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Digimon Idylls: Fracture (PG-13)


No. 1 Grovyle Fan
Coralia Ceto (Scorpiomon)
A Camelot Alleyway

One minute, she had been following the group to what she thought would be a sanctuary for the curious blue knight known as Averitt. The next minute, the angels had suddenly began attacking them with every ounce of their strength, it seemed. She thought that they were going to help Averitt!

As soon as the fighting started, Coralia found herself instinctively staying behind Katarina. The sword lady seemed like she had seen a great many fights in her time, so Cora felt safest around her. Though, she also stuck close to the Knightmon and the RaijiLudomon, who both seemed like they could deflect the shower of arrows with ease.

Cora didn't particularly like fighting. She considered herself a peace-loving Digimon. But as the attacks tearing up the alleyway around them intensified, her survival instincts began to kick in.

As an Angemon and D'arcmon swooped in behind them, she inhaled deeply and blew out a storm of sand that blasted the two Digimon back. The grains that showered them had special properties that caused the angels' minds to grow heavy and for them to fall asleep after a few seconds.

"Why is today so crazy?!" Cora lamented. "I thought these angels were supposed to be helping us!"

Right as Cora turned around to check on Katarina, she noticed something weird. The whole sky seemed to erupt in an instantaneous flash of green. In that moment, she caught sight of a black figure draped in a rippling cape. Her eyes grew wide with realization.

Before she could even react, she felt as though the ground had given way beneath her. Her body suddenly felt like it was falling and her vision became overwhelmed with whiteness and the rush of digitized numbers.


Coralia Ceto (Scorpiomon)
The Forests of Logres

"Gwagh!" Cora thudded into the dirt, landing on her shelled back with her dorsal blades digging deep into the ground. She wiggled her bladed flippers uselessly as she tried to dislodge herself from the ground.

From her upside down view, she saw the rest of the hodgepodge of a group that she ended up with. More noticeably, she saw an upside down Alphamon standing before them.

Cora gasped. "That's Galahad. That's Sir Galahad. He's standing right in front of us!" she thought to herself with stunned realization. "Ack! I can't let him see me like this!"

Cora wiggled helplessly in and attempt to pull her blades from the ground and roll over. When that didn't work, she pulled her tail up towards her underbelly and swung it in tandem with her mandables in an attempt to build up enough momentum to somersault herself back onto her belly.

"And - one - and - two - and - hup!" Cora said with each wrest. She managed to get enough forward momentum to tear her blades from the forest floor and roll forwards, flopping unceremoniously back onto her belly. "Oof."

As Cora pulled herself back up and onto her legs, she looked over at Galahad. A flash of concern crept inside of her when she heard Galahad say that Averitt was sick. She did think that he looked pretty out of sorts when she first saw him... Maybe that explained his dark grey and blue colour too.

Then she watched as Galahad turned his attention to a SaviorHackmon who was standing nearby. "...Who's Dakkon?" she murmured to the Phantomon beside him. She blinked. "For that matter... who are you?"


God of Monsters
Dakkon Redblade
Camelot Street

Things had taken a sudden, violent, and bizarre turn. Despite Averitt's insistence, Dakkon truly felt their best option was to bring the newly-dubbed "Chaos"-Gallantmon to the attention of the Royal Knights. There were rules and protocols to follow. Something like what Averitt had become was unprecedented -- at least to Dakkon's admittedly-limited knowledge. But even so he knew this was something new -- or unfathomably ancient -- and dangerous.

Averitt's fear of the Royal Knights' involvement only strengthened that resolve, but Dakkon had been outvoted, and he wasn't about to ignite the powder keg that was their collective volatile personalities.

So the angel had gathered her superior from the church and brought him to Averitt.

And everything had gone, as Reynard so often put it, "tits up."

The angel, Sarathiel, turned...blank -- it was the only way he could describe it. The Cyberdramon scuffled with him, and Dakkon noted the way he moved - a strange, stiff motion. Almost jerkily, like he was being physically manipulated from behind, or above…

Or within, Dakkon thought suddenly. There was an odd, sinking feeling in his gut,

"They're coming," Yamato's Datamon vassal cried out.

A hundred different thoughts flew through Dakkon's head, a dozen theories on what was happening, all conjured in the blink of an eye, all based on nothing more than conjecture, and each more terrifying than the last.

Then a hundred and more different angels converged on them, moving with that same otherworldly lurch, all at the same time, all at once, mirroring each other precisely. Dakkon fought through them as best he could. He had the presence of mind to fend them off, but even in all of that he knew they were doomed unless others intervened. They'd be overwhelmed momentarily. It didn't matter how strong they were, there were simply too many..

It was chaos and violence and an absolute silence.

And then there wasn't. There was a sound, and a flash of green, and a rush of wind and binary code.

Then Dakkon felt his feet touch down softly on the grass and dirt beneath his feet. When his eyes regained focus and his head stopped throbbing with vertigo, he could see Camelot off in the distance. A shiver ran down his spine as realization caught up with him. The flash of green, the sudden shift in location.

"My Lord Galahad," he said, turning around and bowing to the Royal Knight. The great Alphamon regarded him warmly and returned his bow with a nod before continuing to speak with the others about the state of Averitt.

"Dakkon, it warms my heart to see you. However did you come to be mixed up in this?"

"It's a long story," Dakkon muttered, rising to his feet. "We stumbled upon this dark knight while searching the city for a place to watch the procession."

"Not a very long story," Reynard muttered. He strode forward and tipped an imaginary hat towards the Royal Knight. "Reynard Pentagast, at your service. Metaphorically, of course."

"Jack of Blades," Galahad acknowledged a curious rise in his voice.

"You've heard of me!? Dakkon!" Reynard practically hopped back and forth on his heels. "He's heard of me! Uh…" he stammered for a second. "I mean…allegedly Jack of Blades."

"That was one of the things we were able to prove," Dakkon hissed to the former-bandit lord.

"Oh. Really?" Reynard calmed and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Sorry, it's pretty difficult to keep track of all that. I don't know how you goody two-shoes keep your noses so clean. It's exhausting."

There was an almost-amused hum from the Alphamon before he turned back to the group, studying them again with that implaccable gaze. "A Norseman," he turned to Ragnar with the barest hint of a nod. The wolf man raised an eyebrow at the knight's formal-yet-easy-going acknowledgement, but did not unclench his fists or drop his guard.

"Problem?" he asked curtly.

"Not at all," Galahad said. He turned then to the others, stopping on the Cerberumon. "You're one of Ser Agravaine's wards." It wasn't a question.

"I'm surprised you'd know," Sorin said with a sharp but respectful grumble.

"You have that look about you," Galahad said absently. He acknowledged the rest in turn, returning Gideon's salute, and sharing a short prayer of faith with Traft.

Dakkon did his best to stand in front of Reynard and hide his mocking eye-rolls. It would do them no good to alienate the Royal Knights.

"My Lord," he said with another bow, and Reynard rolled his eyes dramatically. "You said you've seen this sort of…infection before. How did you mean? Is this something we should bring to the attention of the King?"


Knight of RPGs

The angels had all frozen in the steets and the air, heads turning in each and every direction as though seeking something lost. Panicked guards stared warily at them as the Imperialdramon Paladin Mode descended, the Royal Knights scattered across the city to try and contain the rampage.

"Report, my knights," Artorigus spoke, his voice carried to each of them by the link between his blade and the shards he had broken from it for them.

"All of the angels have stopped in the market district," Agravaine spoke curtly.

"The same around the keep," his brother Gwalchmai said, his tone much more concerned. "Have we identified what caused the reaction?"

"Not as of yet," Lucan explained as he swooped to his king's side. "I am identifying their target position as we speak." In the confusion the angels had seemed to all fly at once.

"They are like hounds who have lost the scent," Cei mused across the link. "Whatever they were hunting, it disappeared, and suddenly at that."

Artorigus nodded, having arrived at the same conclusion. Other reports came in, all the same. The angels had come to a sudden halt and stopped their mad hunt. But one voice remained absent, the one who had said something felt amiss. Where was Galahad? Was this his doing in some fashion?

The king frowned, lifted his sword. Caledfwlch, the Worldsword upon whose edge all Idyll rested, so it was sung by the bards. Perhaps they were closer to truth than their boast on its behalf realised, he had often thought.

"Omni Sword."

The world rippled. To the eyes of most there would be no perceptible change, but to Artorigus, a pattern of 0s and 1s flowed like a wave through air, buildings, Digimon, everything. He exerted his will through his sword's power, guiding it to his chosen targets, and the angels bent to his summons as the presence that had kept them free of his influence relinquished its hold. They flew skyward and gathered all about the white-clad king, the guards and citizens looking up in confusion and relief as their winged ranks assembled in perfect formation. Their movements were natural once more, no longer cold and robotic, their wills their own.

"Uriel." The Seraphimon knelt upon the sky before Artorigus, fellow archangels at the forefront of the great host, the Royal Knights flying to join him as their mirror at his back. "I would have your actions explained. What provoked the wrath of the heavens?"


Yamato Takeshi (Cyberdramon)
The Forests of Logres

A hero stood before them in the flesh, talking to them with a lightness that Yamato did not expect from a Royal Knight. But when he looked at Galahad, he felt as though that absent-minded politeness were a facade. The way the Alphamon looked at Averitt and at Shamsiel said there was more to this.

And he had spirited them away, from the capital and from the king.

"If Ser Galahad meant to bring this to the King's attention," he said before Galahad could answer Dakkon's questions, "we would still be in Camelot, I suspect."

Galahad inclined his head slightly, turning his eyes on the Cyberdramon for a moment before regarding Dakkon. "The king will learn as soon as the angels are quelled, which, since what I suspect to be the source of their outburst has been removed from their presence, will be soon." He spent a moment in silent consideration. How much do you know, Yamato wondered. Are you deciding how much you can afford to tell us?

"But why did the angels act like that?" Shamsiel asked.

Again the Royal Knight's eyes turned analytical as they looked at the Meicrackmon. "You felt no compulsion to join your fellows and attack Averitt?" the Alphamon asked.

Shamsiel shook her head in puzzlement. "No, nothing like that." Yamato remembered Sarathiel stiffening, moving as though his limbs were not his own.

Galahad smiled curiously. "The angels acted as they did because an anomaly was detected and judged harmful. To their eyes, Averitt's affliction was a cancer in the world's fabric, to be excised with all haste. The rest of you were, I suspect, included in that definition due to the risk that your time in his presence had contaminated you."

Tachibana gulped and stumbled away from Averitt. "C-contaminated? Contaminated with what?"

"A plague that distorts the very substance of data," Galahad explained. "You notice how his form has been altered from that of the Gallantmon he ought to be?" He gestured to Averitt, in particular the darker and colder hues compared to, say, Ser Gwalchmai. Again he showed no sign of the difficulty they had had in looking at the "Chaos"Gallantmon.

"Is that why we must struggle to look at him?" Shamsiel questioned meekly, her eyes straining to remain on Averitt.

"His warped form is antithetical to the world's order and so your senses rebel against his presence," the Alphamon said offhandedly. "Were you to remain around him, you ought to grow accustomed and the effects would lessen." He looked back at Dakkon, the beginnings of something on his lips before Tachibana spoke up.

"If he is such a risk, why have you not struck him down?! You are a Royal Knight!"

Shamsiel bristled and whirled to face the Datamon. "Exactly! Ser Galahad is no executioner, he is a hero, and heroes do not murder suffering victims of injustice!" Yamato smiled at her righteous cry, a sentiment he echoed despite his misgivings about Galahad's intentions.

"Were he an ordinary victim of the plague, I would agree with the angels' assessment, but in his current state it is as though the manner in which he was infected confines it within his body," the Alphamon explained, looking at the small machine Digimon. "To so artfully contaminate his body suggests rare skill, which in turn raises the questions of who and why." A soft, regretful sigh passed his lips. "During the war with Olympus, my brothers and I saw this plague unleashed in an uncontrolled fashion. Villages were ravaged by its touch, whole swathes of Digimon twisted into abominations, and all we could grant them was a merciful end with the aid of the angels. At the time we believed it some mad gambit of the Olympians, but in light of Averitt's state and other curious happenings of late, I fear that that assumption was mistaken."

"The angels... was that why they joined the King?" Shamsiel asked, wonder in her tone at being honored with such an account.

Galahad did not answer that question either way, merely continuing his tale. "I will not cut Averitt down if he poses no threat, and at present I believe he does not. Not one of you shows signs of affliction, not even the merest hint of taint, whereas when I encountered the plague before it spread like wildfire. So then my attention turns to the question of who possesses the knowledge of the plague, the skill to sew it into a living Digimon's flesh, and the resources to have him hunted right into Camelot, according to your account." A soft, regretful sigh passed his lips, his eyes clouding as he pondered then looked at Dakkon.

"I regret to burden your shoulders further, Dakkon, for I know what I have said likely has your head in a turmoil," the Alphamon said softly. "But I must ask you to aid me."

"Aid you?" Yamato queried, amazement breaking his cool facade. "What assistance could we offer a Royal Knight?" Beside him Shamsiel's eyes widened like saucers.

Galahad's casual demeanour had evaporated, replaced by the utmost seriousness. "All of you are in danger, I fear. Not simply from the angels, who may still target you in fear that you are infected. But you have witnessed Averitt, heard his own account of what befell him, and thus you are a liability to those responsible for his condition. It is fortunate that I found you before the angels could strike you down or this unknown party could strike again."

"I don't understand," Shamsiel said, eyes still wide. "What is it that you're suggesting, Ser Galahad? If you fear for our safety, why did you not take us to the King and let us rest under the protection of the guard, if not yourself and your brothers in arms?"

Galahad shook his head with a deep and regretful sigh. "Because I do not trust my brothers." A stunned silence followed his words.


Faithful Crusader
Yuel Nyctus (Phantomon)
The Forests of Logres

Yuel was practically beaming.

He had known that today was going to bring some strange tidings for a while now, but he had never expected this. A Royal Knight! Angels on the attack! Strange mutations in code! It was delightful. So many oddities and unlikely meetings happening all around was almost too fantastic to believe.

"...Who's Dakkon?" a Scorpiomon murmured beside him. She blinked. "For that matter... who are you?"

Oh? Was he no longer invisible? In all the excitement, he must have forgotten to maintain his secrecy.

Yuel chuckled to himself and gave a small, friendly bow. "Hello dearie. You are in the illustrious presence of Yuel Nyctus, emissary of the powers that slip between the veil. Should you find yourself wanting, it is my eternal raison d'etre to offer you a means to your desired ends."

"You aren't going to try and sell me a watch are you?" Tsukiko said with a roll of her eyes.

Yuel turned eagerly towards the Airdramon. "That depends entirely on if you want such a thing or not. I have no intention of offering you a thing that you don't already desire." The Phantomon leaned in just a bit. "Though if you do want a timepiece, you may want to find at least one arm first. Would you like an arm? I may have something for that."

Tsukiko blinked. "...I can't tell if you're joking or not."

"I do not jest." Yuel gave a dismissive wave, "It's bad for business."

"I don't suppose you could send a message foe me?" Colossus said as he trundled over. The Guardromon scratched the back of his head. "Can't say I have any idea what's going on..." he trailed off as he gave a long glance towards Galahad, as if to make sure he wasn't imagining the Royal Knight, "but I've got to at least let my employees that I'm... uh... indisposed."

The Phantomon chuckled. "But of course, my good robot. Sending a packet of data through the ether is but a simple task, ill-fitting of one as skilled as I, and therefore little more than a wave the hand."

"...was that a yes?" Colossus said.

Yuel sighed. "It appears I may have mistaken your eagerness for understanding. Very well. Normally I would craft a legally binding contract for such a matter, though in your case a sample might illuminate you to my usefulness. Come now, begin your utterances of import and I shall see them on their way."

Colossus blinked. He was silent for a moment before turning towards Tsukiko. "Did you understand any of that miss?"

"I think he agreed to send your message." Tsukiko said. "Probably."

"Oh, well he should have just said so." The Guardromon turned back towards Yuel. "Sorry about that. All the fancy words make it hard to follow along for a common man like myself."

"No matter." Yuel flicked his wrist and a scroll and quill slid out of his sleeve. The scroll unfurled in the air and the quill floated at the ready, its tip glistening with fresh ink. Colossus gave him a simple message to let his workers know he would be away and Yuel's quill copied it down. When he was done, the scroll rolled up.

"Won't that smudge the ink if you roll it up so fast?" Colossus asked.

"As if one blessed with such foresight as mine would make such a simple mistake." Yuel said. "Think nothing of it. I assure you your message will arrive intact."

"In that case, I'd like it to be delivered to Rusty Albright at Colossal Shipping. Its located just sou-"

The scroll blinked away in a swirl of purple mist and vanished. "Already done." Yuel said.

"Wowzers." Colossus scratched his chin. "Would you be interested in working in the shipping business?"

"Me? A deliverer of parcels?" Yuel snorted. "Perish the very notion." The Phantomon gave a glance over Cora, Colo, and Tsukiko each in turn. "Well, are you not impressed? Do you not feel desires welling up in the depths of your hearts that need fullfilling? What you want is but a contact away." Yuel stood ready to hear any requests, but his gaze was drawn back towards the crowd gathering near Galahad. Or rather, towards the strange "ChaosGallantmon" who tugged so strongly at his curiosity.


God of Monsters
Ser Galahad's words shook Gideon to his core.

"My...my lord," Dakkon stammered. "What do you mean you don't trust the others?" He could scarcely seem to get the words past his lips.

Gideon couldn't even manage that much. All his life, his training, his loyalty…

"Of late, all manner of strange things have happened across our realm, Dakkon," Galahad said, casting a gaze across the group. "Mutated flora the likes of which I have not seen since the outbreak we quelled during the war. Movements of material and supplies supposedly sanctioned but for no discernible purpose. Guards simply disappearing from their posts without trace after being dispatched on unusual assignments. Any of them individually would be of some concern, but together they paint me an alarming picture when combined with Averitt here. All of this unusual activity comes with authority that can only belong to a fellow Royal Knight, and we and the angels are the only living witnesses to the outbreak. The only souls who should know that the infection ever existed."

"You're saying this was done by a Royal Knight?" Sorin nodded over to Averitt. "That those dogs we fought earlier were sent by a Royal Knight?"

Caius stepped forward from the group, one hand respectfully crossed across his chest. "Pardon my inquiry, master Knight, but what would one of your number have to gain from meddling in such troubling affairs?"

They wouldn't, Gideon wanted to say, but couldn't find the words. They couldn't do such a thing.

"For that matter," Reynard cut in. "How can we be certain that you are not the offending Royal Knight?" Gideon found himself gobsmacked.

"You would dare!?" Dakkon wheeled around with uncharacteristic ferocity, snarling the words that Gideon himself wanted to roar.

"It would be foolish not to ask," Reynard waved off his bluster. "Of all the scenarios, mine is the more likely."

"He's got a point," Ragnar muttered thoughtfully. He fixed Galahad with a scrutinizing glare. "Best way to make sure your betrayal goes unnoticed would be to remove us from the situation."

Gideon's anger bristled and brought him clarity again. Of course the Norseman would accuse a Royal Knight of that -- anything to undermine them, to weaken the Realm.

"Absolutely true," Galahad said. "But then, why have I stood here explaining matters to you rather than simply kill you all?"

Yes. That's right! Why would Ser Galahad do something to help them if he only wanted them out of the equation?

"A villain enjoys their monologues, I have found," Yamato deadpanned with a chuckle.

"I understand that my timing could well seem suspicious," the Alphamon continued. "And I don't fault you for thinking critically, just as I appreciate your loyalty, Dakkon."

"But you're on our side... right?" Shamsiel ventured hesitantly, still digesting the implications of the conversation. "Like you say, you could have killed the lot of us. Or even just let my brethren finish us."

"Unless that too was a ruse to take us off the scent," Tachibana muttered.

"Such paranoid minds you have," Galahad said, strangely approvingly. "But given what you've learned, that's not surprising. Only a Royal Knight would have the knowledge and the resources to do this undetected. And as to what one of my brothers would have to gain? The infection bestowed great power on those who could weather its negative effects, enough to test even us. Perhaps they are benign but misguided, perhaps they seek to use it against the king, perhaps they have some strange purpose I cannot fathom. But they're playing with a fire the likes of which few can imagine. One slip, one mistake, and all Albion could be consumed." He fixed his gaze on Shamsiel. "I am certainly on your side if you stand against that calamity, as I suspect you do."

"Or you've lost control of your experiment," Ragnar suggested. "Things have gotten out of hand and you're hoping that by bringing us into your confidence you'll gain agents that can help get things back on track without exposing your own involvement."

"You would dare accuse a Royal Knight of such treachery?!" Gideon snarled, finally finding his voice. "You uncivilized--"

"I think the Royal Knight is the one accusing," Ragnar snapped. "I'm just the one making sure we don't take things on blind faith."

"How dare you speak of faith you Norse, pagan, mongrel, bas--"

"Enough," Ser Galahad's voice was quiet, but unyielding, and it cut through Gideon's tirade like a cannon blast. His accusations died on his lips and his jaw snapped shut. He bowed his head in shame. "There are greater truths to the world than you can possibly imagine, Gideon," the Royal Knight said, with a kind of strange melancholy. "And we share more with the Norsemen than there are differences."

Gideon fought the urge to spit, in deference to the Royal Knight's status and wisdom. He was so very different from Ser Gwalchmai, who radiated like a blazing hearth in everything he did. Galahad was softer, but there was a strange, almost terrifying…edge to his presence.

"A nice sentiment," Ragnar said. "But you haven't explained why you spared us and why we should trust you.