challenge." The SuperStarmon threw out his gloved fist towards Gunnar as he finished, and he held the pose, waiting for a response.

"A true hero doesn't go around picking fights either." Lucia said as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

He had no choice but to agree. "You do have a point. I'll prove my point next time we face danger. Mark my words Sparkles, I shall outdo you at every turn from this point forward. We'll see who has the true heroic spirit!"

Barachiel looked in Michael's direction calmly. "...Could there be any sort of pattern that Mephistopheles is following? Is there any possible way we can figure out his next move?"

"If he broke this seal recently, he can't be far away from Avalon, right?" Gunnar suggested. "I mean, that's assuming he's breaking the seals himself and doesn't have minions of some sort doing this stuff..."

"We can't rule out that possibility I'm afraid." Duo offered. "If there weren't so many seals, we might stand a better chance of tracking him down."

Justin nodded. "Yes, why did they make six hundred seals if only sixty six needed to be broken? It seems that they would stand a better chance of having less broken if they didn't have so many."

"I'm sure they had their reasons Justin." Lucia said. "But back to more pressing matters, wither or not Mephistopheles was here himself, the fact remains that the seal was broken recently was it not? In that case, either Mr. M or one of his minions should be somewhere around here. Is there any way we could locate them if that's the case?"

 

[Tundra_Wolfmane]

"...You look kind of like a cannonball," he suggested, peering down at him. "I wonder... if we lit one of your sashes on fire, would you eventually explode?"

"I-I-I-I," Shoon stuttered, stepping backwards slowly. "I-I-I...! W-what do you mean? I-I didn't do anything! I said so!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in attempted exasperation. For a few seconds of staying in that position with Khep still giving him the evil eye, he resorted to his fall-through plan. "Run awaaaaaay!" he said, running behind large debris that hid his small body with speed that you wouldn't have guessed for someone with short legs like his.

Of course, he didn't stay hidden for very long.

"Yes, why did they make six hundred seals if only sixty six needed to be broken? It seems that they would stand a better chance of having less broken if they didn't have so many."

"I have an idea!" Shoon suddenly shouted, popping up behind Justin, right across from where he had supposedly jumped from. His eyes were twinkling, seeming to have conveniently forgotten about the GrandisKuwagamon's threat a few seconds ago the moment that he thought he could prove his worth.

"I wondered about that too, but maybe it's because the Demon Lords are so powerful that they need more than one seal, the power of approximately five hundred thirty-five high-level seals, in order to make a barrier strong enough to contain the Demon Lords. As a precaution, they might have added sixty-five more seals, totalling to six hundred seals, so that on the off chance that one of the original five hundred thirty-five seals would be broken, the barrier would still be functional because of the presence of one of the sixty-five extra seals would keep the Demon Lords from breaking out," he said, explaining his idea and showing the intelligence that his mind was capable of. “It also means that there’d be more seals to break instead of just one safety precaution,” he ended, folding his arms smugly. He waited silently with a smile one his face for the praise that most likely wasn’t going to come.

He didn’t move a budge even when Lucia started speaking.

-----------------------------------------

(OOC: I will edit this if Kamotz replies to my question with an okay. If not...forget you read this.)

 

[Griff4815]

Justin turned around slowly to face the ShineGreymon. "What was that Sparkles? If you want to duel, then just say the word. A true hero never backs down form a challenge." The SuperStarmon threw out his gloved fist towards Gunnar as he finished, and he held the pose, waiting for a response.

"A true hero doesn't go around picking fights either." Lucia said as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

He had no choice but to agree. "You do have a point. I'll prove my point next time we face danger. Mark my words Sparkles, I shall outdo you at every turn from this point forward. We'll see who has the true heroic spirit!"

"You're on, Twinkle!" Gunnar responded, raising his fist, expanding his shimmering wings, and pointing at him with his other hand. "And by the way, the Etemon impersonators club is that way." He grinned and pointed back in the direction of Anatolia.

Meanwhile, Khep chuckled to himself as he scared Shoon off temporarily. However he soon reappeared behind Justin.

"Simmer down, hotshots," Kheprius said, rolling his eye. "You'll both get to do your over-the-top heroic crap during our next encounter."

"I wondered about that too, but maybe it's because the Demon Lords are so powerful that they need more than one seal, the power of approximately five hundred thirty-five high-level seals, in order to make a barrier strong enough to contain the Demon Lords. As a precaution, they might have added sixty-five more seals, totalling to six hundred seals, so that on the off chance that one of the original five hundred thirty-five seals would be broken, the barrier would still be functional because of the presence of one of the sixty-five extra seals would keep the Demon Lords from breaking out," he said, explaining his idea and showing the intelligence that his mind was capable of. “It also means that there’d be more seals to break instead of just one safety precaution,” he ended, folding his arms smugly. He waited silently with a smile one his face for the praise that most likely wasn’t going to come.

"It's just too bad that they didn't think to make it so that all six hundred of the seals had to be broken," Khep muttered. "Sounds like the Holy Host got a bit too cocky when designing this system, doesn't it? 'Six hundred seals? No, they'll never get past sixty-six!'"

Barachiel narrowed his eyes in irritation at Khep's suggestion that the Holy Host had committed the sin of Pride. "I am sure that that was not the reason, Kheprius..." Barachiel said, his voice calmed, though not without the bitterness added at the end. "And blaming the Holy Host now is no better than blaming ourselves. You are only adding to our problems. Instead, why don't you help us by thinking of a solution?"

Kheprius locked eyes with his secret brother and narrowed his red optic. "As you command... Terrak."

 

[PeeGee]

Dedigivolving into Phantomon, Kole fell to the ground, still moaning in pain.

"Kole are you alright?" asked Tia, rushing over to the Phantomon.

"Yeah, I am fine," replied Kole, "Though I think that I might need a little while before I can digivolve again."

"Well that is sort of understandable," said Tia. "Can you get up?"

"I don't really know," moaned Kole, "I'll give it a try."

The phantom swayed from side to side, and slowly he started to rise. Suddenly he fell to the ground, Tia catching the ultimate digimon.

"Perhaps I should help you," said the Bastemon, "You know, just in case."

"Yeah," agreed Kole.

"Hey, Deva, think you can get your master to use whatever powers he has to give us an advantage over Mephistopheles?"

"Lord Seiryu has done all he can, you impotent bug!" snapped Hira, sore over not being able to defeat the digimon. "And don't talk about my master, you have no right!"

The Mihiramon couldn't believe that Seiryu wanted him to help this bunch, it only seemed like a few digimon were even worth his time. And there was the fact that they had allowed demons into the group!

 

[Kamotz]

"Bedivere," Michael said, turning to regard the dragon knight. "Shut up. You're nothing in this. You're less than nothing. And your ignorance is sickening. Lord of the Empty Seat indeed, you travel down a familiar path to your own self-induced demise. Or did you suspect the title meant nothing?"

Barachiel looked in Michael's direction calmly. "...Could there be any sort of pattern that Mephistopheles is following? Is there any possible way we can figure out his next move?"

"Some seals are more easily broken than others," Michael answered. "They would be what one would typically go after. That is where one would expect Mephistopheles...but to expect his actions is to play into his hands."

"If he broke this seal recently, he can't be far away from Avalon, right?" Gunnar suggested. "I mean, that's assuming he's breaking the seals himself and doesn't have minions of some sort doing this stuff..."

"If Mephistopheles is any sort of sorcerer he can travel across the world in a moment's notice," Thor said, shaking the dust and ash from his wings. "Loki just showed us that. And Duo's right. Alone, Mephistopheles would not stand a chance if he came across us, I would be quite surprised if he did not recruit some form of assistance."

"I wondered about that too, but maybe it's because the Demon Lords are so powerful that they need more than one seal, the power of approximately five hundred thirty-five high-level seals, in order to make a barrier strong enough to contain the Demon Lords. As a precaution, they might have added sixty-five more seals, totalling to six hundred seals, so that on the off chance that one of the original five hundred thirty-five seals would be broken, the barrier would still be functional because of the presence of one of the sixty-five extra seals would keep the Demon Lords from breaking out," he said, explaining his idea and showing the intelligence that his mind was capable of. “It also means that there’d be more seals to break instead of just one safety precaution,” he ended, folding his arms smugly. He waited silently with a smile one his face for the praise that most likely wasn’t going to come.

"It's just too bad that they didn't think to make it so that all six hundred of the seals had to be broken," Khep muttered. "Sounds like the Holy Host got a bit too cocky when designing this system, doesn't it? 'Six hundred seals? No, they'll never get past sixty-six!'"

"Shoon is more-or-less correct," Michael answered, turning to Khep with an angry glare. "As it was, the Inferno was a maelstrom of fire without shape or form. In the war with the fallen angels, the Demon Lords were defeated one-by-one, and their black and twisted souls were drawn into that fire. When I struck down Lucifer and Satan, the Host's leaders knew they had to act quickly. They used powerful magic to manipulate the Inferno and transform it into a prison: a physical place that they could hold the Demon Lords for all time. They needed locks so they created the seals. The six hundred angels of the Grigori gave their lives to create them, and once the spell was complete there was no going back to change it. They knew only sixty-six would need to be broken; that's how powerful the Inferno is, but those were desperate times."

"No less than now," Samael quipped. "It'd be helpful if we could repair the seals or make some new ones."

Their conversation was interrupted by Hira's outburst. The Deva snapped and snarled at Khep.

"Lord Seiryu has done all he can, you impotent bug!" snapped Hira, sore over not being able to defeat the digimon. "And don't talk about my master, you have no right!"

"Shut yer yap, kitty kat," Samael sneered. "We've mouthed off to the ol' blue snake more times than I can count. And uh...how do you figure Khep's impotent? He's shootin' blanks? That's some good ammo there. Pun intended."

"Wait, Khep might have the right idea," said Thor.

"That impotency's the way to go?" Samael asked, his eyebrow raised. "Trouble with the missus, Thoreo?"

"That Seiryu and his brothers might be able to help us," Thor said. He chose to ignore Samael. "The four Harmonious Compass Gods have been known to reveal future events so long as they know what they're looking for. We know what to look for: the Seals. We can ask the four gods to look into the future of the seals."

"We should go now," Michael said, his voice short and quick. "We can't waste anymore time here. It's a dead end."

"What's the rush?" Samael asked.

"The more time we waste here the more time Mephistopheles has to break another seal," Thor said.

Samael shrugged.

"And even worse," Michael said. "If we know this about Seiryu, you can bet Mephistopheles does as well."

==========

Palace of the Harmonious Compass Gods...

A dark figure made his way through the palace towards the throne room of the four gods. As he neared, a contingent of eleven Digimon assembled to oppose him. But none of their weapons, claws, or fangs managed to graze his flesh. A flash of power spread from his eyes and hurled the Devas to the floor, reduced momentarily to their Rookie forms.

"Excuse me," Mephistopheles said with a laugh. "I don't have an appointment, but I'm sure your lords will see me." He flung open the doors to the throne room. "Greetings, lords of the north, south, east, and west. I come with a gift."

"Mephistopheles!" Seiryu roared angrily. "Aurora--"

"Please be quiet," the demon said, raising his hand. A flash erupted and Seiryu's twelve Digicores ensnared the blue dragon with a glowing chain. Another gesture, and the remaining three gods were chained as well. "Much better. Your attacks would work so well if you only stopped speaking them out loud."

"Damn you, demon scum," Suzaku the red sparrow snarled.

"Yes, yes," Mephistopheles said with a dismissive wave. "As I discovered which events would break the seals, I learned an interesting thing: you four can combine your powers and read the future--and with sixteen eyes between you, it's no wonder." He paced back and forth across their throne room. "And what an interesting coincidence that you four were also mentioned in the seals. The blinding of the Old Gods." Mephistopheles's hands and eyes began to glow blood red. "How fortuitous..."

 

[Hotshot]

"And even worse," Michael said. "If we know this about Seiryu, you can bet Mephistopheles does as well."

Nocchi stamped his foot down and said, "Then let's get outta here! We're wastin' time shootin' out mouths off! I knew all along we should be goin' to see Seiryu, but you guys wouldn't let me get a word in!"

His nose promptly grew several inches.

Gigas placed his huge hands on his hips. Ivy and Sha followed his example. Scowling at the Puppetmon, the three Digimon growled, "Nocchi."

Nocchi cringed. "Alright, fine. So I wasn't actually thinking that."

Ivy turned to stare over the ruins of Avalon, her home city, once again. She hadn't realized what she was getting herself into when she decided to join the trio of Nocchi, Sha, and Gigas. She hadn't realized how much heartbreak they must have suffered, how many deaths they must have seen, how many comrades they must have lost.

She looked back at her husband, the massive insect that stood with the other Peacemakers. How much had he been forced to endure? And could she do the same?

She jumped a little when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. Whirling around, she discovered Sha standing there, a smile on his face. "Cha-haw. You're worried. I can tell," the Shawjamon chuckled. "Don't worry. Everything's going to be alright. And we'll pull ya through it all, 'kay?"

Ivy nodded. "Thanks, Sha."

"No problemo, Mrs. Kranatos!"

 

[Griff4815]

"Great, let's go see the Sovereigns then!" Gunnar said, turning away from Justin and giving a thumbs up to the rest of the group.

"Yeah, let's... And don't get your hopes up, Sammy," Kheprius said, cracking his knuckles and casting a glance to the nearby demon. "I'm thrivingly functional, I'll have you know... If you need proof, I can give you a few addresses, but I don't think I'd want to put them through that."

"Kheprius... silence," Barachiel said as he stifled a grimace.

"Anyways, Stripes, I don't suppose you can lead the way back to your master's place, can ya? I'm sure you've hacked up enough hairballs on Seiryu's doorstep to know where he lives, am I right?"

"Either way, let's get a move on," Pyra said, finding it quite hard to be patient at that moment. "Who knows what he has planned next? It's just a shame we don't have mass teleporting capabilities."

 

[PeeGee]

"Anyways, Stripes, I don't suppose you can lead the way back to your master's place, can ya? I'm sure you've hacked up enough hairballs on Seiryu's doorstep to know where he lives, am I right?"

Hira growled at the bug, he was starting to get annoyed by him.

"I know where he lives, but I am not entirely sure that he would let you enter his sacred abode," snapped the tiger, "He does have standards after all."

"Should we stop him before he gets hurt?" Tia whispered into Kole's ear.

"Nah, it might teach Hira a lesson," replied Kole.

"Let's hope, must be difficult walking with that stick jammed so far up."

 

[Tundra_Wolfmane]

"And even worse," Michael said. "If we know this about Seiryu, you can bet Mephistopheles does as well."

Aeria, who was standing silently near the angel, overheard him when he said this. For some reason, those words instilled a sense of great unease in her, and when she thought about it, she knew why.

"Does...does that mean there's a chance we'll find him with them?" she asked, worried.

Shoon, who was still quite happy about the fact that he was right, also heard, and since he had got one right, he tried to go another. His mind was working on overdrive due to the excitement anyway. He raised his hand, saying, "Oh, oh, oh! Does that mean there's a seal that involves them four too?"

He wasn't exactly paying attention to the possibilities that his words might have opened.

 

[storymasterb]

Bedivere glared fire at Michael, his anger aroused by the Saint's words. He bristled at the comments, how they stung at his pride and honor as a knight.

"I will not follow Artorius down that path," he spat, despite attempting to reign in his anger, he was failing badly. "Lord of the Empty Seat... to be lord of the circle, yet not sit within it. I am of a different class, I understand that fact."

"But just because I am not an angel, Michael Ha'Yisrael, does not mean I cannot lead us against demons. Remember, you called on me, and the rest of us." He turned away, glaring at the MagnaAngemon. "You called on us, knowing our strengths and our faults. If you're done being so holier-than-thou, we need to get to the four before Mephistopheles does." With that, he strode away, fists still clenched, eyes still burning...

-

Vritra shook her head, their petty quarrels were only making things worse. But then she should have expected it, they were concerned with higher things, more power, greater stations. Their souls constantly strove for more, and so they came into conflict with one another in their self-assured pride.

She was not the same. She wanted nothing more than combat, the fires to war to briefly quench her thirst for the flames. Let them have their ranks, their titles, their soldiers, she needed nothing but her own strength.

"Your pettiness is sickening," she snapped to Michael, and in part to Bedivere, landing beside the archangel. "Act like children if you please. Bicker and quarrel all day if you so wish. But don't expect me to stand here and accept it. So the both of you, shut up, and get on with it. You can shout at each other to your heart's content when this is done and that demon scum is a headless corpse at our feet." With that, she flapped her wings, and took flight, embers scattering from the burning shrouds to wash over Michael like crimson raindrops...

 

[Griff4815]

A soft wind blew through the vast grassland that sat below a mountain that reached up and touched the clouds. Near the base of the mountain stood a town containing a hundred or so buildings. Digimon of all ages went about their business within the hamlet. It was quiet; peaceful.

Tyr's bare feet walked through the dew-ridden blades of grass as he walked in the direction of the village. However, he was not headed for the town itself, but instead a structure several hundred meters away from the town. Tyr no longer needed Tiwaz's guidance to find what he was looking for.

The smell of smoke entered Tyr's nostrils and he could feel heat graze the front of his body. Before him stood the life-sized statue of an AncientGreymon, surrounded by a ring of tempestuous fire that lit up the white statue within. The AncientGreymon was Tiwaz.

"This is it..." Tyr said softly, gazing up above him at the statue in awe. He was finally able to see his ancestor in his entirety, not just through his eyes or as a vision in his mind. The VictoryGreymon glanced to the left, towards the village. "This is the village you saved..."

"It is," Tiwaz replied. "So I killed that final Dexmon after all..."

Tyr looked back forwards at the memorial. The marble statue had Tiwaz in a fighting pose, but still managed to capture his valiance. Even Tiwaz's goggles were carved out on Tiwaz's helmet. The detail was astonishingly good.

The emerald eyes of the VictoryGreymon slowly looked down into the blaze surrounding the statue. The fire felt familiar to him. The fire was unmistakeably that of Tiwaz's.

They were more than just flames of ruin... They were flames of courage, flames of valour, of gallantry, of passion, friendship, power...

"The burning flames of one's heart can never be extinguished," an unfamiliar voice said from Tyr's left.

The VictoryGreymon turned his head in surprise to see an EmperorGreymon walking towards him, giving Tyr a slight wave his hand.

"Greetings, traveller..." greeted the EmperorGreymon, walking over to Tyr's side before turning his attention to the flame-endowed statue. "You're wondering how that fire is burning, aren't you?" he questioned.

"Uhh... sort of..." Tyr replied.

"They are the controlled, draconic flames of the heart of Tiwaz Koenig... the final member of the Great Ten before he sacrificed his life for the sake of this town and its occupants," the EmperorGreymon begun explaining. "Back during the unleashment of the Death-X hordes, five Dexmon were upon this town, minutes away from decimating it. Tiwaz was the only one close enough to combat them... He came to their defence in the hopes of buying the villagers enough time to escape. Tiwaz was able to kill four of them but was mortally wounded in the process. With his final breaths, he was able to clash with the remaining Dexmon a final time and they both killed each other."

Tyr looked at the EmperorGreymon, following his every word, despite experiencing the tale up to that point first hand.

"When the Death-X incursion was finally quelled, the citizens came together in sorrow and thanks to build this statue to forever remember Tiwaz's sacrifice for their sakes," he explained, pulling his gaze away from the statue to lock eyes with Tyr's. "...The flames are the remnants of Tiwaz's final attack. They have remained eternal since that day and the citizens placed the statue directly in the middle of them."

The EmperorGreymon then bent down on one knee towards the statue and bowed his head, paying his respects. He then stood up and faced Tyr, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "My apologies; where are my manners? I am Hoenir Koenig, High Defender of this area," he said, outstretching his other hand.

"'Koenig'?" Tiwaz thought in shock.

"...'Koenig'?" Tyr asked, looking at Hoenir in surprise as he shook his hand.

"Yes. I am a descendant of Campion Koenig, one of Tiwaz's two sons. I'm a direct descendant of Tiwaz," he explained. The two released each other's hands from their equally sturdy grips.

Upon doing so, Tyr couldn't help but look back towards the everlasting flames. "The fire doesn't burn the statue," Tyr mused. Hoenir wasn't sure if that was a question or an observation.

"No... 'While fire can represent death and destruction, that's a steriotypical, close-minded understanding of the meaning of flame... for it can also represent life and rebirth,'" Hoenir quoted.

"...That sounds familiar," Tyr murmured, a flickering feeling of nostalgia striking him as he listened.

The EmperorGreymon grinned. "...Tiwaz told his sons that, and they eventually passed it down to their sons until I was told it by my father," he explained.

Tiwaz listened carefully from within Tyr. He remembered that day fondly, telling his sons what exactly that meant. He remembered his family and the life they lived so many ages ago...

Any words that he had for Hoenir or Tyr in that moment disappeared as he took to his memories. Though despite this, Tiwaz felt a small sense of pride for his sons, Campion and Thlayli, that they took his words to heart and passed it onto their offspring after them. He had no doubt that Rizalia raised them well and that they grew up into men that he would have been proud of.

"I see..." Tyr responded to Tiwaz's other descendant, the surprise that someone like him existed beginning to die down. "That's probably why I feel like I've heard it before..."

"What is?" Hoenir asked curiously.

"Well... I'm a Koenig too," Tyr explained. "Tyr Koenig..."

Hoenir stared at him blankly for a few seconds. "You're... a Koenig? Who are you descended from?"

Tyr shifted uncomfortably at the question. "Uhh... I don't really know-- Thlayli Koenig," the VictoryGreymon abruptly said with resolution, much to Hoenir's confusion. Little did the EmperorGreymon know, Tiwaz had told Tyr.

"I, uhh, apparently smell like him," Tyr explained, further relaying Tiwaz's evidence for the claim.

The EmperorGreymon continued staring at him and blinked. "Uhh... well then... It's my pleasure to meet you, Tyr. I guess that means we must be cousins, no?"

"Yeah... I'm glad," Tyr said, smiling a bit.

"So what brings you here, Tyr? Have you come to pay your respects to our ancestor?" Hoenir asked.

"Uhh... sort of," Tyr admitted. "We've been travelling the lands and we decided to stop by here."

"Well, as my cousin, you're free to stay here as long as you want! I have room in my house, if you like," the EmperorGreymon offered amiably. He then looked around, wondering why Tyr pluralized. "You say 'we' though, but I don't see anybody else around..."

"Umm... well..." Tyr stammered, realizing his gaff. "What should I do?"

"We'll show him the truth," Tiwaz explained firmly.

"Okay..." Tyr said, taking a few steps away from the nearby statue and its aura of fire. "You might want to stand back, Hoenir..."

"Of Ancient flame, my heart burneth hard. On blade's fine edge, be oneth your guard. To protect my friends, I go all lengths. Fires of old, I embrace your strengths! Ancient Evolution! AncientGreymon!"

Much to the EmperorGreymon's surprise and confusion, Tyr began digivolving... though it wasn't until the new form revealed itself did Hoenir react. From the shimmering light emerged a familiar, goggle-donned AncientGreymon who posed heroically next to Tiwaz's marble representation.

Hoenir gaped in shock to the point that he was almost in a reverie as he gawked at his thought to be dead, goggle-wearing hero of an ancestor. "I... I... How... That's... You're... But..." he stammered as his eye twitched. "You... T-Tiwaz!" Hoenir finally brought himself to take to his knee and bow deeper before Tiwaz than he had ever bowed before. Tiwaz rolled his eyes.

"Oh, show a backbone, won't you?" Tiwaz scolded, looking down at his descendant. "You're a Koenig, for Perun's sake!"

"Sorry, sir!" Hoenir quickly apologized, hopping to his feet.

"'Tiwaz' is fine, Hoenir..." The living, breathing AncientGreymon then turned to his marble counterpart, adjusting his blue goggle on his helmet with his forearm as he did.

"No, no... the snout is all wrong. And my teeth are waaay sharper than this! Hoenir, does the left cannon look smaller than the right one, to you...?"

 

[Kamotz]

Michael's eyes followed Vritra's path through the sky and he wondered why he had summoned her. It seemed whatever issues he was having with Bedivere stemmed from the fact that the dragon knight was so wholeheartedly embracing the ridiculous ideas Vritra proposed. While Michael would like nothing more than to confront Mephistopheles and kill him, there was no way to accomplish that now. Vritra, however, seemed intent on barking her idea every several minutes.

"You can always do what she does," Samael suggested. He'd overheard Vritra and guessed Michael's frustration. "You can growl and glower and huff and go on about how you want to kill something because you're so grim and grumpy and dark and two-dimensional." He hoped his joking comments would ease Michael's mood.

"I have known many gods like her, who wanted for nothing but to fight and kill. Some were enemies and some were allies," Michael said, turning to Samael. "But the one thing they all had in common was that they all died hollow and empty deaths, and no one remembers their names."

"Yeowch," Samael muttered. "That's harsh. Wonder if she knows--"

"We must go," Thor said, purposefully interrupting them, their line of conversation was getting nowhere. "You were right about Mephistopheles. We need to reach Seiryu and the others before he does. Hira and I know the way best. Everyone, we fly low and fast. Those of you who cannot fly, either stay close or hitch a ride." Thor spread his wings; he and Hira led the group.

Samael let out a sharp whistle and the Behemoth roared up beside him. He turned to Tia with a smirk. "Hey, pretty lady, you want a ride?" he asked. He turned to Duo, Lucia, and Justin. "How 'bout you guys? I've never done threesies, but we can give it a try. Who wants the handlebars? Duo? It feels like you."

===

The flight to the palace of the Harmonious Compass Gods took roughly an hour for the Peacemakers. The palace doors were thrown wide open, leaving a pit in Michael's stomach as they came upon it. The large group made their way cautiously but quickly through the entranceway and towards the great hall. The sight of eleven unconscious and disabled Rookie Digimon gave them pause.

"These are--?"

"The other Devas," Thor said, interrupting Samael and looking to Hira. "They still live," he assured the winged tiger. "But they must be attended to quickly."

"Lucia. Ivy. Attend to the Devas," Michael said. "Justin, Shoon, Pyra, and Gunier: spread out and see if there's any sign of Mephistopheles. The rest of you, with me: we're going to the great hall. Stay alert."

Michael carefully led the rest of the group down the corridors towards the massive door that led to the throne room of the Compass Gods. A dark aura coated the heavy metal. Michael placed a glowing hand against it and hurled the doors open. A heavy miasma of demonic power forced its way out of the room and drifted past the Peacemakers.

"Don't breathe it in," Michael warned. He raised his hand and forced the miasma away.

As the shroud lifted, the Peacemakers were struck silent by the sight before them. The four Harmonious Compass Gods lay unmoving on the floor; their only signs of life were the shallow rise and fall of their chests. Their eye sockets were hollow and empty: their eyes seared from the heads by Mephistopheles's magic.

"By God," Michael whispered, he closed his eyes and shook his head. "Call Lucia and Ivy here, their wounds are more critical." He turned away in silence as the rest of the Peacemakers went about their tasks. There was no way for them to find Mephistopheles on their own...unless.

Dark magic like the kind used to cripple the four gods was powerful, and it left a terrible scar in the fabric of reality. The scar could be used to find the spellcaster.

"Demon," Michael whispered to the shadows. "I know you're there. Can you track this spell to Mephistopheles?"

=====

The Chess Kingdom...

The armies of the White and Black Chessmon continued in their never-ending war. However, this time a newcomer arrived to the battle. It was a new army: the Red Chessmon army. They stormed onto the battlefield. They cut a swath through the other two armies and within a matter of hours they were victorious. It was a stark change to the back-and-forth of the Chess Kingdom's previous battles. The Red Chessmon army brought with them the concept decisive victory.

At the center of the battlefield, the Red Chess army held captive the royalty of the White and Black Chessmon kingdoms. They were forced to kneel before the Red Chessmon queen.

"The time has come for a new order in the Chess Kingdom," she declared. "One without the pointlessness of the past. Under my rule, the Chess Kingdom will become a true force for power in the Digital World. So what say you? Will you join me willingly?"

"Never!" spat the black QueenChessmon. "We'll never follow you, you bitc--"

She was silenced as the RedQueenChessmon sliced off her head with a quick swing of her axe-headed hammer.

"Any other dissenters?" she asked. None answered. "Good." She turned to her guards. "Take the QueenChessmon to the dungeons." She motioned to the two white QueenChessmon (a mother and daughter) and the remaining black QueenChessmon (the newly-motherless princess of the Black Chessmon).

"And the kings?" one red RookChessmon asked.

"Kill them," the red queen ordered. She turned to the three assembled armies and peoples of the Chess Kingdom. "I am Elizabeth Balthory. I am your new queen."

As the restructuring of the Chess Kingdom began, Elizabeth Balthory made her way to the high plateau from which she launched her invasion. There, a massive burning figure awaited her.

"I thank you for your patronage," she said, bowing to the hulking Marsmon. "War has favored us."

"Mephistopheles has delivered on his deal to you," War said. "He will call upon you to return the favor. Until then, enjoy your reign, Bloody Queen."

Elizabeth bowed and left the plateau.

War opened his palm and produced a sphere of flame. "The red queen has risen in the Chess Kingdom, Mephistopheles," he said to the glowing flames. "Another seal has been broken."

===

Washington, DC. Human World.

"Excellent," Mephistopheles mused as he stared into the flame. He turned back to the human seated humbly before him. "Little Victor Henricksen, oh how you've grown. You're now a warrior, I see. An agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. You and I made a deal all those years ago. It's time for you to pay the piper." Mephistopheles sneered and bent to look into the human's eyes. "You're going to find my other children and bring them to me..."

 

[Griff4815]

Tiwaz paraded through the main street of the town (which, along with the surrounding grass, mountain, and desert area, the citizens renamed "Tiwheim" upon the AncientGreymon's sacrifice.) Flanking or following him were pretty much all of the town's occupance. They cheered, thanked and celebrated the dragon and his return.

While Tiwaz wasn't displeased with all of the attention to his heroics, he didn't exactly bask in their gracious veneration either. He thanked them genuinely with the 'I was only doing my duty', 'That is what heroes do', 'Well, I couldn't just abandon the village to die', and 'No, maam, I will not kiss your baby' sort of thing.

Hoenir led him towards the one tavern they had in the town, which, due to the large amount of Greymon inhabitants, was made big enough to fit even Tiwaz. The AncientGreymon stopped in front of the tavern and looked down at his EmperorGreymon descendant. "Hoenir, I think I will take to my descendant's VictoryGreymon form. It wouldn't be very hero-like of me to drink the tavern's taps dry, now would it?"

"Really, Tiwaz, it would be our pleasure to--" Hoenir begun, but was promptly interrupted by the dragon.

"Enough. I will drank absolutely no more than the High Defender of this area, Hoenir," he declared, casting a slight grin to the said digimon who held that title.

Hoenir nodded, watching as his exalted ancestor shifted into Tyr's VictoryGreymon form. He proceeded to open the door and allow Tiwaz and himself in.

"I do feel off without my goggles though," Tiwaz admitted, fingering his forehead while walking towards the bar and hopping on one of the smaller stools. Hoenir took a seat beside him. Tiwaz looked forward to the Greymon bartender. "I will have what the High Defender here is having," he said, motioning with his head to the EmperorGreymon next to him,

"Err..." Hoenir stalled, suddenly feeling an enomormous pressure of choosing a drink for his hero. "The finest ale we have."

"Tiwaz... Uhh, I don't drink," Tyr said to the dragon.

"Oh, relax," Tiwaz thought, responding to Tyr. "It may be your body, but I'm in control, so I'm the one who will be feeling the effects. Besides, once I become an AncientGreymon again, my body to alcohol intake ratio will increase drastically, which means we won't stay drunk. ...Besides, it will take a lot more than a dozen beers to get Tiwaz Koenig drunk! You can even ask Fenrir about that!"

"Umm... Okay then, I guess..." Tyr responded, still unsure of the idea.

"It's on the house," the Greymon said, bringing over two large mugs filled with ale. "And so are the refills."

Tiwaz smiled and nodded thankfully. He and Tyr were beginning to run out of money since not everyone they met on their travels were so generous as to pay for their essentials. ...And occasionally they would have to pay for various "messes" or "damages" that they made...

"So, Tiwaz... I suppose we should start with the Mammothmon in the room," Hoenir said, first taking a drink from his mug and then looking over at his VictoryGreymon counterpart. "...Sorry if I'm too blunt, but... how are you alive?"

"I would be more offended if you weren't blunt," Tiwaz said, downing half his drink in one swallow. "Well, you said it yourself, Hoenir: 'The burning flames of one's heart can never be extinguished.' ...My power, my essence, lived on through my descendants, even through you, Hoenir... Though Tyr moreso than anybody else. Either through fate, skill, or, as Tyr thinks, dumb luck, he was able to catalyze my power and allow me to rise from the ashes to live again. He insists that he doesn't, but he had the godly spark that was able to make this possible, though the fool he is, he refuses to nurture it."

"So, I'm guessing I would not be able to catalyze your power as well...?" Hoenir asked, looking over at Tiwaz.

"If you're suggesting that you would be able to have an Ancient Evolution where you and I could co-exist, no, that would be impossible, obviously. I'm already in Tyr; there can't be two of me at the same time... However, that's not to say that you cannot tap into my power over flames and harness it as you are," Tiwaz explained, to which Hoenir nodded and took another drink of his ale.

The VictoryGreymon then grew quiet and stared at his mug of alcohol. "...Thlayli and Campion..." he said softly. "...Tell me what you know about them."

"Well, I don't know the full details, Tiwaz... but I do know they both had extremely successful careers in the military and have had feats for which they will both be remembered..." Hoenir explained, ceasing drinking as well.

Tiwaz slowly nodded as he spoke, still staring down into his drink.

"Both Thlayli and Campion lived long and glorious lives... and neither of them died in combat," he explained, growing silent momentarily. He turned to Tiwaz and spoke up again. "...Rizalia, your wife--"

"No," Tiwaz sharply interrupted. He then spoke again, softer, more forlorn. "...No... Please..." he said, tightening his grip on his mug.

He didn't want to hear about her at that moment. Though he refused to show it, it pained him too much to talk about the woman he loved. He had left her suddenly that day in order to save the village that he now sat in to stop the Dexmon. He knew that with his death, he left her alone. While Tiwaz knew that saving the village was the right thing to do, part of him couldn't forgive himself for doing that to Rizalia, knowing full well that he would die even before walking out the door. And now, hundreds of years later, he was alive again and she wasn't.

"I'm... sorry," Hoenir apologized, his gaze softening as he turned back to his beverage.

"Forget about it," Tiwaz said with a dismissive shrug. He took a long drink of his ale, finishing it off. He then placed the empty mug back on the bar, indicating that he wanted a refill, to which the Greymon quickly complied.

After a lingering silence, Hoenir spoke up once again. "...Being the High Defender of Tiwheim, I can't exactly leave here much, but... I heard rumours that the world almost ended six months ago. Something about an Amatsu-Mikaboshi?"

"You heard correctly," Tiwaz said before consuming the froth on the top of his newly poured beverage. "He and his generals slew most of the Royal Knights and decimated most of Avalon and its army. We were part of the Peacemakers. We personally cut down one of the Chaos Generals and we all managed to destroy them and restore peace." Tiwaz ignored Tyr's grimacing at the reminder of when he killed Typhon.

"Thank you again, then..." Hoenir said, raising the mug in his hand in a toasting fashion. "What have you and Tyr been doing since then?"

"Travelling the lands... Tyr needed to do some soul-searching. We have been acting as sort of knights-errant, you could say," Tiwaz explained with a grin. "Going from place to place, keeping the peace, helping others, bringing the evil to justice..."

"That's admirable..." Hoenir said with awe.

"No more admirable than what you do, Hoenir," Tiwaz insisted, moving on to his third drink.

"...My father lives in your house, if you're worried about what became of it."

"...Did he?" Tiwaz said, pausing as he was bringing his mug towards his, or rather, Tyr's, snout. "...If I don't see him, be sure to thank him for me."

Hoenir nodded and finished off his second drink. "Will you both take me up on my offer of staying here for a bit?"

"Yes... but not for long. Heroes know not to take advantage of others' hospitality, and we are knights-errant after all," Tiwaz answered.

"Well..." Hoenir said, raising his glass. "To you."

Tiwaz rolled his eyes. "No... to Tiwheim," he said, raising his own glass in a toast. They then tipped their heads back and downed their drinks in one go.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Justin, Shoon, Pyra, and Guinier: spread out and see if there's any sign of Mephistopheles.

Pyra cast a final glance at the beaten Devas before turning and flying outside alongside Shoon, Guinier and Justin. She didn't like this one bit. The Paildramon flew close to the ground before flying higher up to survey the area.

"Nothing," she growled, scanning both the ground and air for the demon they sought. Pyra flew further out before curving to the side. "He's probably long gone by now... Damn."

Pyra then turned again, flying out farther in search of Mephistopheles. "I hope the Sovereigns are okay..."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the shroud lifted, the Peacemakers were struck silent by the sight before them. The four Harmonious Compass Gods lay unmoving on the floor; their only signs of life were the shallow rise and fall of their chests. Their eye sockets were hollow and empty: their eyes seared from the heads by Mephistopheles's magic.

"By God," Michael whispered, he closed his eyes and shook his head. "Call Lucia and Ivy here, their wounds are more critical." He turned away in silence as the rest of the Peacemakers went about their tasks.

Barachiel's eyes widened slightly, his true inner horror at what Mephistopheles had done barely getting through his calm exterior. "Mephistopheles... Damn you to the infernal pit you crawled out of..." he whispered, feeling his grip of the Royal Meisters tighten.

"Cripes..." Gunnar said in shock, looking in revulsion and loathing at what Mephistopheles did to the four Sovereigns. "That demon prick!" he snapped, pounding his gauntleted fist against the pillar next to him.

"Hey, it wasn't the column's fault," Kheprius jested, watching Gunnar retract his hand. He then turned to Samael and gestured to the four Sovereigns. "Hey, Sam, come on! Have a heart. You've got two more eyes than you need; why not give them some?"

"Kheprius, silence," Barachiel growled, unable to believe that he would not only joke at this time, but also joke at the blinded Sovereigns' expense. "Or perhaps I will use your eye for that purpose as well."

"Hey, hey. Easy there, Terrak," Kheprius responded, in his 'I'm about to antagonize you' voice. "Don't get so worked up in front of Michael. He might end up smiting you for the sin of Wrath. That would jeopardize your career in the Holy Host, wouldn't it?"

Barachiel's clenched fists tightened further. "I wasn't..." he started, but trailed off in an exasperated sigh. His grip loosened and he calmly turned away from his brother. "Gunnar, you and I should secure the palace," he suggested, to which Gunnar agreed. "And, Kheprius, my name is 'Barachiel'. I hope that you remember that..."

With that, the TigerVespamon and ShineGreymon flew down the nearest corridor.

 

[Tundra_Wolfmane]

Shoon heaved, his hands tired after waving for so long trying to catch Pyra’s attention. She might have been ignoring him, but then again, she might have not seen him. So he kept on waving just until Pyra landed.

“You…*pant*…fly so…*pant* …fast,” he panted, leaning against the wall to regain his breath. When he did, he rushed at Pyra.

“Hi, Pyra!” he said, smiling widely. “I haven’t seen you for so long! How’re are you? Have you seen Master? Did he send you letters?” he asked, jumping around her.

He then stopped. “Well, duh, of course he sent you letters! He sent Galic some, so he must’ve sent you some too, right?” he asked, smiling ignorantly.

---------------------------------------------------------

Aeria froze at the sight of the four gods with mutilated eyes. She could feel bile begin to rise up her throat and the beginnings of a frenzy composed of nerves and fear run through her body. She almost threw up then and there were it not for what she thought the others might think of her if she did so. Really, it wasn’t that she hadn’t seen such disfiguring like it before; it was the combination of the aftershock from her last battle, the strange sick feeling that the environment gave, and the scene that was beginning to break her in.

"Gunnar, you and I should secure the palace," he suggested, to which Gunnar agreed.

Without thinking, she said, “I’ll go with you.” She needed to get out of that room before her will not to show everyone what she had for breakfast broke. She quickly followed them.

---------------------------------------------------------

"Demon," Michael whispered to the shadows. "I know you're there. Can you track this spell to Mephistopheles?"

“I’m insulted,” a voice said from behind the shadows of a nearby marble pillar. “At the strength of the magic left, even someone inexperienced like that frogman, who can’t decide if he wants to be an angel or a demon, that tags along with you - Cha, was it?” the voice added in a slightly appalled tone.

From the shadows, a dark hand protruded through. As the hand continued to press outwards, it started to gain proper color and allowed the rest of the body it was attached to ‘exit’ out from the darkness. The darkness finally melted all the way out, revealing the Astamon with a raised head and a…polite half-smile.

The Astamon then looked at Michael. “So nice to see you again, Saint Michael Ha'Yisrael. How thoughtful of you to know that I’m always around for your beck and call,” he greeted, bowing. If he were mocking the saint, then his voice betrayed none of it. “And hello to you too, Cain,” he told Samael as he stood back up straight, resting his firearm on his shoulder.

He noticed that a few of the other Peacemakers had stayed as well, though he didn’t pay them any attention yet. To those that did see him, he gave them a wide grin, not looking quite like a demon that people feared.

Turning back to Michael, he folded one arm and rested the elbow of the other on it, letting his chin rest on his fist. “Back to your request…well, let’s see now,” he started, eyes suddenly turning jet black for a few seconds.

“Obviously, an extremely high-tier spell was used here. Maybe even more than one,” he said, grinning. “Can’t you feel it, oh great saint? This place is practically flooded with the residue of great demon magic,” he said, spreading his arms out wide and taking a deep breath, as if breathing in fresh air. “And those four on the ground are smothered in it! You should probably watch yourselves around them, ladies,” he told Lucia and Ivy. “You wouldn’t want to get…infected,” he said with a grin.

He turned to Samael and Sha. “You two should be able to feel it as well, though that thing around your neck may be interfering with your ability to sense it,” he said, gazing upon the beads around the Shawjamon’s throat.

His eyes turned back to their normal color, and he turned back to Michael. “A little known fact about magic: the stronger the spell, the harder it is to contain excess magical power that tends to escape, so it leaves behind traces. Those familiar with magic might be able to use it to track down whoever did the spell that was cast upon the land. The more recent the spell was cast, the easier it is to track the caster,” he told him. He grinned. “You were right in calling me,” he added, though then his face took another expression.

“Of course,” he then said. “That doesn’t mean it’s impossible to contain or even spread magical traces deliberately. If this friend of yours sly, and it looks like he’s proving to be, then he might have left a number of false trails to send you all in a goose chase…not that I don’t mind; it’s bound to lead you to some interesting places,” he said, turning his back to the angel. “And there’s no guarantee that those trails will even bring you to him.”

He turned to Michael, folding his arms. “Do you still want my assistance, angel?” He gave a wild smile. “Just name your price, and I’ll show you the trail that has the strongest concentration of magic. I cannot change what I am, after all,” he said, and then he turned to the rest of the Peacemakers that did not know what he meant.

“Ah, and before I get, I should introduce myself. Cresil Vaynard deis Los-Norgaine,” he said, looking quite the polite man as he bowed. “Demon man extraordinaire straight from the entrance of Hell,” he added, grinning as he walked backwards.

 

[Griff4815]

After an unsuccessful reconaissance flight on Pyra's part, she reluctantly turned around and headed back towards the palace. She closed her eyes and sighed, having no delusions that Mephistopheles was long gone.

The Paildramon set foot in the ground near the palace entrance. Upon hearing rapid, soft footsteps in close succession, Pyra turned in their direction to see Shoon running towards her.

“Hi, Pyra!” he said, smiling widely.

"Hi... Shoon..." she begun apprehensively, remembering the Mamemon X well as well as her journey back to Avalon with him. Her long, tedious journey...

Before she could get another word out, the young sphere with limbs began shooting out questions.

“I haven’t seen you for so long! How’re are you? Have you seen Master? Did he send you letters?” he asked, jumping around her.

"I'm... good enough, Shoon," Pyra replied, having to think about it first. "Mast-- You mean Azur? No, I haven't seen him since we left him five months ago."

He then stopped. “Well, duh, of course he sent you letters! He sent Galic some, so he must’ve sent you some too, right?” he asked, smiling ignorantly.

Pyra stared at him and arched her eyebrow. "...Actually, no. I didn't recieve any letters from Azur... I didn't even think he was the letter-writing type," she replied, suddenly wondering why he was writing to Galic.

"Really? But he must have! He sent Galic approximately eight letters; he must have sent you on- oh, oh, oh! Maybe he doesn't know where you live! Or maybe he's waiting for the right time! Or, maybe, maybe, maybe he found someon- errr." Shoon promptly shut up upon Pyra beginning to narrow her eyes into a glare.

"...Anyways, I saw no sign of Mephistopheles. And I'm willing to bet that Guinier and Justin didn't have any better luck. Let's reconvene with them."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Barachiel led Gunnar and Aeria down a torch-lit corridor with his beam swords at the ready for anything that might jump out at them. He focused his senses and looked around for anything out of the ordinary.

The ShineGreymon in the group slowed down to fly beside his female WarGreymon counterpart. "Yo, Aeria, you okay? You look kinda pale. If you want, I could get Waspy up there to slow down," he offered, grinning and gesturing towards Barachiel.

The TigerVespamon glanced over his shoulder, giving Gunnar a look. "Please, quiet... In the chance that Mephistopheles or anyone else is still around, they will surely hear us like this."

"Sure thing, Bug-a-boo!" Gunnar whispered, smirking and giving him an affirmative thumbs up. Barachiel bristled at the name but continued flying silently.

The light dragon turned back to Aeria and whispered. "So, 'Ria... What's your story? D'you have a boyfriend? I'm friends with Tyr and Tiwaz Koenig of the Peacemakers, you know."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kheprius watched in mild surprise as Cresil revealed himself. He noticed that there were a few around who didn't seem surprised at his presence. "...Oh great, another demon who can't dress to save their life. Zero was too many..."

The black insect then turned and looked to Bedivere. "So what's the plan, Boss?" He then turned to Michael. "Or, wait, I forget... Is it Mikey I should be asking? Sorry, Boss," he said, grinning in amusement at the apparent power struggle. "I guess I can't really tell who's in charge; you're both doing such a fantastic job at it..."

 

[TheSequelReturns]

Samael let out a sharp whistle and the Behemoth roared up beside him. He turned to Tia with a smirk. "Hey, pretty lady, you want a ride?" he asked. He turned to Duo, Lucia, and Justin. "How 'bout you guys? I've never done threesies, but we can give it a try. Who wants the handlebars? Duo? It feels like you."

Duo waved his hand. "I appreciate the offer, but I can handle myself." He paused for a moment before assuming his BlackWarGreymon form with a burst of black light. He took a few deep breaths, the transformation was still a bit draining after all, but in this form he was able to take to the skies.

He offered his hand to Lucia. "My lady."

Lucia took his hand with a smile. "Of course."

"You want me to carry you as well Justin? You should b light enough."

The SuperStarmon smirked. "And let you carry me? Never, I'd rather walk the whole way."

"Suit yourself." Duo said before taking to the skies, Lucia in his arms.

Justin sat for a moment before turning to Samael, an embarrassed look on his face as he scratched the back of his head with one of his gloved hands. "So, about that ride..."

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Lucia. Ivy. Attend to the Devas," Michael said. "Justin, Shoon, Pyra, and Gunier: spread out and see if there's any sign of Mephistopheles. The rest of you, with me: we're going to the great hall. Stay alert."

Lucia nodded and went about checking the Devas. Their wounds didn't seem severe, at least not on the surface, but it was obvious that whatever had hit them had left its mark. If only she was able to access her QueenChessmon form again, her Queen Stamp might be able to help them recover...

Justin meanwhile was spreading out with the other three as Duo followed the rest of the Peacemakers into the grand hall. The SuperStarmon eye was twitching behind his shades, but he still attempted to maintain a composed look. Though why he had to wait out here, he had no idea...

The others split up, except for Shoon who just seemed to hang around, so Justin figured he may as well look like he was looking around and headed off to search the room. Though he made an apparent effort, he found no sign of anything that would have indicated the demon's presence.

As the others returned, Justin leaned back against a pillar.

"...Anyways, I saw no sign of Mephistopheles. And I'm willing to bet that Guinier and Justin didn't have any better luck. Let's reconvene with them."

"No sign of the big M, aside from those Devas over there that is." Justin said. "Why can't he just come out and fight us like a man instead of all this running around like a sissy."

-------------------------------------------------

"By God," Michael whispered, he closed his eyes and shook his head. "Call Lucia and Ivy here, their wounds are more critical."

Lucia made her way into the grand hall and nearly dropped her sword at the sight that lay before her. The four Harmonious Compass Gods lay broken and weak, their eye sockets hollow and empty and scorched.

"What in the..." She shook her head, now was not the time worry. They needed help.

She made her way to the closest one, Seiryu, and began to treat his wounds as best she could. But with her limited medical supplies though, things were going to be tough. She didn't even know how to begin treating this, but she could at least lessen their pain...

“Obviously, an extremely high-tier spell was used here. Maybe even more than one,” he said, grinning. “Can’t you feel it, oh great saint? This place is practically flooded with the residue of great demon magic,” he said, spreading his arms out wide and taking a deep breath, as if breathing in fresh air. “And those four on the ground are smothered in it! You should probably watch yourselves around them, ladies,” he told Lucia and Ivy. “You wouldn’t want to get…infected,” he said with a grin.

Lucia flinched for a moment, and drew back her hand. However, she wasn't going to let the words of a demon she barely knew stop her from helping. So, she returned to her work, being a little more careful than usual not to touch her patients.

 

[storymasterb]

Guinier glided around the perimeter in flickers of blue, taking in every detail of the architecture and scanning for enemies. The place was silent, a deathly, oppressive silence. Mephistopheles was gone. Nothing remained but the Devas and the Compass Gods.

"We're alone," she said as she flashed from the air to land beside Bedivere and Michael. "Mephistopheles and any of his allies are long gone."

"Damn." The word came from Bedivere, a single, quiet curse at fate.

"We'll find him." Now Caradoc spoke, moving forwards from his position at the rear of the group.

Before more conversation could be had, Cresil appeared, and the three reacted. Guinier drew back, due to her position she was closer to the Astamon than the others, Bedivere drew his Fragarach, and Caradoc instantly copied the motion as he drew the Feral Sword from its sheath. In a flash, he had ripped forwards and placed the sword to the demon's neck.

Or he would have, if Cresil hadn't been moving and making his speech by that point. The Valkyrimon snarled, turning and drawing his crossbow, aiming a bolt right at Cresil's skull.

"What in the name of the Council is that abomination doing here?" he snapped off at Michael, who had after all summoned the Astamon, seemingly.

"I think we deserve an explanation," Bedivere added, and his voice was low as he laid the Fragarach against his leg, removing it from immediate attention, but keeping it ready should Cresil strike, and already he weighed up angles and pathways, determining the best way to kill the Astamon, though the demon's light-hearted demeanor threw him. This wasn't like the other demons he'd fought, while not exactly feral, they had been cold, cruel creatures, well-versed in words of spite and discord. By comparison the Astamon spoke like an angel... though that may not have been the best term.

Vritra, of course, reacted worst. She exploded forwards as Cresil reached the last part of his speech, his introduction. In a flash of fire, she had him by the neck, and crushed him up against a pillar, while with her other hand she drew one Asura Blade, drawing it back to deal a rapid and fatal blow to the Astamon's neck. Her claws crushed his windpipe, and her burning eyes glared intense, merciless wrath into Cresil's as a low snarl escaped her throat.

"Vritra!" Guinier snapped out, but the BurningGreymon either didn't acknowledge the word or ignored it entirely as she prepared to stab forwards with her blade...

 

[Tundra_Wolfmane]

The ShineGreymon in the group slowed down to fly beside his female WarGreymon counterpart. "Yo, Aeria, you okay? You look kinda pale. If you want, I could get Waspy up there to slow down," he offered, grinning and gesturing towards Barachiel.

Aeria flustered, blushing lightly under her helmet, although still feeling a bit sick with the images still clear in her mind. Despite feeling that way, the last she wanted to do was bring them down. “It’s okay,” she said in a low tone, speeding herself up.

She blushed harder when Barachiel called to keep themselves quiet. Well, that wouldn’t be hard for her.

The light dragon turned back to Aeria and whispered. "So, 'Ria... What's your story? D'you have a boyfriend? I'm friends with Tyr and Tiwaz Koenig of the Peacemakers, you know."

Aeria had to think for a few moments, trying to place who Tyr and Tiwaz were. And then she felt pain stab at her heart. She didn’t really know most of them, but...he was always going on and on about them, saying that they were also of the Greymon kind and that they brought glory and honor to all Greymon’s everywhere. She didn’t know much more other than that since she was never as interested in them.

“It’s…a long story. You…wouldn’t want to hear it,” she decided to say lowly, regarding his first question with a hesitant look away. As for his second question…well, all she could do was bite her lip.

-------------------------------------------------------

Vritra, of course, reacted worst. She exploded forwards as Cresil reached the last part of his speech, his introduction. In a flash of fire, she had him by the neck, and crushed him up against a pillar, while with her other hand she drew one Asura Blade, drawing it back to deal a rapid and fatal blow to the Astamon's neck. Her claws crushed his windpipe, and her burning eyes glared intense, merciless wrath into Cresil's as a low snarl escaped her throat.

Despite the tight gripping on his neck, Cresil gave a wide grin, followed by a chuckle.

“Well, well, well, what a familiar sight this is,” the Astamon said with a smile, glancing meaningfully to Michael. His voice was clear, not showing any signs of his throat being crushed. “I apologize for the trickery, but let’s say that I wasn’t quite so keen to repeating this experience,” he said as his form suddenly turned dark, turning into darkness that liquefied under Vritra’s grasp, drooping onto the ground in a puddle of black goop.

“Demon magic. A shadow puppet. Completely useless in a battle, little physical strength and melts after impact, not to mention it takes quite a bit of energy and has a rather short lifespan, but great for party tricks and angry dragons. So convenient, don’t you think?” his loud voice suddenly resounded through the room, the specific position being hidden by the echoing of his voice.

"Unfortunately, it would take too much wasted time and energy to create another puppet to speak to face to face with, so I suggest that you call off the berserker before we make any deals, saint. Of course, you could always just restrain and force me to do your wills with your own holy magic, but that wouldn’t be very angelic or saintly,” he told Michael, his voice bouncing from place to place.

And then his voice came from behind Kheprius. “And mind you,” the voice called before spinning around him, before Cresil appeared, walking from the shadows. “My attire is quite tasteful, though I guess someone named after ladies pants wouldn’t know that, eh, mister Capris?”

Passing the GrandisKuwagamon with another glance, he then faced Michael. "I do hope that we won't get another repeat of the moment ago, or your only ticket to viably track the opponent you want to find so much might just get burned into ashes," he said, glancing at Vritra's volatile form.