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Digimon: Unholy Crusade


God of Monsters
Eons ago. And Eons into the future. And right now...

It fell into the spaces between times and universes - a beacon, the shimmering light of thought and sentience. It had seen so much, so many things - all things, even - on its fall; things across the vastness of the Multiverse - but it had never seen itself. Across all things, it never was. How, then, had it come to be? Had Father not shaped it of Himself and sent it through the eternities? It remembered that.

Yes. Father had shaped it, and had given it a task.

Change. Conquer. Consume.

So it would. Find a world, a place, a time. It fell into that time and place like a shooting star. Brilliant and burning - for but an instant. Then it buried itself in the deepest, darkest, oldest corners of that world; it leaked its essence into the world - and watched and waited through war and upheaval and peace. Until untold centuries later a curious sort of creature came upon it, and touched it. And it whispered.

And then it felt things moving. All the things it had seen during its fall so long ago - or had it not yet happened? - began to twist and blur and fade away. And it remembered: Father had given it a task: change, conquer, consume.

Change came first.

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Digimon: Unholy Crusade

Act 1: Tears for Peace

The Savage Lands
One Month Ago

"You would stand idly by while our world falls to ruin?!" demanded the hulking Sleipmon. Sir Bors was the fury of battle, even in peacetime. His was the rage of the Royal Knights.

"Calm yourself, Sir Bors," said Sir Tristan the Gallantmon. "We did not come here to incite conflict. We are here because we hope Thor will join us in our endeavor. We did not come here to lash out at the heir to the White Sword."

Thor's fingers twitched at the mention of the blade, and he fought the urge to drop his gaze in shame. How many months had he remained in the wastes of the Savage Lands, struggling to come to grips with the White Sword's power?

"You are asking me to take that sword, which I have only just proven myself worthy of lifting, and using it to end the lives of innocent Digimon and their human partners?" Thor asked. "I cannot do this, and neither can you."

"Who are you to tell us what we can and cannot do?" demanded Sir Bedivere, the Examon. "Who are any of you to say what we can and cannot do? We are the Royal Knights. For centuries, our order has defended this world with our own blood, sweat, and tears."

"I know full well the history of the Royal Knights, Sir Bedivere," Thor snapped. "Or do you forget that it was my father that forged your order? He brought you together to defend those who could not defend themselves. He brought you together to protect the peace and right wrongs."

"Power is justice and right," said Sir Gawain the Duftmon. "And our strength is equaled by no other group in the entire Digital World. Not even you gods and eternals, with all your petty squabbles."

"Is this your reasoning, Sir Galahad?" Thor demanded of the silent Alphamon. "This is why you're turning the order from your centuries-long task? Because of some idiotic self-righteous notion?"

A sword was pressed to Thor's throat in the blink of an eye. On his right, the deadly Omnimon, Sir Lancelot, steadied the blade of the Transcendent Sword with terrifying certainty. Thor turned his gaze upon the white knight and held his glare. It took all his focus and willpower to lock eyes with Lancelot and not look away from the knight's intensity.

"A fine way you have of recruiting allies, Galahad," Thor hissed. "Tell me, do all other Digimon cower before such a display of brutality? Is this how you thicken your ranks?"

"Not at all," said Sir Guinier the UlforceVeedramon, waving her hands offhandedly. "We don't have this much patience with the others."

"Were you not the son of Odin, my sword would not have stopped at this side of your throat," Lancelot said. "Were you anyone else, I would not have allowed you to speak to the Royal Knights in such a manner."

"Sir Tristan, surely you, of all knights, cannot support this undertaking," Thor said, Lancelot's blade still at his throat. The Gallantmon remained silent for a moment. "This is madness."

"Most times I would agree, Odinson," said Tristan. "But I see the path our world is taking, and I fear where it ends. The humans will bring naught but ruin if they are left to run rampant. This is always the case."

"Then go before the Council," Thor pleaded. "I'll speak for you! I'll use my father's influence. My brothers and I - we can ask that rules be put in place...laws that the Tamers must follow...Galahad, please."

"Do you think us idiots!?" Sir Bors demanded. "Sir Galahad has already gone before them, already asked for the Tamers to be curtailed, for laws and regulations, but they would not hear his voice. They have left us with no other option."

"Enough," said Galahad, breaking his silence. "There is no more to be said. Lancelot, stand down." The Omnimon withdrew his blade from Thor's neck. "Your father was a hero, the first true savior. He allowed the rest of the Digital World to look on him as a leader because it allowed him to inspire. But among us...among friends and comrades; brothers of the sword...he wanted to be looked on as mortal, so that we might point out his flaws and his imperfections. It is a lesson we Royal Knights have strived to live by."

"Then how do you--?"

"The humans do not have this trait," Galahad explained. "They are supreme in their arrogance. They will break our world with their ignorance. They have no humility! I would see them stopped before this can happen. I will not allow your father's vision to die! Not while breath remains in me."

"Humility," Thor said. "My father strived to teach me humility; always pushing me, always testing me." Thor focused on the White Sword, just beyond his senses, waiting patiently between worlds, between heartbeats. "The sword was the final test. All his power, all his strength, was passed to me upon his death. With the notion that I must be worthy to wield the sword. So then, Galahad," Thor called the sword down. It split the heavens like silent lightning and embedded in the earth beside him. He gestured to it. "Lift this sword."

"I do not need to prove myself to anyone, least of all to the ignorant and spoiled son of Odin," Galahad declared.

"What's the problem?" Sir Bors the Sleipmon demanded. "Just lift the damn thing." He strode forward, grasped the sword with one hand and pulled. But the sword refused to move. Bors wrapped both hands around the sword and wrenched upward, but the sword still refused to budge. "What is the meaning of this witchcraft!?"

"Not witchcraft," Thor said. "My father placed an enchantment on the blade. Only those who are deemed worthy may lift it. So I ask you again, Galahad, will you lift this sword?"

Galahad regarded Thor in silence; his gaze was unwavering, filled with ancient power and wisdom. But then he glanced off and turned away.

"Come, my knights," he said. "There is no more reason for us to remain here. The Odinson has spoken his peace, and we will leave it at that."

"You'll allow him to speak to us thusly?" Gawain demanded.

"He is the son of Odin," said Galahad. "I will allow it this once. Know this, Thor; it is because of your father that we leave you in peace now. There are not many to whom we would extend the same courtesy. However, should you become involved in the coming conflict--should you stand against us--we will treat you no differently than any other. Your parentage will mean nothing."

The Royal Knights turned and flew into the air, and Thor was left with a sickening dread in the pit of his stomach. Something dark was on the horizon. The time would come when all the world would tremble...


Paradise Eden
Realm of the Holy Host
One Week Ago

It was called many things by the inhabitants of Saga: Eden, Paradise, Heaven, the Celestial Sphere. It was a realm beyond the influence of Saga's gods and politics, a realm of laws and faith and order. It was a realm of sprawling sandstone spires, a canvas of whites, golds, and reds built into the land. There was nothing but the sandstone, an entire countryside of earthy colors covering the entire landscape. The only natural backdrop was at the very center of the realm, in the massive, multi-tiered garden of the central palace. It was Paradise, and above that central palace floated the Celestial Sphere itself.

Ethereal and glowing, the Celestial Sphere was built upon the most advanced coding found anywhere on Saga. It was a compressed Dyson Sphere, creating a condensed sense of space and time. It allowed the highest order of angels to bear witness to the flow of time uninterrupted by time and age from their metaphysical existence. The rest of the Holy Host served on Saga's physical plane, up keeping the realm and serving the will of God to their fullest ability. It was a realm of devotion and tranquility, more so than any other on Saga.

That tranquility was interrupted by a low, guttural roar. A black shape streaked through Eden, a squeal of tires left a set of black skid-marks over the white stone paths, sending the inhabitants of the realm running for cover. The shape bounded up stairs, over clear ponds, and through courtyards. It cut through libraries as old as the Digital World, and knocked over scrolls and texts that held secrets and truths as old as time.

"Move!" its rider, dressed all in black, shouted. But he did little else to avoid those in his way. He had an appointment to keep, after all. It'd been a long time since the angels called him to Eden. It didn't mean he'd stayed ignorant of what was going on. Everyone and their mother knew about the Royal Knights and their crusade. And if the Three were calling him...well, that meant good things were coming his way.

He skidded to a stop before the final archway that led to the central palace, directly beneath the Celestial Sphere. A beam of light flowed from the palace's core directly to the heart of the Sphere. That was where Samael's salvation lay.

Dismounting his motorcycle, he muttered a quick "stay here," to which the bike growled low in response. "Yeah, well no one likes you either!" Samael shot back. He strode into the castle, ignoring the gasps and sideways glares of lower angels and devoted. He emerged into the center courtyard, shielding his eyes from the light cast by the heavenly beam until they adjusted.

He'd been living in the dark for so long.

"Samael," spoke a voice. It was kind and gentle, full of compassion. But it was also powerful, and hardened. "You have been busy." It was Uriel the Ophanimon.

"By our account have committed numerous crimes that violate the laws of the lands and realms you have traversed," said the Seraphimon. Raphael. Even with his face completely hidden behind the shining mask, Samael could feel his smug sense of self-righteous condemnation. "What are your excuses this time?"

"You know full well what I am and what I do," Samael retorted with a shrug. He pointed over his shoulder. "And so does everyone else out there. In fact, I make sure to tell them. I don't hide what I am."

"Because you have no shame," Raphael all but bristled.

Still got it, Samael smirked to himself. His ability to ruffle their lofty feathers was one of his great joys.

"Shame never did nothing for nobody," Samael said. He cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms over his head. "What I've got is a...belief in honesty and openness. I make sure that everyone that's gonna throw a punch at yours truly knows exactly what kind of hell they're walking into. And if they still choose to throw that punch? Well, that's on them." He gave the Three a narrow glare. "Free will and all, right?"

"You cannot be forgiven if you don't show humility, Samael," said Gabriel. The big, fluffy, pink rabbit thing dared to talk down to him. All of them. They dared to talk of humility when surrounded by their opulence.

"Fair enough," Samael swallowed his anger down. "But is that really why we're here? It's been, what, five years since you last called me here? 'Can only think of one thing that might change that."

"The Royal Knights," said a new voice from above. Samael grimaced, he'd recognize that voice anywhere. It was filled with the same kind of self-important righteousness as the Three, but held a fire and liveliness that they sorely lacked.

Michael. The Hand of God.

"'Sup, helmet-head?" Samael deadpanned. The MagnaAngemon in question fluttered down beside them and gave him the most imperceptible of nods.

"Lord Michael," acknowledged Uriel. The other two followed in kind, eliciting a deep bow from the archangel.

"It's quite a mess," Raphael said, his voice harsh. "Royal Knights. For years, each iteration of their fellowship worked alongside us and the Council to maintain order. Peace. Not ten years into his command, and Galahad is ready to throw it all away."

"He's afraid," Michael said. "The actions of the humans are beyond the purview of the Royal Knights' charter. They don't know how to respond to them; they don't know how to approach them. They fear the change that comes."

"They should trust us," Raphael said icily. "We summon the humans to Saga. We assign them partners. It is our directive, as commanded by God Himself."

"You guys tell them that?" Samael asked with a yawn. He hated this. Hated all the posturing and preening. Four of the highest angels in creation peacocking to one another, trying to see which of them felt strongest about this upset.

They answered with dour glares.

"Psh. Fine. Whatever. See what that gets you. Frown lines. That's it," Samael rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

"You?" Gabriel asked. There was genuine bewilderment in his voice.

"Yes. Me," Samael snarled. It was always this way. They were so caught up in their pretense that even the fact that they'd called him was now forgotten. "You. Called. Me. Here."

"Of course we did, Samael," Uriel said. God, could she ever not sound condescending?!

"The Council has sent a call out for warriors to meet them at the temple at Axis Mundi," Gabriel explained. "We have convened with them at length and have decided to send you both to join their assembly."

"What?" was Michael's aghast reply.

"For real, dudes?" Samael added, somewhat less refined. "Since when were you and the Council all buddy-buddy?"

"These are difficult times, Samael," Uriel chimed in all sing-song. "We have always maintained that cooperation with the Council and the Pantheons is in the best interests of the Host. Our methods and ideologies may differ, but our goals are the same."

"Whatever you say," Samael said, rolling his eyes.

"The Council's call is a week from now," said Raphael. "See to it that you're both there." Then the Three stepped back into the pillar of light beaming down from the Celestial Sphere, and were pulled back into the sky.

"See ya there, wing-head," Samael muttered. Michael didn't reply; he just stared up at the Sphere in silence. "Ugh. This is gonna be torture."

Samael strode from the courtyard, muttering old curses under his breath that Michael couldn't quite make out. He waited to hear the Behemoth motorcycle start up and roar away before letting out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding.

It was unprecedented, calling him and Samael at once to cooperate with a Council initiative. The two factions rarely worked together, and never so closely. It meant the Three were truly worried about the Royal Knights.

"Lord Michael?" asked a voice. A D'Arcmon stepped forward and bowed low. "Are you...can I...is there anything...?"

"Just lost in thought," Michael muttered. He glanced up towards the Celestial Sphere. It had been three years since he'd returned to Heaven...since he'd been allowed to return. Not by any official decree, but because there was so much work to do across Saga. He'd spent eons serving as a warrior and a general. But the years spent doing simple good, protecting people had been more rewarding than anything else.

"Was that really Samael?" the D'Arcmon asked. "The demon? Is he really allowed here?"

"Samael goes where he wants, or where he's asked to," Michael answered. It had been a long time since he'd seen the fallen angel; he hadn't changed in thirty years. Every dark rumor that made its way to Michael only confirmed that fact. He was the dark side of the Sphere, the complete opposite from its usual authority figures.

The Three were often compared to the seasons: Raphael was like a winter day; bright, brilliant, and blinding, but horribly cold. Gabriel was autumn: cool, brisk, and prone to storms. Uriel was spring: warm, light, and airy. Michael himself was often compared to a summer day: blisteringly hot and unforgiving. Somewhat fittingly, Samael was compared to a summer night: swelteringly hot, dark, and suffocating.

It was as true now as it had ever been, and despite his obvious flaws, Samael had always seemed more alive than the rest of the Host.

But he couldn't afford to continue his musings. He had half a continent to cover and only a week to settle his other affairs.

It was time to get to work.


Axis Mundi, the Free City
Seat of the High Council

Fire powered through the sky, a trail of rippling air in its wake. Its arrival sent guards and citizens of the city running for cover as it streaked through the sky like as a meteor. He swooped through the air, fire flashed around him and he dropped into the entranceway to the great hall. The Apollomon, Svarog, strode forward confidently. The Council, petulant little godheads, had called on him for some task. As if he was one of their subjects to be beckoned like a dog.

He would see what they wanted, if only to throw it in their faces. They had no sense of honor or justice; just a bunch of pandering and back-patting until conflicts simply faded away. This was probably some sort of pointless errand. It was probably Mogis that suggested his involvement, Svarog figured, if only to lord his authority over him. Whatever the task, whatever the mundane chore they sought to send him on...they would regret insulting him, the son of Iroas Rod.

As it turned out, however, his arrival was not the only one that had the populace of the Free City stirring. Scores of Digimon assembled in the streets to watch the procession of warriors march towards the Temple of the Council. Svarog didn't have the patience to trod through the dirt and prostrate himself before the Council. The dozens of warriors behind him grumbled their displeasure at, but he cared little for their petty hurt feelings.

He strode into the great hall, flanked by warriors on all sides, jostling for position, edging each other out, hoping to curry favor by being first to bask in the Council's glow.

"Children, the lot of you," Svarog snarled. He turned up the temperature of the fires surrounding him; not enough to hurt anyone, just enough for them to give him space.

"Welcome," boomed a massive Vulcanusmon. Indra was his name. Svarog had spent a long time away from the politics and the backstabbing of Council court, but he still remembered these gods. "We thank you for your attendance."

Even the way they spoke of thanks reeked of falsehoods. Svarog almost spat in defiance. Their voices rang from the mountaintops as if they were better than everyone else. Better than all the mortals, better than even him. It was precisely this that led him to discard the trappings of royalty and seek real glory.

"These are troubling times," spoke another god, an Apollomon. Heliod. Svarog recognized him. It was like looking into a mirror. "I'm sure many of you have already heard at least rumors of what stirs in the south. It is my unfortunate responsibility to confirm those rumors."

There were murmurs among the assembled host of warriors.

"Lord Heliod speaks of the Royal Knights," said a shimmering Dianamon. The goddess Nylea.

"It's why we've called you here," said the Minervamon. Pharika; she stood with all the poise of a fellow warrior. Finally, someone who spoke his language.

"And what, if at all, was the reason you didn't consult me, Xenagos?" spoke another voice, this time from amongst the crowd of summoned warriors. The sea of fighters parted and an Imperialdramon, armored in black, strode towards the Council.

"Thor," the Bacchusmon couldn't even look the Imperialdramon in the eye, never mind say his name without flinching. "I-"

"When Galahad approached me, I came straight to you," Thor interjected, causing quite the commotion among the warriors. You didn't just interrupt a Council member. "I asked that I be included in the decisions made going forward. Was I unclear in that regard, old friend?"

"Thor, I-"

"Thor Odinson," the Marsmon Council member boomed.

Mogis. Svarog fought the urge to curse.

"Outside these walls you are the crowned prince of Asgard. Perhaps there we might -- out of courtesy -- owe you explanations. But within these walls, the word of the Council is absolute. And you will respect the Council," Mogis all but scolded the Imperialdramon.

"My apologies, Lord Mogis, Lord Xenagos," Thor forced out.

"We figured, perhaps, that you'd be too busy ruling Asgard to be bothered with a Council summons," smirked a Mercurymon. He drummed his fingers on his chin. Svarog felt a shiver run down his spine. He trusted Phenax least of all.

"I haven't set foot in Asgard since my father died, Phenax," Thor shot back.

"Oh. Not very responsible of you," said a voice off to the side. A Piedmon stepped forward from behind a nearby pillar. He seemed inappropriately at-ease with interrupting a Council member. But it wasn't his lack of decorum that bothered Svarog. Every shifty and slimy impression he'd felt from Phenax he felt in equal measure from this Digimon.

"Need I remind you what happened to the last Digimon that taunted me when I had the sword?" Thor all but threatened.

"For all the good it does you, Fighter Mode," Loki taunted.

"You should try to hid your obvious jealousy, Loki," Thor growled low. "It doesn't suit you."

"Perhaps," Loki waved him off. "Then again, neither does shimmering white armor."

"No, you choose clown makeup instead."

"I'm a trickster. And I'm honest about it. I fail to see the problem."

"ENOUGH!" shouted the Jupitermon. Keranos, god of storms. "I'm sick of hearing the Odinsons squabble. I don't know how your father dealt with it, but I am not your father and I will not allow it to continue! Not when we have pressing matters to attend to."

"If Thor wishes to join the force we establish to confront this threat, then we are happy to have him," said the Venusmon. Thassa. There was no malice in her voice, no sarcasm. True sincerity.

She was also very easy on Svarog's eyes.

"And we offer him our sincere apologies for not including him on the matter."

"Now that the family squabbles are out of the way, perhaps we can get back to the matter at hand?" asked the Junomon. Svarog could almost hear her eyebrow twitch with annoyance. The god of civilization stood and addressed the assembled warriors. "Sir Galahad has declared it his duty to rid our world of humans. By any means."

"We will not stand for it. It goes against ideal this Council was founded upon," said the Minervamon. "We are asking a great deal from you. But we must know if there are those among you who would stand with us.

"And go to war with the Royal Knights."
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Tis the Hour to Reload
Shula Hernandez & Tyfrigo "Frost" Rex the BlackAgumon
Axis Mundi, Seat of the High Council

"I've been summoned here by the High Council," Shula repeated. "And this is my partner, Tyfrigo Rex." She gestured to the BlackAgumon beside her.

It took a little while to get to the entrance of the hall. She hadn't been to Axis Mundi often. Only once or twice before now, so she had asked directions from the inhabitants. Then there were the glances Frost got from some of the Digimon passersby as they headed to the hall. She knew why, he was a Virus Digimon, a Black Digimon, a corrupted version of an existing species. Some were suspicious of her and her partner that they might be one of the human-Digimon partnerships that gave reason to the Royal Knights to want to get rid of humans. She didn't blame them about that. There were some who deserved it, but not all. Wasn't it enough evidence with his temperament? Or did they think that it was a farce? Either way, she hoped to show the doubters of her and Frost otherwise. They didn't need to be suspicious of them.

But now they were at the gate with one of the more paranoid guards, or at least someone who hasn't met a Tamer before. He was fidgety, seemingly stumbling over what to say to her. After introducing her and showing her Digivice, he called another guard just to be sure. She didn't mind it. It was the dwelling of the High Council, they had to be careful. So she went along with it and, once again, showed her Digivice. This guard stared at it for a while, then glanced at her and Frost before going back to the device. Another moment passed before he gave a nod and stepped back, allowing her to pass. The other guard stayed still a little longer before doing the same. Shula gave a small and bowed her head slightly in thanks. She was about to go in until Frost shouted.

"Shula! Get down!"

She did so and felt Frost's hand on her back as she crouched. She heard the shouts of the guards and others doing the same. She also heard the "whoosh" of something fast flying by followed by a thud. Now sure there was no danger, she looked up and saw an Apollomon enter the hall. Whether it noticed the ruckus it made by its dramatic entrance or not, it didn't show.

"Why that little..."

She turned to see Frost with an expression of subdued. She looked back at where the the Digimon formerly was, now gone inside the hall.

"Who was that?" she said as she, as well as those around her, stood up.

"Whoever it was, he appears to lack manners," he said, barely restraining his annoyance.

After making sure the guards were fine, she and Frost went in. Because of that, she was at the end of a group of Digimon that trailed behind the Apollomon. She guessed that these were the others that were called by the council. She also found that lots of Digimon in the group were scrambling to get to the front. Why, she couldn't understand, but the Apollomon from earlier would have none of it. She wasn't sure what he did, but whatever it was, it made most, if not all, stop and stay away from him. What happened next was, in short, a family squabble. Lord Baldur, a Wargreymon, confirmed for any doubters that the Royal Knights have indeed been killing Tamers and their Digimon in the south before saying things with his brothers Thor (who she was surprised to see here of all places) and Loki the Piedmon.

She heard Frost give a sigh beside her. He thought the same thing. The Royal Knights, the ones that nearly everyone looked up to as role models one way or another, were now enemies with the very Digimon they sought to protect. She hoped that there was some way to convince them if--or rather, when--she ever saw them. But seeing as she was human, the very species that started all of this...her hopes of doing such a thing became smaller as time went on, and she heard more of what the Royal Knights have done. Then the fact that she knew very well why would they even go out against people. As varied as there were Digimon, people varied as much in personality, and that included negative ones. Arrogance, greed, cruelty... They probably saw those people first and when they see her... She didn't think it'd go well. Still, she could hope, and she'll take the chance if she saw it.

Eventually, the dispute ended when one of the council members, that Frost said was Zeus the Jupitermon, shouted, in short, to stop. A Venusmon offered the council's apologies to the Asgardian heir. Then an EmperorWargreymon said, "Now that the family squabbles are out of the way, perhaps we can get back to the matter at hand?"

The dragon knight then stood and addressed the assembled warriors. "Sir Galahad has declared it his duty to rid our world of humans. By any means."

"We will not stand for it. It goes against ideal this Council was founded upon," said a MedievalGallantmon. "We are asking a great deal from you. But we must know if there are those among you who would stand with us.

"And go to war with the Royal Knights."

She was right. She knew it. She saw this coming right from the moment they heard of the Knights' plans.

Shula and Frost stepped to the front, so that they may be seen, their determined expressions a mirror of each other.

"We will," she and Frost said in synch, their gazes not wavering at any eyes that might be on them.

She could care less about what the Digimon around her might think of her, or Frost. Especially Frost. She can help, and since Frost is as willing to as help as much as her, she will.
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The Reforged Soul
Theo Grayson the BlackWarGreymon
Free City of Axis Mundi

He walked slowly through the gates of the great city. For many days, he’d journeyed through the wild lands to the edge of civilization after receiving a vague summons. The traveler had half a mind to ignore it and remain in his solitude, but a summons from the High Council was not something to be taken lightly. Especially if they were desperate to recruit a digimon at his age.

If a city habitant bothered to notice his presence, they would only see a hulking form shrouded beneath a brown tattered cloak with charcoal black claws for feet and hands. Occasionally, black and gray armor became visible with the movements of the cloak, stained and tarnished from neglect. However, the traveler remained in the shadows of buildings away from the eyes of digimon.

Rather, than join the throng of visiting warriors in the main street, the cloaked figure turned into a quiet side alley. Unhurried, he continued on a winding path through the city to the Temple of the High Council. The route he chose was longer, but he traveled unhindered and soon approached the Temple grounds, finally joining the crowded procession of warriors to enter the inner chambers.

Unlike those pushing and shoving for a vantage and visible point in front of the Council, the cloaked warrior selected a spot along the wall in darkened corner. He parked on a plain stone bench leaning forward heavily on his knees with his head hung low. The cloaked figure paid little attention to the activity in the center of the room, rather he closed his eyes weary from travel. The voices of the Council members carried well enough for him to hear.

The welcome and opening statements by the HerculesKabuterimon and Wargreymon failed to draw a reaction from him. Rather, the mention of the Royal Knights caused the hooded head to rise in attention gradually. He remained that way unmoving until the quarreling Asgardian brothers were silence by Zeus himself.

...perhaps we can get back to the matter at hand?" asked the EmperorGreymon, a god of Vanaheim. The dragon knight stood and addressed the assembled warriors. "Sir Galahad has declared it his duty to rid our world of humans. By any means."

The cloaked figure drew in a sharp breath. His breath quickened. No.

"We will not stand for it. It goes against ideal this Council was founded upon."

He rose steadfully and without hesitation.

"We are asking a great deal from you. But we must know if there are those among you who would stand with us."

He made his way through the crowd of warriors to the front.

"And go to war with the Royal Knights."

The cloaked warrior brushed past the last of the assembled digimon with little resistance. The High Council was asking every warrior present to go up against Saga’s greatest and most powerful protectors. They were silent and dumbfounded.

He was not.

Moments after a female tamer and her BlackAgumon partner declared their intent, he stepped forward as well. Eyes of those around him finally noticed his presence. Pulling away the hood of his ragged cloak, a black horned helmet appeared with weary yellow eyes. Grayed yellow hair, wild and unkempt, trailed down his back.

The BlackWarGreymon stood before the Council. “Aye, I’ll fight,” he answered with heavy resignation. For Kyle.

The old soldier, Theo Grayson, would take up battle once again.


Tessa Tesla the Wisemon
Free City of Axis Mundi


A robed digimon tromped through the city streets lost, but unconcerned. Tiny dribbles of water dripped from soak robes left a damp trail behind. The state of her clothes and disheveled appearance were lost on Tessa as she passed through the Marketplace. The Wisemon was absorbed in scribbling notes in a damp journal regarding her latest teleportation attempt. As such, she was oblivious to the cursing of a Meramon side stepping to avoid a collision, only to lose his balance and crash into a vendor’s fruit stand.

Needless to say pandemonium broke out as several water-type digimon rushed to put the resulting fire out.

Finishing her notes, Tessa closed her journal with a satisfying thwump.

“Eureka!” The female Wisemon proclaimed exuberantly, startling the digimon around her. “My most accurate teleport jump on the first try yet,” she said proudly to the open air, “the vertical vector still needs some tweaking though.”

“Now, to focus on the task at hand,” Tessa muttered, looking at her surroundings, “I need to find the Temple and be there at the designated time the message gave me.”

Noticing a steady stream of digimon moving to the north, Tessa shielded her pale eyes with a hand to see past them and finding the Great Temple in the distance. With a firm nod in confidence for her destination, Tessa strolled through the rest of the Marketplace and grabbed a lonely apple that had rolled away from the flaming fruit stand for a snack.

The Wisemon actually made decent progress until she nearly bypassed a carved relief in the side of building. She jerked to an abrupt stop. And stared. Why oh why did it look so familiar? Head popping up recollection, Tessa quickly snapped her fingers, summoning the Book.

Out of thin air, a massive tome, as big as she was, appeared and its heavy pages opened with a mental command. A wizardmon got bonked on the head from the tome’s hardcover and knocked out in pile on the ground. Finding the page she was searching, Tessa found a sketch of the exact relief along with comprehensive notes on the symbolism, style, and history of it, written in her father’s elaborate penmanship.

Releasing a small, content sigh, Tessa savored the connection with her father for it meant he’d been in this very same spot many years ago. Her current task forgotten, Tessa read through her father’s extensive notes with the same enthusiasm as the first time she did.

Sigh. This was going to take a while.
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God of Monsters
The Council members seemed pleased, Thor noted, with the number of warriors answering their call. He'd rarely seen Heliod look this proud - and not even of himself. Heliod was proud of all of those warriors; for daring to stand and fight and join the Council's mission. Even Loki seemed content.

That made Thor uneasy. Loki was never content unless he was stirring up trouble and had his fingers in someone else's business. He liked to put his finger on the scale, to tamper with results so they suited him most of all.

At least, he had.

Thor had to admit that since their father died, he hadn't spoken to any his brothers - or much of anyone. He had no way of knowing just how greatly Odin's death had effected them. Loki had always acted out in a bid for Odin's attention; he had neither Thor's prowess for battle nor his father's stately manner. He'd found other, more daring, ways to stand out. In the past Thor would have believed his alliance and service to the Council as another blatant grab for power. But no one would be able to see through that better than Phenax. And if Loki, Phenax, and the entire Council believed in this fight...

Thor had seen the mad desperation in Galahad's eyes. This would get ugly.

Despite the Minervamon's, impassioned speech, many of the summoned warriors left. Thor had met Pharika in his more turbulent youth. She had a way with words that cut through the superfluous and laid bare reality. It was no wonder that nearly half the warriors chose to walk away. Who in their right mind would dare to wage war against the Royal Knights?

But then again, how could you turn down a call to arms from the Council?

Even the Tamers had answered the call. They had no allegiance to Saga beyond what they chose to shoulder themselves. Of course, after learning exactly what they were up against, a good portion of them left, but many remained.

"Well. Let's begin," said Ephara, the Junomon, taking the floor. She was a god of civilization and planning, of course the Council would ask her to direct the operation. She nodded, and the center of the room lit with a strange ethereal glow. A holographic map of Saga formed between the assembled warriors and the Council. "We've assembled here," she said, pointing to Axis Mundi, a red blip appeared.

"The Knights' stronghold of Camelot is located here, on the isle of Avalon," Ephara continued. She pointed south of Axis Mundi to a large island. "Reconnaissance places the majority of the Royal Knights away from Camelot. Sir Galahad, Sir, Kay, and Sir Bors were seen in Kaldheim." She motioned to their locations as she spoke. "Sir Lancelot and Sir Lamorak were spotted in Greystone last night. Sir Percival and Sir Dagonet were reported in Valeron. Sir Tristan and Sir Gawain were last seen in petitioning the Chess Kingdoms for aid. That leaves Sir Caradoc, Sir Bedivere, Sir Guinier, and Sir Gareth stationed in Camelot."

"The plan is to isolate those four groups while simultaneously sending an assault team to take Camelot," said Purphoros, the Vulcanusmon fire god. "Members of the Council will be joining each of the squadrons, the largest of which will be sent to Camelot."

"We cannot hope to match the Knights in terms of tactics or cooperation," said Nylea, the Dianamon god of the moon and hunt. "What we have over them are numbers," she pointed to the warriors. "And raw power." She pointed to the gods of the Council. "Together we will use these to our advantage and rout the Royal Knights before they are able to implement any more of their crusade."

"We will have our hands full with the Royal Knights," said the Plutomon, Erebos, god of the dead. "We'll need field leaders for the rest of you to coordinate our strike."

Thor thought to volunteer, but stopped himself. He needed to focus on the battle, not on leading their motley crew of bruisers and brawlers. Better to let someone else bear that burden. He had enough on his shoulders just trying to get through to the Knights. Get them to stop this madness.

"I'll volunteer," said a Slayerdramon. He strode forward and saluted Andraste. "Drakn Stromheart. I served under Lady Gwendolyn of Glen Elendra during the Three Nights."

"She was very capable," said Ephara. "I expect the same from you. You'll join me in the assault on Camelot." Another fighter stepped forward. "And you are?"

"Rhys Koenig of Greystone," the VictoryGreymon announced, bowing his head. "Captain of the Axis Mundi Greysguard."

"We'll have you accompany Lord Heliod, Lord Purphoros, and Lord Xenagos's group to intercept the knights at Greystone," Erebos said.

Over the next half hour, the Ephara and the Council set about dividing the assembled warriors into five groups. Heliod, Purphoros, and Xenagos would bring a group to Greystone. Keranos, Pharika, and Ephara would lead a force to confront Galahad's group in Kaldheim. Nylea and Phenax would lead the strike against the knights in Valeron. Erebos and Mogis would bring a squad of warriors to the Chess Kingdoms. Karametra and Kruphix would lead the attack on Camelot while Thassa remained behind and served as the sole Council member in their absence.

Thor scoffed, leaving a single Council member in charge was almost reckless. If they were going to attack the Knights' stronghold, the Knights could very well field the same tactic. Though it made sense, then, that Ephara would send the Council members themselves into battle. There was no one else who could both contain the Knights and serve to inspire the citizens of Saga. It had to be the Council.

But that meant they'd be sending him to Camelot with the assault team. In the eyes of Saga, the battle was between the Council and the Knights. Having him there would only muddle that perception. But the real battle was at Camelot. If they could take it, they would isolate the Royal Knights and cut off their support.

That was why Andraste was leading the attack on Kaldheim. It would take her tactical expertise to take Galahad. It didn't take much for gods to confront knights in the open.

"We leave at first light tomorrow," Karametra said, addressing and Kruphix's group. Aside from Thor it also included a Justimon, a Valkyrimon, a Wisemon, an Apollomon, a GrandisKuwagamon, a WereGarurumon, and a number of others, including the Slayerdramon that was supposed to "lead" their team while Karametra and Kruphix faced the Knights. In addition, a swath of human tamers had been summoned and divided up among the teams. Andraste's team had a woman and a BlackAgumon, a young man and a Terriermon, a man and a Guilmon, a woman and a BlackGatomon, and teenage boy and his Gotsumon. There were even more brought on to the other teams.

Thor could barely believe that there were so many tamers ready to fight the Royal Knights. In all honesty, they probably weren't even aware of just how powerful the Knights were. That wasn't even considering their anger. Just how furious would the Royal Knights be when humans attacked their home? If they failed...if they weren't able to take Camelot and defeat the Knights...Galahad's wrath would be unmatched. His retribution would be swift and utterly devastating.

"Karametra and I will see to our travel preparations and tomorrow's strategy," said Kruphix. He sent a narrow glare towards Thor and then, surprisingly, scowled at the Apollomon before turning and leading the Council out of the great hall.

The hell was that about? Thor wondered, glancing at the Apollomon as well. He didn't recognize the fiery digimon, but he must have been someone to be under the Council member's skin without uttering a word.

"Then let us revel!" the aforementioned digimon declared. Laughing at Kruphix's retreating form. "Tomorrow we wage war against the Thirteen Swords Sworn Beneath the Table's Circle! Should tonight be our last, then let it be one for the ages!"

Ah, then he was a god then. Only gods spoke in such a way, of embracing destruction with revelry. Many of the assembled Digimon and tamers cheered in response. And Thor slipped out undetected.
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Just doing a quick intro post, will either have another post up soonish or I'll edit this one.

When Gentaro first got the summons, he didn't think that it was possible for him to feel more proud. Having spent so much of his time as a Hero of Justice, it felt like he was finally in the big time leagues. What he didn’t expect was just how overwhelmed he was going to be. So many emotions, so little space in his mind to actually store them all. It wasn’t the first time he was glad of it, but Gentaro was sure that if he didn’t have his mask on then he would be getting some weird stares form the expressions he would probably have been making.

“This is just so cool,” he muttered to himself, making his way into the Temple of the Council. He was impressed that he only needed to ask for directions six times!

There were so many digimon within the temple, Gentaro couldn’t believe it. There was the council themselves, their mere presence was enough to send Gentaro into a state of catatonic awe, but there was a number of digimon there, as well as human tamers. They must have all answered the summons of the council, just like he did, which made sense. And the best thing about there being a whole bunch of digimon and people there? So many new friends to eventually make! He was sure that there would be grand thrilling adventures that would help forge the bonds of friendship! But that was enough of that for now, he was here for a reason.

“I will stand with you against the Royal Knights!”

Gentaro’s voice was strong and clear, a slight edge to it from his contained rage. The Royal Knights were meant to be the greatest heroes there were! Their betrayal, their vendetta against the tamers was enough to tarnish the idea of being a Hero of Justice! He was prepared to do whatever it would take to deal with the Royal Knights, and he was ready to make sure that everyone else was going to at the same level of preparedness!


Kimber walked through Axis Mundi, calm and collected. She already suspected what the Council was summoning digimon for, having already experienced the aftermath of others believing the Royal Knight’s tripe. Kimber scowled, remembering what it had been like. How it felt protecting the tamers, always having the slighest inkling of fear in the back of her mind. Knowing that the even though they wouldn’t say anything, the tamers were terrified of what might happen. Even after she stayed as a protector for the Tamer haven, there was still the undercurrent of fear, of what if, that ran through the whole place.

Kimber didn’t even realise that her fists were clenched until she noticed the pain in her hands. She snapped out of her mind, she had something to do here, Kimber was here for the greater good. Her pace was brisk, Kimber wasted no more time getting to the Temple of the Council, ready for what awaited. Ready for what she believed to be the inevitable actions against the Royal Knights. Ready to take up the cause.

“You shall have my bow!”

Like the over enthusiastic Justimon standing close by her, Kimber wasted no time making sure that the MedievalGallantmon addressing the crowd knew that she was ready to join the cause. Kimber wasn’t going to let the Royal Knight continue with their reign of terror any longer than was necessary.


Tis the Hour to Reload
Shula Hernandez & Tyfrigo "Frost" Rex the BlackAgumon
Temple of the Council -> Axis Mundi Pub

Many others followed after her, but many more also left. She wasn't all to surprised about the latter, now that she thought about it. The Royal Knights were the greatest and some of the most powerful Digimon in the entire world. They had slain various evils across the land, even if it wasn't the same people across the generations. It was crazy, insane, to even think of going toe-to-toe with them. But she wasn't the most cautious person, and she was going to help. She was happy to see many Tamers join the cause.

The coucil, or rather the MedievalDukemon from the council, then spoke of the locations of the Knights, and their plans. They were scattered across the land. She couldn't really remember who was where, only remembering one Knight was in Camelot and some, one or two, were seeking aid from the Chess Kingdom...or something. She was never one for locations, hence why she let Frost lead whenever they travelled. She'd mix up directions if it's more than three. The MedievalDukemon than told of the plan. The council and the gathered warriors are going to split up and send them to each group, as well as one straight into the heart of Camelot. They were then assigned to their groups. Surprisingly, she was assigned in the very same group with the god Thor. The same group that are going to attack the Royal Knight's castle. Among the group were also a bunch of Tamers and Digimon, including a Justimon, a Garudamon, and that same Apollomon that they saw outside.

She chuckled when Frost tried to quiet his groan.

The MedievalDukemon was in their group, though as a leader, she wasn't sure. She did know the Victorygreymon and Slayerdramon (whose names slipped her memory) were going to lead the group she and Frost was in. When the assignments were done, there was only one council member staying in the temple. She saw Frost frown at that. She guessed it was something about the strategy, or rather a reckless one. She saw that face before, whenever she suggested an almost stupid and absolutely reckless idea. He had that face because as much as he thought that it was stupid, he knew it was the best option. It wasn't like they were on equal terms of the same things. Like one of the council members said, they had numbers and sheer raw power, but the Royal Knights were tightly knit and, thanks to that, well coordinated. Not all of them had military experience. The MirageGaogamon told all of the warriors that they would be providing for the trip. They were to leave at morning.

And with that, they were dismissed. Shula noticed that one of the council members was speaking with Thor. She didn't quite catch what the member said but she did see the glare sent to the Apollomon, then that Digimon left.

"It seems that I was right of his lack of manners..." she heard Frost whispered.

A beat.

That probably was the reason why the Apollomon was glared at. But was he really that bad? It had to be if he got a glare before he even said anything. Said Digimon then suggested to revel before they leave, for it might be the last day of their life.

Shula froze. Last...day? She never thought about that until now. The thought of death didn't occur to her. If that what the Apollomon said should come to pass on her, than...than she had to tell Frost how she felt for him. She wasn't going to die before she told him. But...how would he react? She didn't want to ruin their friendship, but she knew she'd regret at least not telling him.


What if someone heard?


She was snapped back to the present and looked down to see Frost's worried face.

"Are...you fine?"

She blinked and shook her head. "Heh, sorry about that. I was just thinking about what that Apollomon said."

Frost's expression quickly change to one of annoyance. "Please don't tell me we're going to the establishment he's heading to."

Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. She wanted a distraction right now. "Well, we don't have anything better to do. They're gonnaprovide for the trip. I want to check it out, at least."

He kept up his expression for a moment before he sighed. "Very well... But you're not drinking anything from there. I'd rather not find out if you have a low tolerance or not."

She smiled warmly.


It was night by the time she and Frost found the pub the Apollomon chose. It took a while, partly from getting lost, and partly from not seeing where the Digimon went. She had no idea how long had the Apollomon had been in here, but it was certainly festive. Some where dancing, some were talking, and some were having drinking competitions. Most were too wrapped up in said activities to pay attention to her arrival. She couldn't really see if there were any humans around. As the pair made their to the counter, she looked around the place. She wondered what was the Apollomon doing. From how he sounded when he suggested to revel, he was probably drinking. She and Frost sat down at the shorter part of the counter, made for, well, the shorter Digimon that might come in. She was still looking across the pub when a voice said,

"What do you want to drink?"

She turned her head and saw a Kumamon behind the counter asked.

"No, thank you. Do you have anything to eat?" Frost said.

"I don't think we have anything for humans, but we do have burgers made by Burgermon."

Frost briefly glanced at her then back at the bartender. "That's fine. We'll have one each."

The ice bear Digimon nodded then went off. Shula then turned her attention back to the rest of the pub again. She just watched those around her while she waited. She watched those who danced. She noticed that some of them were couples, and were enjoying themselves, looking affectionately at each other. Her eyes became distant at that. Seeing those pairs... She was reminded of her own love for Frost, and it was almost depressing. She kept trying to look away and get her mind focus on something else, but somehow, she couldn't. She knew why, a part of her wished she and Frost were one of those couples.

A tap on her shoulder made her look back and saw Frost holding a burger in the hand he tapped her with.

"Here's yours," he said.

She stared at the food for a moment, then took it out of his hand. Since she took it, he started to eat his own. She too ate hers, but she had her gaze back on those dancing again. The fun they were having, the happiness...from each other. She knew it was wrong for a human to like something well, other than human. It wasn't right, but... She swallowed the last piece of her burger. ...she couldn't stand it.

She stood up and went out of the entrance. There, she stood near it, but out of the pasageway, thought it was probably not needed as there were few out nearby the pub and it didn't look like anyone was going out anytime soon. She leaned against the wall and breathed heavily. Why was she getting so worked up about this? This wasn't like her. But she knew. She knew why she was acting this way. Not only because of maybe ruining her friendship, and her consience telling her it's wrong, but because of what others might do if they found out her feelings, whether Frost reciprocates them or not. What if they condemn her and try to hurt Frost? What if they tried to take him away from her? What if...they tried to kill him...?


She looked to her side and saw Frost rush out with a very worried expression. He frantically looked around until he saw her. He sighed in relief but then he looked angry.

"Shula. What in blazes was that? Why did you walk out like you were going to heave up your meal?" he said in a rather angry tone. But Shula knew he was only like that because he was worried, very worried.

She bit her lip. Can she tell him? She looked around, seeing if anyone was within hearing distance. She didn't find anyone that were near, or anyone who had good hearing. She looked back into the entrance. It didn't seem that anyone was near there either.

"What's wrong, Shula?" he said, this time more sternly.

She faced him. He was determined to get it out of her,and it seemed like nobody could possibly hear what she would say if she was quiet enough. She breathed in. This was really it, she was going to tell him. She made eye contact with him.

"Do you...remember those times when I, like, looked distant. Like I was deep in thought and when you asked me what was on my mind, I just smiled?" she began.

Frost frowned in confusion, but answered nonetheless. "Yes, indeed. Before we Biomerged for the first time."

A small smile spread on Shula's lips. "Yeah. Well, I was doing that before because...because..." her smile faded. "...because..."

He said softly and worriedly, "Because of what?"

She took in another breath. "Because I... I was trying to come to terms that I... ...fell in love with you."

Frost blinked, surprised. A few moments passed, the two just staring at each other's eyes. Shula patiently waiting for whatever he might say next.

"How long?"

She gave a weak smile, happy that she finally told him, but fearing what might happen. "For a while now."

He blinked again and looked down. He was thinking. He's done that before. Then why was her heart still pounding when she knew that? Another moment passed before he looked back to her.

"And you ran out because you were reminded of that feeling?"

She flinched and looked away. She felt shame for that. For her, love wasn't just the intimacy, it was also supporting the other and improving yourself for them. Even if you weren't neccessarily in a relationship with them, if you truly loved them, you'd be happy that they were happy. But it was so hard.

"I-I understand if-if-if you--you know..." She sighed. "...like, don't feel the same and...and...and if you don't want to talk about it. It's-it's...it's just that I... I wanted you to know..."

She felt something on the side of her leg and looked to see Frost's hand against it, and he showed a warm and sympathetic face.

"It's okay, I understand. ...I'm not sure if I feel the same, but I do know this: I care about you, so perhaps I've loved you all this time. I've only felt your love," he said.

For the first time in a long time, she felt embarrassed and her smiled showed that. "Well, you're acting like it." She was still jappy about what just happened.

Frost's smile became wider. "There's the Shula I know."

Another moment of relative silence passed, but this time it wasn't tense or awkward. In fact, it felt calm...it was tranquil. They just enjoyed the quiet.

"Do you wish to dance?"

Shula laughed out loudly. She didn't notice Frost's glad smile at seeing her laugh. When she was done, she said with a teasing grin,

"You're a bit too short for that."

He shrugged and said with his own mischievous smile,* "Aren't there other types of dances than the one used in human courtship?"

Shula just kept her smile. "Thanks. Really."

"My pleasure." He looked to the entrance then back to her. "Shall we find somewhere to rest? Or shall we go back?"

Shula thought about it. She looked at the entrance again. "You know, how about we dance the night away?" she said with her silly grin back on.

Frost rolled his eyes. He had heard her sing that song before. Thankfully, she had a fair singing voice. It certainly wasn't the best, but it was good enough that it wasn't cringeworthy and most wouldn't ask her to stop singing because of her voice. Unless they didn't like the song itself. Even though he did that, he smiled back. Perhaps he did love her like she loved him. He certainly didn't mind the thought.

He said, "If you don't stop the allusions, I won't."

She chuckled and headed back in, the love of her life by her side. Even if the Apollomon really didn't have any manners, she was glad he had suggested that. She wasn't sure if there would be any better oppurtunity to tell Frost.


The Reforged Soul
Theo Grayson, BlackWarGreymon
Axis Mundi Pub

The lively pub was brightly lit as the BlackWarGraymon entered through the inviting door. Patrons chattered at the bar with one another and others gambled with cards at the tables littering the open floor. Theo had discarded the cloak before coming and attempted to tame his wild mane of grey-yellow hair with mixed results.

He passed through the crowds of digimon with ease and settled for a bar stool to one side of the bar. Carefully, he unsheathed his claws from the Dramon Killers and hung them from straps on his back. Leaning forward, he stared at the mirrored wall with rows of hard liquor drinks.

“What’ll it be for you, sugar?” A plump female Lekismon drawled, swiping down the counter with a clean cloth.

Theo perked up his downcast gaze. “Just a lite ale, that’s all.”

“Ya sure, hon?” the Lekismon asked, grabbing a clear empty glass from behind the counter. “All the other selected warriors are wheelin’ and dealin’ their money pouches empty and having a good time.” The female bartender filled the glass from the tap and plopped it on the bartop in front of Theo.

“I’m sure,” he said quietly, taking a sip of his drink. “War isn’t an occasion to celebrate, especially when you’re going against the ones that Saga once looked to for protection.”

“Ahh, So you’re one of those?” The Lekismon nodded, leaning forward on the bar, her chin cradled in her palm.

“I beg your pardon?” Theo asked quizzly.

“Old souls who’ve seen and done too much.” The bartender drawled. “Ah’ve had many of your type hang around here over the ages, usually drinking themselves under the table in misery.”

The BlackWarGreymon kept silent. A great cheer erupted among the patrons with a clacking of steins. Theo glanced over his shoulder to witnessed the ongoing limbo game in the center of the room. The bartender watched him with a kind expression.

“Don’t cha worry, hon, you just let Miss Nadia take care of you,” she said jovially with a wink. Theo blushed crimson and knocked his glass off the counter startled. Nadia chuckled heartly, “Nah, sugar, we’re a reputable pub, we don’t offer those sort of services, though the local hostel is just down the block.”

“Thank the gods,” Theo muttered, embarrassed. He leaned over his seat to picked up the dropped and now empty glass. Nadia reached for it with an open hand and Theo handed it off.

“Nah, Ah only meant for ya to come to the pub anytime you soldier boys come back to Axis Mundi,” Nadia explained, giving him a refill of his drink, “and we’ll talk till the moon turns blue.”
“Thank you...Nadia. I’ll consider your offer,” Theo replied in kind.

“Good, Ah look forward to your company, sugar,” Nadia exclaimed. “Now if you’ll excuse, Ah gotta go check on my busiest group of customers.” The bartender inclined her head towards the rowdy group near the Apollomon.

The old soldier finished his drink in silence. He considered heading back to the room he’d arranged for the night, instead Theo remained at the pub, reminiscing the old days of his commanderie.


Tessa Tesla, Wisemon
Temple of the Council

Tessa felt a finger jabbing into her backside, dragging her out of reading. An angry wizardmon glared daggers at her with a nugget-size bump on his forehead. Oh darn, I did it again.

“Sorry, Mister Wizardmon, sir! I really am! But I need to be heading off to the Temple.” She said hastily, summoning up her Space and Time Orbs. A portal opened up behind her and the Wisemon swiftly took a step back.

A mere second later, the Wisemon popped out from midair with little fanfare, stumbling a bit since she came out a few inches above the ground. Tessa brushed herself off and glanced around to see herself surrounded by crowds of digimon and human tamers. Ahead a MedivielGallantmon spoke to the assembled warriors with great conviction, though the Wisemon only caught the tail of the Council Member’s speech.

"And go to war with the Royal Knights." What the heck did she blunder into now?

Confused, Tessa nudged a digimon next to her, “What is she talking about?” The digimon rolled his eyes, “In short, the Royal Knights are evicting the humans from Saga and the Council isn’t too happy about it.” With that said, the digimon turned around left with several others out the door. Ah.

Tessa observed as many digimon and digimon with human partners stepped forward heeding the Council’s call to arms. She considered the message sent to her father’s book and who might have sent it.

For as many warriors leaving, just as many boldly presented themselves forward. Digimon of all types, shapes, and sizes proclaimed their willingness to stand and fight for the Council. Tessa looked on intrigued as humans and their partners also stood forward. (They were called Tamers, right?) The young Wisemon had only been journeying for little more than a year and had yet to stumble upon a Tamer Encampment.

Such a war that Saga has not seen in ages past. A war between mortal Knights and the gods of old over the fate of those not of this world, Tessa mused.

“I’ll go, “ She volunteered, more serious than usual. “You’ll need a chronicler for the occasion.”

The meeting continued with a debriefing for all those warriors remaining. Tessa listened intently and fascinated. She was no warrior or master of tactics, but she could keep track of all the information and organize it in her mind with ease. Heck, she could calculate algorithms in her head for transdimensional jumps, this was a cake walk.

The Council members dismissed everyone for the evening as they left to prepared for tomorrow’s endeavor. Tessa intrigued as she was to experience ‘a reverly”, she waited till the last of the warriors had departed, leaving her behind in the near empty council chambers.

Her father was always a pursuer of hard facts, science, and experience what was solid before his eyes. Tessa was very much the same way most of the time, but she’d inherited a more instinctive understanding of her environment from her mother.

Simply sitting in quiet, dark chamber room, Tessa slowed her overclocked mind and relaxed in the cool heavy air. The very atmosphere spoke volumes of the layers of history and events occurring through the ages in words she could not express. Tucking her arms into the pockets of her robes, Tessa rose after a while and contented herself with wandering the Temple and its Gardens for the rest of the evening.

An angelic lullaby hummed gently through the corridors as she strolled through the grounds.
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God of Monsters
Axis Mundi, the Free City
Horvath's Tavern

"The beast glowered low, jaws dripping with some rotting soup of innards and bile. It let out a roar like you would not believe. A howl from the endless void," Svarog regaled his audience. His voice burned low and billowed hot at the same time. His eyes were like two coals, smoldering in their sockets. "You cannot imagine the smell. That alone nearly killed me."

There were a few laughs, but none dared to break into the story. And the memory of those same monsters was still fresh and frightening. Most of the listening digimon were young when the plague came, but they remembered it well. Svarog's guttural, visceral account was frighteningly real for them.

"So I roared back," Svarog continued, his fist clenched in front of him, heat and embers drifting upwards. "For what kind of thing dared to challenge me? What kind of nightmare dared to face the sun and the light of day? The beast had declared war on all living things." He smirked. "Unfortunately for its sorry lot. I love to fight wars."

"So what did you do?" asked one of his audience, a human male sitting beside a Dracmon.

"I killed it, of course," Svarog answered, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "I split it into a thousand pieces. And with each piece of it, I beat one of its fellows to death; with each piece of them, I crushed another. On and on until the beasts lay dead in my wake for miles. Until their dissipating data blotted out the sun and turned the sky black."

"Why have I never heard this story before?" asked a lone MasterTyrannomon after a moment of silence. "Stories are told about those battles all the time. I remember those dark days. But I've never heard your story."

"Because despite being a fond memory, it is not a very compelling story," Svarog chided him, waving off his question. "There's nothing fascinating killing a bunch of mindless beasts, however fun it might have been." He turned to the bartender, a Lekismon, and raised his glass. "Another!"

Svarog glanced away as the Lekismon hurried to bring his drink. He scanned the room, recognizing several faces from the Council Hall. How many of these souls would not survive tomorrow? He tried to commit them to memory. The more he fought, the harder it was to do. Mortals all ended up looking the same to him; just a collection of fleetingly-brief data. By the time he bothered to learn their names, most mortals had long since passed. Only Venser stood apart in his mind.

That was why he fought. Despite all his talk of "glory" and "valor" there was nothing worse for a war god than fighting without a cause. It turned them mad, turned them into gods of bloodlust and slaughter. And so Svarog fought for those mortals that reminded him of his friend. Those defiant and foolishly-brave few.

He caught sight of a human woman and her BlackAgumon partner dancing closely towards the edge of the bar floor. It was an odd sight, that much was certain - a tall human, a short digimon...dancing. It was almost laughably outrageous, and this was what the Royal Knights were willing to go to war for? This is what they would invoke his sovereignty for?

This is what everyone would say he was fighting for? Svarog, champion of humans. Defender of the soft-skins. And because the world couldn't possibly understand his values it would forever see this as his cause - this pitifully absurd display.

It made his blood boil, and his boisterous laugh turned into a grim snarl. He stepped away from the crowd and found a seat at the bar next to the glum BlackWarGreymon. Svarog tapped the bar and downed another drink.

"A farce," he said grimly. "Fighting for them. How will they ever become strong if they don't fight their own battles?" He shook his head. "This is what we're going to war for."


Axis Mundi, the Free City
Temple of the High Council

Thor had slipped away once the Apollomon declared revelry. On any other occasion, he would have joined them, if this were several years ago, he would have done so without a second thought. But ever since his father's death, ever since feeling the weight of the sword in his hands he'd become distinctly aware of just how heavy the world was. It made revelry all the more difficult.

So he'd taken to wandering the halls of the Temple. His brothers and the rest of the Council had retreated into the inner sanctum to arrange for the battle ahead, and that left Thor largely unbothered by whatever squabbles might arise. He found himself wandering towards the courtyard, where an elegant fountain bubbled away undisturbed. The waters glowed softly with the divine power of the place, of the Council. And Thor found his eyes drawn to the great carving of his father and the foundation of the Royal Knights. The thirteen knights were embossed into the stone, posing as if holding a mountaintop against a terrible enemy on all sides. And at the top of the mountain, with the White Sword held aloft, stood Odin.

His presence filled the courtyard, and even against the mere depiction of Odin, Thor felt small.

He heard a low, whispering sound float through the halls. A song - an old one at that - echoed off the old stone. He turned to the source, a Wisemon wandering through the courtyard.

"Are you one of the warriors the Council summoned?" Thor asked.


The Reforged Soul
Theo Grayson
Horvath’s Tavern

The stool next to him slid with screech as another patron joined him at the bar. Theo continued to glance down at the worn wooden bar, idly running a claw over the smooth surface of the glass.

“A farce.” His claw paused its circling motion. “Fighting for them. How will they ever become strong if they don’t fight their own battles.” The clawed hand tighten around the glass. “This is what we’re going to war for.”

The glass cracked sharply from the pressure applied to it. “You speak of the Tamers and their Partners, correct?” Forcibly relaxing his clawed fingers, Theo finally glance sideways to address the Apollomon seated next to him.

“The tamers are still young, growing,” he spoke calmly. “They have not yet the years of experience to carry them as such the Knights do.”

The old soldier rapidly cooled the spike in his temper, almost caught off guard by how strongly he had reacted.

“Though I wouldn’t speak as if you know the strength of humans,” Theo chided, leaning on an elbow. “Most digimon don’t. Their strength isn’t power or physical strength, but rather, strength of will.”

“Nadia!” the BlackWarGreymon knocked on the bar to get the Lekismon’s attention. “A stronger drink, please.” The Lekismon promptly plopped the ordered drink in front of him with a grin.

Theo grunted in thought, “It’s like, us, mortals trying to understand the ways of the gods.” He said in comparison, unaware of his company’s heritage. He tossed the hard liquor back in a single swig.

“Some will rise to the occasion.” Theo glanced at the BlackAgumon and his tall partner dancing with forlorn longing.

Tessa Tesla
Axis Mundi, Temple Gardens

Tessa strolled casually through the ancient stone archways and meticulously groomed gardens. A illuminating stream flowed throughout the courtyard from a central fountain to a quiet pond. The Wisemon was drawn to the fountain, dipping a hand in the clear waters and swishing about in circles. Her mother's song made the setting seem more magical.

"Are you one of the warriors the Council summoned?" A voice called out, starting Tessa from her thoughts.

“Who me?” She asked, quickly realizing afterwards there was no one else beside her and the Imperialdramon in the Gardens.

“Funny you should say that, I was sent a summons, “She admitted truthfully, scratching the back of her hooded head sheepishly, “but it was intended for my father, not me.”

Tessa stepped over to a nearby bench to have a seat, smoothing out the thick robe and tossing her lavender scarf over her shoulder.

“I came to find out who sent the message and why,” she explained with a slight sadness in her tone. “and perhaps to inform them that he passed away several years ago.”

The wisemon was quiet for a moment and then shrugged her shoulders. “In the meantime, I’ve decided to help the Council in anyway I can. I know a lot and have some useful skills.”

Tessa glanced at the Imperialdramon critically, “I’m sorry, I feel like I should recognize you from somewhere…” The monument of Odin and the Royal Knights stood behind him. She poofed a book into thin air and proceed to page through it. “The etchings on you armor indicate Asgardian…”
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God of Monsters
Axis Mundi, the Free City
Horvath's Tavern

"The tamers are still young, growing," he spoke calmly. "They have not yet the years of experience to carry them as such the Knights do. Though I wouldn’t speak as if you know the strength of humans," Theo chided, leaning on an elbow. "Most digimon don’t. Their strength isn’t power or physical strength, but rather, strength of will."

"I know the strength of all things," Svarog shot back. He'd been hoping to find a fellow fighter, a kindred spirit. Instead he'd stumbled upon this tired, bleeding-hearted old dragon. "And one does not become empowered by having others fight their battles for them. An entire people - an entire species - does not become strong by having others die for them. They should all be fighting tomorrow."

That, Svarog believed with every fiber in his being. One couldn't get stronger by standing on the sidelines and watching. One had to fight. It was the only way to become strong.

"If their physical strength isn't enough - like you said, then their 'strength of will' needs to be overwhelmingly dominant. So much so that it alone carries them to victory," Svarog chided the dragon man, scoffing as he noticed the cracked glass in his hands. Such a soft-heart would believe that kind of nonsense.

"But of course the Council would never allow such a thing," he added to himself with a snarl.

"It's like, us, mortals trying to understand the ways of the gods. Some will rise to the occasion." Theo glanced at the BlackAgumon and his tall partner dancing with forlorn longing.

Svarog let out a booming laugh. "Gods are easy to understand, young dragon," Svarog almost scolded. " Gods are primal, elemental things. Learn what they are, and it will tell you everything you need to know."

Svarog finished his drink and stood. "You're a strange one, dragon," he said. And not at all what I was looking for, he added silently. "Try not to get killed tomorrow, eh? I'd like very much to say 'I told you so.'"


They were drunk. Of course they were. You didn't just sign up to fight the Royal Knights without getting drunk the night before. They were the damned Royal Knights! Fighting them...it would be like fighting the ocean. These digimon had answered the Council's summons, and answered with all their passion. But now, surrounded by their doubts and their fears - and wildly drunk - they were beginning to act out.

"You believe that?" muttered an Olegmon. He downed two pitchers of ale and hurled them off to a dark corner of the tavern. He gestured wildly towards the tall human woman and her BlackAgumon partner. After they started dancing several other tamer-digimon pairs joined them. "You seeing what I'm seeing?"

Beside him, a Callismon chuckled and rolled his eyes. A GrandisKuwagamon stood beside them, clicking his pincers in frustration.

"Humans and digimon. Dancing like that!" the Olegmon bellowed. "It ain't right. It's bad enough that they fuse together. But now this? It's perverse!"

"Then why bother accepting the summons from the Council?" the GrandisKuwagamon asked.

"'Cus you don't turn them down, Kheppy boy," the Olegmon chided. "Didn't I ever teach you anything? Gotta play nice with those in power."

"Get outta here!" the Callismon roared. He hurled his glass at the dancing pairs, missing terribly. He stumbled to his feet. "This is the problem. F'you just kept your whatevers goin' behind closed doors then no one'd care about humans. Let you do that on yr'own. No one wants to see what ever...this is!"

"In fact, why don't we help you along," the Olegmon stood from his seat and started towards the Tamers.


Axis Mundi, the Free City
Temple of the High Council

"I'm sorry to hear about your father," Thor said, not taking his eyes from the relief on the wall. "I lost mine as well. Some years back. It's hard. To find your own way."

"I'm sorry, I feel like I should recognize you from somewhere. The etchings on you armor indicate Asgardian…"

"Runes," Thor corrected, purposefully steering away from the question. Who was he if not his father's shadow? "You should get rest. Tomorrow will be...terrible."


The Reforged Soul
Tessa Tesla
Temple Courtyard/Gardens

“You should get rest. Tomorrow will be...terrible."

Tessa glanced up from her book, distracted from her train of thought. “You really believe it’ll be that bad?” She sighed, closing the book. “I suppose now is as good a time to try this.”

Rising from the bench and stepping closer to the center of the garden, two orbs, red and yellow, twirled in a helix pattern around her before hovering above open palms. A massive Book manifested itself, flipping pages to the Wisemon’s desired spot.

“My father traveled a great deal when he was younger and was present for the Temple Garden’s centennial bloom, his second favorite memory ,” Tessa said, by way of explanation. “He spent the entire season capturing every detail he could to remember it by.”

The young wisemon closed her orb-like eyes tight in concentration. Gradually, faint auras of light surrounded the Orbs and Book with increasing brightness and intensity of power. Archaic words escaped her mouth in whispers; building and organizing the energies needed for the Working. Streams of digital High Code leaked from the epicenter, flowing further into the courtyard and beyond the wall of bushes leading to the Garden. Occasionally, a slender hand directed a line or lines of Coding into a specific sequence.

After several moments, a final surge of energy erupted forth. The memory overlay spread out over the existing architecture and green flora, anchoring into the underlying divine energies. Roses, the color of blood, blossomed on the waist high row of bushes. In the bubbling fountain, water lillies of the deepest blue drifted in the gentle current. Miniature flowers bloomed on long, twisting vines stretched out in thick patches. Where the vines cover the relief, the flowers matched the corresponding hues of each Royal Knight creating a colorful mosaic of silken petals. Flowers of the purest white represented the White Sword.

Tessa dropped to her knees, momentarily drained from the effort. She glanced around awestruck. “By Eden…”

Coming out of her daze, Tessa explained. “It’s a memory playback, a large one at that. I could only extract a portion of the data, before I had to stop.” Startled echoes of surprise from wandering digimon came through a stone archway. Tessa giggled, smiling from within her hood.

“It’ll fade in a few minutes.”


I'll get the my bit with the bar brawl up tomorrow after work. I just really want to share this fun scene before crashing for the night.
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Tis the Hour to Reload
Shula Hernandez & Tyfrigo "Frost" Rex the BlackAgumon
Axis Mundi Pub

Once the two were inside, Shula decided that she'd teach Frost a dance from her home. The Sinulog dance. It was done during the Sinulog festival, a few weeks after New Year's. There would be a large parade through the streets, and many of the bright costumed people would dance this. Since Frost was too short for anything that needed a partner, she'd teach him this. Plus, it was from her homeland, something she was happy to share with Frost.

The dance was rather simple. Though she only did it once when her school was taking part of the parade, she still remembered how to do it. It didn't take long for Frost to figure it out and be in synch with her. She smiled brightly when that happened. Frost mimicked her smile with as much warmth as hers. She didn't care for how silly they may look now. She was dancing with Frost, after she confessed her love, and he took it well. That was all she needed, his acceptance.

After a while, she and Frost started to dance in any way that seemed fitting to the tunes she was humming. First she hummed "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" then drifted to some Queen songs before it finally settled on Beethoven's Fur Elise. She felt the Digimon around her were probably confused on what kind of song she was humming, but she had sung them to Frost once or twice, the Queen songs especially. It was unbelievable. It was almost like a dream to her, dancing with Frost. She just felt so high. She didn't think even drinking the drinks here would make her feel as good.

Then something unexpected happened, the other Tamers and their partners were dancing. She realized that when she and Frost took a short break to catch their breath. She highly doubted it was for the same reason as she and Frost's, but it made her smile all the more larger. This was what she liked. This was what she wished. Humans and Digimo enjoying themselves with the other, as friends, as family, and, for her, as more. If it wasn't the best night of her life earlier, then it definitely was now. If she were to die tomorrow, with Frost, then she wouldn't have any regrets.

She was about to continue her dance with Frost until she heqrd someone shout,

"Get out of here!"

She turned her head to the source and saw him throw something--a mug, she presumed--at them. It missed terribly, by several feet in fact.

The Digimon continued, "This is the problem. F'you just kept your whatevers goin' behind closed doors then no one'd care about humans. Let you do that on yr'own. No one wants to see what ever...this is!"

Her heart nearly hitched in her throat. This was what she feared. If the mere friendship between Digimon and humans was repulsive, how would they react to a human in love with a Digimon? She and, more importantly, Frost would be outcasted from everywhere. But she had to remind herself they didn't know. They wouldn't strike them down right then and there. She had to calm down. It wouldn't help.

"In fact, why don't we help you along," an Olegmon said as he went their way, likely to "guide" them out.

She put up a calm yet determined face. She walked up to the male, knowing Frost was right by her from the sound of his footsteps. She stopped right before him, but about several feet though, just in case he stumbled forward from being drunk. She stood there tall and sure, even when the Olegmon was much taller than her and Frost.

It was just a mere second, she examined the Olegmon. He was drunk, so there was a high chance of him just outright deciding to punch them. In fact, there would probably be a brawl. She contemplated on her next move. She placed her hands behind her back, one hand holding her Digivice and readying it. He was a Mega, so she and Frost were going to have to Biomerge to stand a chance. She tapped her Digivice. She knew Frost saw it as he let a deep breath out. She was ready to take a hit then Biomerge and attack.

She said, "Excuse me, but why do you want us out?"

She knew the question was pointless, but she wanted to be sure anyway.
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God of Monsters
"'Cus we're all gonna die because o'you," the Callismon snarled, clutching another drink in his clawed fist. He pointed a free claw at Shula and her partner. "And why, cus you can't keep it in y'r pants?" he slurred angrily.

"C'mon, Varg, let's get outta here," the GrandisKuwagamon muttered, jabbing his elbow into his comrade's arm. "I ain't about to fight the damn Royal Knights hung over."

"Wouldn't have to fight the Knights at all if it w'urnt for them, Khep" the Callismon, Varg, growled. "Could've been given n'other mission for that stupid pard'n. ‘Stead we get killed."

"It's not our fault you're a bunch of criminals," shouted another Tamer; the young man with a Dracmon partner. "What you do, start too many drunken bar fights?"

"Hey, soft-skin, don't talk about things you wouldn't understand," Khep hissed, clinking his pincers angrily. "You're coddled. Any mistake you make is written off and forgotten. So you trample all over everything. And the minute something pushes back you go running for someone to save you. You don't even think about what it costs them - us!"

"Whole world's goin' t'war over you lot," their Olegmon boss grumbled, glowering down at Shula. "And ya'dun have the decency to let us drink in peace." He snarled as Frost stepped protectively in front of his partner, and with a speed belied by his bulk and size he grabbed the lizard by his neck and hoisted him up to eye level. "And you. Standing against yer own kind. Like you trust it more than us."

"Let him go!" shouted one of the Tamers.

"Could pop your little lizard skull like a grape," the Olegmon growled. "Could crush the lot of ya' where you stand. And I'm s'pposed to think yer gonna stand ‘gainst the Knights?" He tilted Frost back and forth, analyzing him through his drunken haze. "Nuthin' special ‘bout ya." He one-handed tossed Frost violently across the room and into a liquor shelf, which collapsed on top of the small lizard with a heavy crash.

"That was a little harsh, Dagasson," Khep said, frowning at his Olegmon boss.

"Shut it, one-eye," Dagasson snarled. "Anyone else got somethin' t'say?"
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The Reforged Soul
"Try not to get killed tomorrow, eh? I'd like very much to say 'I told you so.'"

Theo gave the apparent god a steady look, but said nothing. Saying anything else wouldn’t have accomplished anything. While he may have appeared so, the older dragon was not naive. Some Tamers and their Partners would rise to the occasion. Others would be lost. A difficult lesson to accept in war.

However, what bothered Theo more, was that the Council was immediately sending them out to attack the Knights. No time given to train as a unit or developing methods to utilize each individual’s strengths to the greatest effect. This was why the Knight’s Army was such an immense force, combined with the power of the Royal Knights themselves.

More lives than necessary would be wasted come morning.

Slurred outraged voices and the shattering of glass broke out in the center of the tavern, halting all activities. Theo’s eyes narrowed dangerously when two fiercely drunk and angry digimon targeted the Tamers. The volatile exchange was heating up in a dangerous direction.

“There’s a reason I don’t drink before battle anymore,” Theo muttered with a sigh, rising from his seat. Pulling himself up with a groan, the old dragon quietly made his way towards the commotion.

Theo spurred his pace the moment the Olegmon grabbed the BlackAgumon around the neck and lobbed into the liquor rack.

"Anyone else got somethin' t'say?"

He came from the side slamming a bare-fisted claw into the small unprotected portion of the Olegmon’s face. The pirate clawed at his face in pain.

“Lesson 1: Never ask, you don’t what kind of answer you’ll get.”

A roaring snarl approached from the right, Theo stepped back and ducked beneath the wild swing of the charging Callismon. Crouching, the armored dragon thrusted his leg out, smashing his foot into the side of the Callismon’s knee, topping the large bear mon.

“Lesson 2: Drunk and oversized, take out their support. They go down much faster.” Theo said with short words to the gaping Tamers. No amount of time would fully prepare the Tamers for the Royal Knights. But any lesson, crude as it was, might help their dismissal chances.

“Lass, isn’t there something you should be doing?” Theo addressed the tall female, Shula, tilting his armored head towards her fallen Partner, not taking his eyes off the sprawling idiots.

Things weren’t looking good. The Olegmon and Callismon may be outrageous drunk and uncoordinated, but he’d only blindsided them temporarily. And he’d yet see what their third companion would attempted.

Theo only hoped he didn’t have to resort using his special attacks. He'd hate to burn the tavern down by accident.
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Tis the Hour to Reload
Shula Hernandez & Tyfrigo "Frost" Rex
Digimon form: BlackAgumon -> Machinedramon
Axis Mundi Pub

She listened to what they said. She was a bit surprised on how coherent they were, unless they weren't as drunk as she thought. She didn't show it, but she felt a little bad, and fearful. Did he know? No, of course not, she reminded herself. But as the Digimon talked, it quickly changed to sympathy. These Digimon decided to fight the Royal Knights, nobody was forcing them. They could've easily said no to the request, but instead, they accepted. But that didn't stop the fear of dying and it was all because of them, the humans, the Tamers. They started it all. What's more, they were drunk. That didn't help matters.

"Well, you could've just said no," she said, her face still looking calm. She highly doubted they heard, but she said it anyway. And she had a feeling she was going to get smacked.

She was wrong, as the Olegmon grabbed Frost--who she didn't realize stepped in front of her--was grabbed by the neck and held to the golden Digimon's eye level. She froze, and her face showed it. Her heart thumped in her chest as she looked on fearfully. She heard someone shout something, but she didn't catch it. All her attention was on Frost and the Olegmon as the latter was apparently examining him. It felt like hours as he did that, and it was agonizing.

Then the Olegmon said, "Nuthin' special 'bout you," before he tossed Frost across the pub and right to a liquor shelf.

She didn't expect what happened next was to happen, or to happen very fast. A BlackWargreymon came up a sucker punched the Olegmon then tripped up the Callismon. He was also talking about lessons, but she didn't pay much attention to that. She already knew those, and she was dazed from the suddenness of his appearance. Then he spoke to her.

“Lass, isn’t there something you should be doing?”

As soon as he said that, she turned and ran to Frost.Her speed was impressive, considering she was human. She easily made it over the counter by climbing a chair, jumped from it, onto the counter, then drop down from there. She went to Frost's side. She moved all the various bottles and wood, worry sketched all over her face. She didn't notice if there was anyone else behind the bar helping her, or anything the bartenders or the baristas might've said, she continued to focus on Frost.

Shula got rid of the last bottle that was on him, and said, "Frost. Frost. Can you hear me?"

Please be okay, repeated in her head again and again. She really wished she knew more on first-aid for Digimon, but they hadn't met many healers, and most of them said that she couldn't do much in helping. She knew Frost has gone through worse, but that still didn't lessen how much seeing the cuts and bruises on Frost hurt.

Frost groaned and sat up. "Yes, I can."

Shula placed a hand behind him for support. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," he said. "It's mere scratches." He looked to her. "And you know very well I've had worse."

She sighed in relief. That was a good sign. If he could still reprimend her throuh them, then he was fine. She quickly turned her head in the direction of the BlackWargreymon. Though she couldn't see him thanks to the counter, and him with her, she couldn't help herself from looking in that direction. Frost knew what she was thinking. She was figuring out what she could do without Frost's help. He also knew that look in her eyes. She wanted to help someone.

"You want to go help?"

She sighed but didn't answer. She just helped Frost as he stood up and steadied himself. He knew that was a yes, but her determination were making her at least stand up for herself, to show the Olegmon what she could do. But that wasn't why there were Tamers and Digimon. If humans could face Digimon by themselves, they wouldn'tbe partnered with one. Their strength lies in their bonds with others. They were social creatures. Frost saw that as Shula interacted with other humans. She always liked the company and they were strong together.He had to remind her of that.

"Then shall we?" he said.

She looked at him with her worry returning to her face. "Frost. But you're hurt and--"

"We're partners." He reached up to Shula's hand and held it. "And we do things together. Isn't that what you keep telling me?"

She stared at him for a few moment. He might've said his usual chatise but it was only because he knew this wasn't like her. He knew her faith in their bond, and he knew how much she cared about him. She did confess her love to him minutes ago. If they were going to be like that, they were going to do things together. Together...the thought made her feel calm and warm. How did the saying go again? United we stand, divided we fall. There many things that needed help from another, and if there was one thing humans treasured was their partner, and she had hers. She tightened her grip on Frost's slightly and smiled.

"Yeah, you're right." She let go of Frost's hand, still not paying attention to any staff that might be trying to talk to them. "Let's show them what happens when they mess with us."

Frost smiled. She was back.

"Come on, let's go!"

She and Frost climbed up then counter by using the shelves that held glasses and mugs. Once they were on the other side, they walked a few feet then Shula held up her Digivice, a determined expression on her face.

She tapped a button on her Digivce then shouted, "Biomerge activate!"

She stood still and bright orb of light surrounded them.


Then, as quickly as the light appeared, it was gone. Shula and Frost were gone. Instead, a hulking mechanical form stood there. Metal grey and black, with two big cannons on its back. A Machinedramon. The steel dragon stood there for a moment and then it did something, as plain as it seemed, shouldn't have been possible for its kind. It opened its eyes, eyes that shouldn't have been there, and yet, they were. It could think. It had a mind. It had a soul. Their soul. Shula and Frost were one, and in those eyes, their determination was clear.

They rushed forward, many the patrons of the bar getting out of the way. They reared their right arm and then struck the GrandisKuwagamon from behind. The bug didn't expect the sudden and stumbled forward, but he wasn't out. They weren't surprised. They just needed to push him a bit away from the BlackWargreymon.


God of Monsters
Khep tumbled across the floor before flaring his wings and skidding to a stop. He growled angrily. "Ok. That was uncalled for. The hell did I do?" Across from him stood the Machinedramon fusion. Big - of course - but not the biggest Machinedramon he'd ever seen. Thankfully the bar had high ceilings for its larger patrons.

Dagasson had recovered from the BlackWarGreymon's cheap-shot. The hell was it with these people and sucker punches? And always with the lectures.

"Self-righteous pricks," he muttered as Dagasson floored the black dragon with a massive haymaker. He could talk battlefield strategy all he wanted, but Khep had never seen anyone out-brawl the Olegmon in a bar. Dagasson grabbed two heavy oak tables - one in either hand - and slammed the BlackWarGreymon between them.

Case in point.

"You burn down this bar and my boss will literally kill you!" the little Lekismon bartender shouted over the commotion.

Khep winced. Didn't want that; this was his favorite place in lower Axis Mundi. And she was terrifying. But, hell, considering how much she liked to fight with her customers...

Breaking a few things was probably fine.

He dropped low and zipped towards the Machinedramon. He dodged the heavy and telegraphed swings of the metal dragon's claws and landed his own blows to his - her? Its? He had no clue how human genders worked. Did they even have them? - face. He pushed the dragon back, allowing Varg and Dagasson to deliver their own brand of probably-over-the-top-but-totally-not-his-problem retribution to the sucker-punching BlackWarGreymon.

Their assault sent the dope sailing across the bar and into a seated Apollomon.


A sudden impact lurched Svarog from his chair and spilled half his drink over the counter. He growled low at the -- the same BlackWarGreymon? The growl turned into a snarl, turned into a roar. He downed his drink, slammed down the glass and turned. Only then did he actually notice the barroom brawl happening not ten feet from him. He glanced as the BlackWarGreymon hauled himself to his feet beside him.

"Finally, eh? Took everyone long enough," Svarog smirked. He glanced at the dragon from the corner of his eye, then spun around and cracked him across the face with a vicious right hook. "I've been looking for a fight all night!" He took off and floored the Olegmon with a flying knee-strike and buried his fist in the digimon's gut.


"He hated flowers," Thor muttered, staring at the Wisemon's display. "They took work to grow and maintain. All that time spent preening. All that time 'wasted' he said. There was so much else to do in the world without doing what nature itself provided. We were warriors. Above all things we were warriors first."

He shook his head. "Sorry." He hadn't meant to disrespect her imaginings, or her work. But there, in the Council's temple, everything reminded him of his father.

"It was a nice display," he admitted with a sigh, before turning to her. "But those of you who can should learn to live beyond the reach of Odin's shadow...for those of us who cannot."


The Reforged Soul
Theo had bitten off a bit more than he could chew as the Olegmon returned the favor with a punch that slammed him skidding into the floor. He might have simplied walked out of the tavern after the conversation with the Apollomon, but the activelly growing tension against the Tamers and their Partners made him snapped. And now he was paying for his actions as two large wooden tables collided with his rising armored form. The battering left him stunned and staggering to his knees.

A fierce shout from a familar voice registered in his foggy mind, "You burn down this bar and my boss will literally kill you!" Duly, noted. Good thing Asher wasn’t here, Theo numbly thought.

Theo had almost managed to pick himself off the floor once again, when a hard-shelled rammed into his side. The BlackWarGreymon stumbled forward and barely managed to bring up his guantlets into a defensive posture to guard against the raging onslaught from the Callismon and Olegmon. The battering was jarring but he was better prepared to weather it until he found an opportunity to break free. A solid hit from the Olegmon sent him sailing back towards the bar with a slightly softer landing than he expecting. Slightly.

The old soldier didn’t have time to see who he’d collided, because the moment he pulled himself to his claw feet and tried shaking the dizziness away, a yellow fist soared in his periphal vision. The blow sent him crashing over the top of the bar and behind it. Theo laided there prone for a minute.

“Pretty good show, do you always let them beat you up first?” An older teenaged male glanced from his lounging position on the bar’s surface, a smirking grin graced his tan face.

“Shut up, Brat,” Theo muttered, not inthe mood for Kyle’s wisecracks. He painfully rolled himself onto his front and stiffly pushed up on achy limbs. “Stay out of the way or make youself useful for a change.”

“Sorry, Theo, I wish I could,” Kyle apologized with a sad smile. A spike of pain, worst than the pummeling he just received, sang through his digicore. He wiped away the trickle of blood and single tear away from the corner of his mouth. His partner’s figment faded, leaving the air above the bar empty.

The BlackWarGreymon planted his musclar arms on the bar top and propelled himself over it. Building up momentum in a charge, he body slammed the Callismon, driving his left elbow into its stomach. With a roar of effort, he grabbed and lifted the mammoth grizzly over his head, before tossing the Callismon indiscrimately across the bar and pulverising several tables and chairs in the process.


"He hated flowers," Thor muttered, staring at the Wisemon's display. "They took work to grow and maintain. All that time spent preening. All that time 'wasted' he said. There was so much else to do in the world without doing what nature itself provided. We were warriors. Above all things we were warriors first."

“I can understand the sentiment,” Tessa chuckled, remembering her disasterous attempts at gardening, “I could never grow anything, except herbs.”

The wisemon tilted her head slightly intrigued at the Imperialdramon, following his gaze to the flower-covered relief. The cogs in her head slowly turned as the clues and tidbits of information fell into place. A surge of giddiness plagued her with a plethora of questions if her educational guess about her company was correct. A yawn startled the young Wisemon, the lateness of the night combined with the effort of building her father’s memory left her quite tired. Her curiousity could hold off for once.

"It was a nice display.”

“Thank you,” she said shyly, not accustomed to digimon complimenting the work she spent years studying.

He turned to her. "But those of you who can should learn to live beyond the reach of Odin's shadow...for those of us who cannot."

She shared a confused look with him and said more boldy, “I left my wooded home to explore Saga myself and not through my father’s books. I may visit places from his original journey, but perhaps I will see them in a different light, for I am child of two worlds.”

Tessa blushed in embarassment under her hood, “Sorry, Wisemon trait, we say sagely sounding things without meaning too alot.”

“I’ll endeavor to learn what I can of our world from our past, for our future.” Tessa promised to the Imperialdramon.


God of Monsters
Thor said nothing. He just let the silence hang in the air, suddenly aware of the distance between him and the Wisemon, wondering if she was as aware of it as he was, and at the same time feeling the same distance between himself and the idea of his father. It was odd: witnessing on one side the mortality of the Wisemon, while witnessing on the other sublime transcendence of his father. And he was lost somewhere in the middle, less real than either of them. Less than a dream. Barely a wisp lingering between the corporeal and the ideal.

He was about to say something more when a low boom rang out and shook the city below the temple. A wailing siren split the night’s stillness, and Thor felt that inexplicable pull, that call to action. He spread his sleek red wings, bent his knees, and took off into the sky. Once he cleared the temple’s high walls he could make out the commotion below. Smoke billowed from one of the streets, fire speckled rooftops, and at the center of it, a brawl.


The fighting had spilled out into the streets, and Svarog was directing traffic. It was insanity, a flurry of fiery fists and hard strikes. The combatants - now half the bar - crashed against one another, with the war god at the center of it all. Svarog lived for this; this kind of battle and fighting. This was revelry. This was the way to start a war. Let the drunkards and the bleeding hearts and the soft-skins fight. Let them crash against him and fail. Let them see just how insignificant they were. Let them bear witness to his power.

It was a warmup for the real fight.

Svarog struck hard, his fist snapping the Machinedramon’s head to the side with sudden ferocity. The blow rocked the dragon off its feet and rolled it into Theo. They would know what it meant to be a god of war. His next blow struck the Callismon and sent it tumbling back into the GrandisKuwagamon. The Olegmon - Dagasson, he’d heard him called - stepped forward and unleashed the shadowy spirit from its shoulder weapons. Svarog answered in kind, and sent fire upon fire to meet his opponent’s attack.

The resulting explosion rocked the entire city. Perhaps he was getting a little carried away.

“What the hell?” the GrandisKuwagamon snarled, pushing himself up from the ground and shaking away the debris. “Who the **** are you fighting for? Whose side are you on?”

“My own,” Svarog declared loudly, for them all to hear. He prepared to fight on, but a low rumble stopped him in his tracks. He sensed the change in the air, the heaviness, the pressure surging in. The sky groaned, heavy with thunder rolling in over the mountaintops.

Svarog turned his gaze skyward to the dark shape at the center of the clouds. A flash of crimson wings, and it streaked through the air like red lightning. Thor.

The Imperialdramon banked sharply and swept over the ground. Svarog grinned wildly, teeth bared. Thor folded his wings and let his momentum carry him into a run, fist drawn back. Svarog met him head on. Two steps in, and they collided. Fists slammed together, knuckles crunching under the force of the crash. A wave of force and godly energy rolled out from the impact, shattering windows two blocks over.

But it barely slowed them down.

Thor threw an elbow into Svarog's throat, but the war god recovered quickly and slammed both fists into the sides of Thor's head. It left the Asgardian reeling. Svarog pressed his advantage, driving his forehead into the bridge of Thor's nose and throwing him back with a heavy haymaker. Thor fought through the strike and recovered. He surged forward, blocking Svarog's spinning kick and driving his fist into fiery god's gut.

Svarog tumbled back and skid to a stop, fire already billowing white-hot around his hands and swirling around his arms. Thor brought his hand up and materialized the positron cannon on his forearm, energy pooled in its mouth. Svarog grinned. Thor frowned.

Everyone else ran for cover.

Then Svarog took off into the sky, trailing fire behind him. Thor followed a split-second later. And it was there, hundreds of feet off the ground that they unleashed their attacks and ignited the sky over Axis Mundi.

"Not bad for a spoiled brat," Svarog growled his...approval as the two remained hovering in the sky. "I'd heard Asgardians were strong. But if you're the best, then -"

"What was that?" Thor demanded, a snarl etched onto his features.

"A good fight."

"And what does that prove?"

"Not all of us feel the need to prove something, Odinson," Svarog sneered. He flexed his fists and shook out the stiffness from the fight. Despite his earlier remarks and jabs, the Asgardian was no pushover. "Some of us are just looking for the next good fight."

Thor frowned and lowered to the ground. Svarog rolled his eyes; always so serious, these Asgardians. But he followed nonetheless.

"Is anyone hurt?" Thor asked, addressing the participants and witnesses of the fighting.

"My boss is gonna be pissed," the bartender shouted from the other side of a shattered window. "Her roof is on fire. When she gets back-"

"She can speak with me," Thor cut in, raising a hand to stop her.

"Or me," Svarog said, smirking. "Since I'm the one responsible. You can tell her that and see which of us she wants to speak with more: the god who did it, or the god who wants to talk."

"This accomplishes nothing," Thor insisted quietly, yet his voice split the air like the whip of a sharp wind.

"It's accomplished everything I want," Svarog shot back. "Some of us are just looking for a good fight." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the rest of the tamers and digimon behind him. "And maybe some of them understand what they're getting into."


Tis the Hour to Reload
Shula Hernandez & Tyfrigo "Frost" Rex
Biomerged Machinedramon
Axis Mundi Pub

They frowned as they took another hit from the insect. Dang it! Shula thought. Her inexperience was hindering Frost and thus both of them. Each swing she tried to land was easily dodged by the Mega, and they were taking many hits. It didn't help that the bear decided to come and gang up on them. They knew why, it was very clear when they heard the sound of a body crashing into wood. They flinched at that but they knew they had other things to focus on, as tempting as it was for her to check up on the kind dragon, she knew they'd be helping better if they stopped these 'mons so they won't cause more trouble.

But what were they going to do? Their swings were obviously telegraphed to them, as they avoided each of them. They growled as they took another hit. It wasn't much actually, or rather it didn't affect her much despite the strength they put in it. She was thankful that their body was rather strong, and that she was used to getting hit as well. But that wasn't going to be much if she couldn't have them land an attack. She was very tempted to fire their guns, but from the shout of one of the bartenders earlier, and all of those inside the place, she knew that wasn't an option.

They tried to hit the GrandisKuwagamon again after he landed another attack. In their peripheral vision, she could see the black dragon had sent the big bear Digimon onto a table. They gritted their teeth, but then an idea popped up in her thoughts. Frost quickly agreed with it. They huffed and then took another punch from their opponent, but instead of trying to swing...they opened their mouth and clamped it on the Mega.

Their enemy hadn't expected that and struggled under her bite. Before he could break free they readied their left claw and mumbled, "Booster...claw!"

They let go and struck the GrandisKuwagamon. At that moment, their head was struck from the side. The force nearly broke their neck if it weren't for their collar and wires. It made them crash right on top of someone. Their head spun and their senses were scrambled. They could vaguely make out some voice saying something about fighting on their own side before the sounds of fists and attacks were whizzing behind them. She had the feeling it was the rest of the bar joining in on the fight. Frost thought the same.

They groaned and held their head. They shook it then stood and looked to see who they collided with. Their eyes widen as Shula recognized who it was.

"Agh! Dang it. Are you all right?" they said, the voice, though mostly androgynous, leaned more to feminine for that sentence.

They helped him up, placing their right hand on his back for support. Shula didn't hear his reply, but Frost did, as she had their head turn at the feeling of energy pass through their body. They saw a Fighter Mode Imperialdramon had started to fight the Apollomon. They blinked as the two fought. This was when they realized that the dragon was Thor, and he was on even grounds with the Apollomon. That made Shula jump to this conclusion: he was a god like the Imperialdramon. Frost thought the conclusion was premature but their attention was shifted to overdrive when Thor had his arm turned into a cannon, and the Apollomon looked rearing to go.

As soon as they shot up and into the sky, on instinct, they moved to the nearest Digimon, Tamers and their partners, and used their body as a cover for them. They felt the energy--the power--of the colliding attacks on their back. It was a few moments, but they eventually felt it fade away. They moved away from the ones they guarded and saw that most of them consisted of Tamers and their partners. One was a young man and a Dracmon was near him, looking at her a bit defensively.

Shula didn't blame it. She knew the feeling. So did Frost.

They turned around at the sound of feet landing. They saw both weren't fighting anymore. Thor asked if anyone was hurt. The bartender immediately retorted with anger, and that her boss was going to be veryangry. They blinked and looked around. A lot of the place was trashed, and the roof was broken. Whether from the flight earlier or from the various attacks from half the patrons--which they guessed when they saw about that much gathering their bearings--they didn't know. Neither she nor Frost was sure if Thor heard them, but they said answered anyway.

"Other than those who were fighting? No." They gave another brief scan--literally and figuratively--across the bar then looked back at the thunder god. Then they said, this time more on the masculine side, "I believe the rest are merely shaken."

They narrowed their eyes at the Apollomon's words. Shula was the one who was mostly sending the daggers at him. She was very, very, very, ticked off with him. Sure, it was clear it was his nature for wanting a good fight and, normally, she wouldn't mind, but he didn't need to bring the rest of the bar into it. She was very close to shouting at him...and punching him straight in the face. She knew that she would regret it quickly but it would feel so good. Frost was quick to remind her she would be of more help if she wasn't beaten, especially for what they were to do the next day. Their body sighed. That was all she needed.

But she still wanted to say something to the last thing the fire Digimon said, especially after what that Olegmon said.

Frost tried to stop her but he didn't exactly not want to say his own choice words.

"I know very well what I've--what we've--gotten into," their body said, the voice back to being more feminine with only slight traces of masculine. It returned to being androgynous as they continued. "We know very well we could die and we've accepted that. At least we would die fighting for a cause."

She was happy Frost agreed with every word she said. She didn't care what the fire lion would think of their words. She already decided that she didn't like him, and Frost was equally happy with that. ...Though, if he showed he wasn't that bad, she'd give him a chance. She mentally giggled at Frost's internal sigh. Letting a small spark of hope reside in you, as always, she heard him say in her head. I wouldn't be me if I didn't do that, now would I? Frost resigned. She giggled within their shared mindspace again.

Their body turned around, ignoring whatever the Apollomon might've said. Frost asked Shula if she wanted to disengage their biomerge. No, she told him. Just in case HOT head decides to start another fight. Frost sighed in defeat at the pun. They decided to help with all those in the bar, even the three that led to all this in the first place (she wasn't surprised when they looked at them like they were nuts), and also help the bartenders clean up. The place was a complete mess and they did participate in the fight, so Shula thought it was right to help. Besides,*it was the next best thing to get rid of her annoyance towards the Apollomon, without making things worse. Frost reminded her she needed rest. Shula said she will, as soon as she helped them.


God of Monsters
Axis Mundi
Temple of the High Council
The Next Morning...

"Do you realize what you've done, Svarog?" Purphoros glowered. The Vulcanusmon glared down at Svarog from his spot at the staging ground for the Council's assault. The other members of the Council stood on either side of him, with their respective groups stationed in the courtyard below. "Starting a fight? On the eve of this deciding battle? Did you have nothing better to do? Do you have any idea the kind of damage you might have caused?"

"Look at you," Svarog scoffed dismissively. "A forge god agonizing over a little brushfire. What a pitiful sight."

"And you, Thor?" Ephara asked, glaring pointedly at the Asgardian prince. "Will you at least offer an excuse?"

"Svarog was looking for a fight. I gave him one to settle his appetite," Thor answered, arms crossed over his chest. He glared at Svarog out of the corner of his eye. He didn't like being scolded.

Svarog belly-laughed. "You think that little jaunt was enough to satisfy me, do you?" He grinned wildly, all but ignoring the Council. Thor envied that freedom. "That was barely enough to whet my appetite. Today you'll see what I can truly do."

"Enough," Ephara scolded them both. "Were times not so desperate, Svarog, and were it not for your pedigree-"

"I've earned everything I am," Svarog cut in, the fires around his body flaring angrily. "You gods who sit on high and rule from your lofty towers do not get to speak to me of pedigree."

"Can we wrap this up?" Loki asked. He stood off to the side by Phenax looking decidedly bored with the whole affair. "I'm sure some of you find this new and novel, dealing with my brother's outbursts and misdemeanors, but I am well beyond that stage. And I was under the impression that time was an issue here."

Ephara said nothing. She gave Thor and Svarog one last glance before nodding to the rest of the Council and stepping forward to address the Council's forces.

"Final preparations are being made," she announced. Outside the courtyard a multitude of battleships were touching down and the Council's soldiers were being ushered inside. Even the flight-capable Digimon were sequestered in the ships to encourage them to save their strength for the fighting.

"The flight to Camelot will take roughly an hour at top speed. Once we arrive we'll send the call for the Knights' surrender," Karametra announced. "I have no doubt that they will refuse. From there, all flight-capable fighters will disembark and meet whatever first wave the Royal Knights send from their soldiers still stationed at Camelot. The ships will then land, allowing the rest of you to make your way towards the castle."

Thor followed the crowd into the ship, Svarog walking beside him with a growl and a curse in some ancient language Thor didn't recognize. Despite their conflict the night before, Thor found Svarog an easy presence to be around. The war god wasn't conniving or underhanded. He was rough and brutish and straightforward. And he was honest. Infuriating, but honest.

During the flight, Thor found an empty corner of the ship and fought to quiet his mind amidst the roar and bustle of a hundred-plus digimon and a handful of human tamers crowded into a flying ship. It wasn't easy. And to his surprise he saw that Svarog had found the same corner. Except while Thor had fought to quiet his mind, he could sense the anticipation and eagerness radiating from his fellow immortal. It was...calming...in a way - to witness that kind of confidence and self-assured certainty. Svarog knew, without a doubt, who and what he was. He was certain of every move he made and every word he spoke.

Thor envied him.


Fortress Camelot
Island of Avalon
The Independent Nation of Logress

"We've arrived," Karametra's voice broke over the ship's intercom. "The Knights have declined our offer of surrender. Those of you who can fly, prepare for midair deployment. All others prepare for ground assault. Tamers. Suit up."

Svarog shot to his feet, his fiery hair bristling. Thor climbed up more slowly, already feeling the weight of the battle coming to bear. The airship slowed and hatches along the rear and sides opened. Wind and sky whipped into the ship’s interior, and everyone with wings or jets moved into it. Amidst the crowd, the lights of Digivolution - both biomerge and not - sparked, signaling the Tamer’s introduction to the battle.

Svarog leapt from the ship, igniting and streaking through the air towards the front of the line. Thor dropped easily from the cargo bay, freefalling until he was just over the ocean. Then he flared his wings with a snap, caught the updrafts, and powered into the sky.

The Council’s warriors leapt from the ship, swooping into the air and banking towards the mainland. There was some confusion as they jostled for position in the crowded space around the three ships sent to Camelot, but as the ships lowered to the coastline the air cleared and a rough formation came together.

Karametra and Kruphix led the charge through the sky. Just behind them was the Slayerdramon - Drakn Stormheart - who they’d tasked with leading the Council’s warriors. But by the time those warriors had assembled into any sort of organized formation behind Stormheart, the soldiers of the Royal Knights were already in defensive positions and flying out to meet them.

Dragons filled the skies, Wingdramon, AeroVeedramon, and HisyaRumon. On the ground, troops of Knightmon, Mistymon, and Grademon marched from the fortress. Other Ultimate digimon filled the gaps in the ranks and a smattering of other Mega and Champion level dragons, warriors, and birds accompanied them.

There was a reason the Royal Knights were the most powerful military force in the world.

And they flew at the head of the column: Sir Guinier, Sir Caradoc, Sir Bedivere, while Sir Gareth led the ground-based troops to secure the beach against the Council’s forces. Guinier was the fastest, and the first to reach the Council members, zipping past her comrades with a final push. Kruphix intercepted with a burst of speed and they clashed in the sky. Bedivere struck next, powering forward and slamming into Karametra. Caradoc tore forward past the fighting, ripping into the mass of warriors, sending fountains of dragonfire searing into the Council's fighters.

The nearest of the Council's soldiers were atomized - more by the sheer force of Caradoc's anger than the fire itself. Those beyond them were thrown from the sky and from their higher evolution forms. Caradoc ripped into them, a hurricane of fury and power. In their disarray, the Council's soldiers clambered over one another; some attempting to get away from the Royal Knight while others fought to make their way towards him.

Caradoc took advantage of this disorganization and shot higher into the sky. Those eager to engage chased after him. But Caradoc was fast, much faster than most of them, and they were little more than dogs snapping at his heels. The Dynasmon reached the zenith of his flight and spun around, palms facing down.

"Dragon Thrower!" he roared. Power flared from his hands, twisting and coiling, thundering down towards the Council's soldiers.

And then all of them were retreating, fleeing out and down and away. But Caradoc's attack was massive and swift, and it slammed into them before they could make it too far. The Royal Knight stood, watching the smoke clear and the waves beneath settle. He watched with grim satisfaction as the Council's warriors scattered like ants.

Except one. A lone Imperialdramon withstood the blast, arms crossed across his face, wings spread wide to brace himself against the onslaught.

"Odinson," Caradoc growled. They'd warned the little god what would come of his defiance. "So be it." Caradoc folded his wings and dropped into freefall, diving fist-first towards the Asgardian. Thor spread his wings and with a mighty flap, powered up into the sky to meet the Royal Knight.
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