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How Myotismon Saved Christmas (Digimon/PMMM)

The thing is, using more power could also backfire. I'll switch to snark, I suppose.
 
It totally could, but we don't have many other options that are truly viable.

Using the energy of the dark Area can fuck us over and using a Dark Schockwave is just going to be a rehash of what we've been doing which is not working.

Daemon is getting stronger and stronger, so we need to end this as fast as we can, meaning that we can't hold back anymore, even if it kills us, so long as we can use that power to kill him.
 
The battle was still too close; even with all your power, you could still only match him in terms of strength. Even then, you weren't sure if he was mocking you or not. Worse, every second that ticked by made him stronger, you didn't want to fall to his hand again, so therefore there was only one thing to do.

Reaching for the brimming core of your strength; you undid a barrier and let loose a flood of new strength. Your muscles burned, and you felt a new wave of energy. You began to rise into the air again, focusing your mind as you had before.

Daemon thinks that he can hide, does he? Perhaps I will have to show him the folly of his ways.

Sensing Daemon was as easy as before; he was a great, churning vortex of shadow, which seemed to reach for miles around you. Surprisingly, your own presence was not unlike his; but where he was a single colour, your vortex had the ''feel'' of a night sky. Dark, but speckled with stars, You felt the world around you envelop your mind; and honed your will like the sharpest blade.

The vortex spun with his thoughts and emotions; pulling on the ambient power of the Dark Area like a leech. At least you knew now he wasn't bragging – he really was getting stronger. However....

A grin touched your features.

Like a true devil, he'd twisted the truth to his own ends. While the Dark Area was refilling his power, that was all. It would not be able to extend his limits beyond what they already were. Merely make him last longer.

Through Loweemon's power, and not a little bit of Myotismon's, you reached out with your mind. The currents of this place were twisted, corrupted intentions flowed across the land like a breeze, and when it rained it did so in tears. The whole Area stunk of good turned bad; of corruption over time, and of the power inherent in that transformation. You would never have been able to sense it as Myotismon, but as ShadowSeraphimon it was all laid out before you like a map. The truth of the Dark Area and all its secrets.

You felt yourself rising; clouds of shadow bore you away as you rose up and up above the skies. The whole Dark Area was below you; and you saw it for the place it truly was. A festering darkness, like vengeance long denied. Just like despair had shaped the Dark Ocean, this place was formed of rage, of betrayal, of deceit...

You felt the powers all across its vast surface; the scatterings of Digimon and the tiny little pulsing minds that wanted to be more. You felt the spirits that rode on the breeze; like Digi-Gnomes but not. Natives to this plain, unlike those Digimonn who had been banished here.

You felt the first inkling of the ability that Daemon had used to shape and control the things around him. It wasn't that Daemon had some unique control, but rather that shadow responded to like, and that his will was fiercely powerful.

Lastly, you felt the chains that bound this place together. Like a puzzle fitted into place so long ago; they were streams of ancient power, held by some forgotten ritual. You followed them, looking for some new power and at their end...

A mind.

A mind so vast and ancient that it dwarfed you, or Daemon or even Lucemon himself. It watched; not just you, but the entire Dark Area and beyond. It was an intellect so cold, and yet the power of its thoughts rung like hammer blows. You felt only a tiny fraction of its might, but even so it was more than you had ever felt before. Not Seraphimon, or Daemon or anyone else had ever felt this way. The power... the age.... It was.... it was like you were face to face with Yggdrasil himself!

Then, like a magnifying glass being slowly brought to bear above a trapped insect; you felt that vast mind turn. You imagined eyes like razors, turning slowly, so slowly to regard you.

Hi.

The shock was enough to send reverberations through your psychic projection and to snap you back to reality. Not even a second had passed during your psychic journey, and you realised you had allowed yourself to drift away. You felt your power pulsing in tune with your panicked thoughts, but with a will of cold steel, you disregarded them all. Forcing fear and anxiety aside, focusing only on the mission. You were an angel, and Daemon was a demon.

There was only one outcome possible. You would slay him.

"Still hiding?" You taunted. "A fitting end to such a worthless existence."

"Then try it!" His voice came again. "You talk and talk and talk! I liked you better as a knight, at least then you knew the meaning of action!"

"I will show you action!" You shouted, and powered up another one of your Shadow Shockwaves; this time you portioned off a lot more of your power, so much in fact that the usually invisible force could be seen as a tiny ball of light in the palm of your hand.

"If you insist on hiding, I will simply destroy everything for miles, Daemon."

So saying, you brought your hand up above your head, and roared.

"Shadow Shockwave! Max power."

What you unleashed was as far apart from its standard low power version as your Grisly Wing attack was from your Strike of the Seven Dark Stars. It was like unleashing a churning void into the world; an eager destroyer which lashed out again and again. Whole feet of ground were ripped up intact as the attack began to gnaw away at everything around you. Your arm was feeling weak, but you ignored it. The Shockwave was the most powerful attack you had unleashed in your life thus far, and it felt almost like an exhilarating triumph.

The mountains which had been to your side collapsed; miles of rock and darkness being flung aside as though a giant had tired of his sand castle; the floor around you was being stripped away, layer by layer and all the loose lying stones had already gone; yet still Daemon managed to evade you.

Where was he? He couldn't hide much, there wasn't anything left! Then... it was a feeling, a sort of half-second vision of a shadow in the corner of your eye. You spun around, the winds faded as you no longer bothered to support them.

There! Caught up in the vortex and thrown along with several tonnes of stone. He was battered into confusion, and you knew that this was your chance.

"Shadow Starburst!"

You impaled him through the chest with your strike; his body crumpled and turned into a pool of darkness before your very eyes. A trap!

Instantly, the shadow you had unleashed was on you. You growled and struggled; its grip was strong but it could find no handhold on your armour to latch onto. A few seconds and you would be free.

A few seconds you might not have; from behind you heard the flutter of wings as Daemon pulled aside whatever illusion he had used to hide himself and flew up high. His chest expanded into that now familiar motion, and you roared.

"Shadow Starburst!"

That made the shadow shriek in pain as it was ripped to shreds, and you were able to leap out of the way and take to the air just as the massive plume of flame touched down on where you had been. It was the hottest you had felt yet, and you watched whole swathes of ground simply obliterated where it touched.

Then it turned on you again; you beat your wings furiously and rose above it, but the heat was still enough that you felt your armour begin to drip. He wielded it like a lance; twisting and turning to try and catch you in the flickering fires. You for your part darted and wove, but it was close. You were almost too slow several times, and once it passed over you though only briefly. The pain you had felt then was so intense that you wondered if you were being torn limb from limb one more time.

As you skimmed above the surface of the flame, projections were created to trap and drag you in. Hands, or tentacles or wings. These, you evaded or destroyed as needed.

You managed to clear some space, and use your Dark Stars to detonate in the heart of the fire; the resulting shockwave smashed you into the ground again, and sent Daemon whirling. He recovered first, and speared down at you with a cry.

His blow landed with enough force that cracks spread out from the ground zero; and you felt your body sinking into a crater alongside the explosion of pain. You saw his leering face before he struck again and again. Driving himself into a fury as chips of armour flew through the air.

Despite the pain, you managed to get your legs up and kicked him hard in the gut. He gulped and was sent rolling away, but rose again almost as soon as he had touched down. You had barely managed to get to your feet when he lanced a spear of shadow into your shoulder. You groaned in pain as blood stained your green armour. Before you sank to your knees, he was there with a blow to the face!

You were reeling; your body aflame, your shoulder burned with the same kind of curse he had tried before, but far stronger. You felt its malevolent mind ripping into your very being; sowing chaos and discord to disrupt your power.

You saw him taking another breath to flame; and knew that you would never avoid it. Panic made your mind faster, and you remembered a Magical Girl you had met what seemed like centuries ago. She'd wielded chains as weapons, so why not you too?

You gestured with your free hand; and intoned.

"Chains of Descent."

With a rattle of metal, a dozen serpentine shapes burst from the scorched, cracked ground. Daemon sensed their power at once, and aborted his attack. A knife of darkness scythed through them all before they could close.

"Seals? Is that the way you want to deal with me cousin?"

A blast of air from your wings, and you were closing in on him. Shadow Starburst rippled across your armour.,

"I am no cousin of yours!"

He parried your blow, but it was a mistake. The surge of power fried his arm even as the force fractured it in a dozen places. His face showed no sign of pain though, and he let then limp limb drop away and kicked at your chest. You spun along the ground, ignored the pain this brought and called your next attack.

"Strike of the Seven Dark Stars!"

Daemon's form flickered and vanished just as they would have hit him, and in the distance a mountain was utterly obliterated. Daemon appeared from your shadow, lunging towards you with a feral grin. He was met by a blast of darkness from your hand, and missed. As he leapt past, you smashed an elbow into his back and felt the crack of breaking bone.

He plodded to a stop some metres away; you saw dark blood dripping from his maw. His right arm hung by his side, and his back was bent at a painful angle that seemed impossible to maintain. Yet he did not even slow. He turned to regard you.

"You're right." He spat. "You're not a cousin! You're a pretender. You cannot be an angel, you fell! There's no coming back! There's no return! You're not a hero!"

He charged again; and his rage made his body glow. Before your eyes, he reached across and ripped his broken arm clean from the socket! The light of madness was in his eyes as he finally reached you and leapt into the air to evade your counterattack. There, he spun around and smashed the heel of his foot into the back of your head.

Seeing stars, you nearly fell but instead turned it into a partial roll and grabbed his scything claw with both your armoued hands.

"You're not a hero." He growled. "You're a monster. You're like me."

There was a sudden stabbing in the shoulder he had wounded; and the pain made you weak. Eyes alight with malice, he brought his single claw down hard. Your one hand wasn't enough; you felt a great force smash into your chest and shards of armour filled the air with blood.

Your hand went to the wound, and found it very deep. Pain exploded from the point of the sudden attack, and you probed it warily. World Computer, is this bone I'm feeling?

"Missed your heart." Daemon chortled. "But not by much! Hope you don't need all that blood!"

You lurched sideways, feeling the world begin to grey out.

No. I can't fall now. I cannot. I am not dead yet! And I refuse to die while I still have a foe to best.

You mustered your power, and drew on extra reserves of energy from the two Spirits powering your form. Lobomon's healing combined with Loweemon's power. Yes, that would do it. The wound clogged, though not healed. You'd deal with it later.

"Damn it!" Daemon howled. "Just die! Diediediedie! This is the second time you should have been destroyed by my blows, why do you still stand?"

"You know why!" You roared, and leapt to meet him again. You launched a blow, but he parried and the shockwave cracked the earth. "Because I have a cause to fight for. Can you say the same?"

"Of course!" He replied, and a new arm burst from the socket of his old. It ripped for your throat, but you caught it with a Starburst and it shrivelled seconds later. "I spread chaos! I bring lies! I father traitors! I create evil!"

"That's a goal, not a cause!" You replied, blasting a powerful kick into his upper chest. He shrieked, but spat a dark orb which burned like fire across your own chest. Especially the wound.

"Then what's the difference between us?" He spat. "If you are so high and mighty, then why can you take that form and not me? WHY?!"

You knew that answer; you had known it since you took on the shape of ShadowSeraphimon. The thing that motivated you, and always had.

"Because I do what I do for a reason. My actions matter, and I cannot allow them to be undone by such as you."

"The words of an angel! You're getting too into the light, it'll tear you apart."

You clashed again, and felt the power of the impact powder the bones all along your front, or so it seemed at least. You blocked a vicious uppercut; took a long gash from a claw, and struck back with a fast to his leering face.

Clutching at his eyes, he staggered away and you took your chance.

"The difference is that you are a ghost Daemon! Why do you do what you do? What cause does it serve? Misery for its own sake is no cause at all, and you don't have anything beyond that do you? You're fuelled by hate alone, and hate cannot survive without support."

You brought your hands together, and intoned your signature attack.

"Strike of the Seven Dark Stars!"

Seven stars flew to strike down their target, and with little space to it, Daemon would not be able to dodge. To his credit, he reacted quickly. He conjured a shadow which split into three, each one rushed at an orb and detonated it. Four more aimed at him, and he spun a shadow whirlwind into existence; and sent it crashing against them. Two more died, but two remained.

You saw his eyes widen as he realised he would not stop them all. Before your gaze, the two caught him at last. One right in the chest, and one in the legs. The explosion could be seen for miles, and the cracks that had been opened during the battle were turned into fully fledged crevices now.

You took to the air as the unstable ground began to quake. A great plume of smoke was rising up from where you had hit him, and you could see nothing save that the attack had burned a giant crater into the ground.

"Like any ghost, in the light you disappear." You finished. You summoned a gust of wind, and blew the smoke away to reveal the fate of your body. You did not expect him to have been totally annihilated, and you were not surprised.

There he lay, in the centre of the crater. Though ''lay'' may have been too graceful a word. His whole body had been burned and boiled by the attack. Twisted stripes of flesh adorned a charred skeleton, wet muscles pulsed and writhed, where any had survived and in places there was nothing left by ash and bone.

He had no long or blood, or even a heart, but his dark power would not allow him to die so easily. You watched as dark pinpricks of blue light stuttered into existence in the sockets of his skull. A gaping maw opened, smoke pouring from what had once been a throat.

"That was unexpected." His voice had a strange, echo quality now. "I have not felt such power since the Royal Knights."

"Still alive?" You scoffed, though inwardly you felt relief. Your whole body was once more, one giant injury, and the wound in your chest demanded urgent attention that you could not put off much longer. It was only due to the power of the Spirits that you had managed to survive it at all, any other Seraphimon would have died there and then once Daemon got serious.

"So..." Daemon spoke. "What now? Do you kill me? Knowing that I will be reborn with all my memoires and power? Or do you leave me in this decrepit state."

Even as you watched, the flesh began to boil and bubble, a dark sheen coming to the bones that had nothing to do with fire.

[]" Your death will not cause a permanent end to your threat." You said. "But it will be some years before you amass your power again." {Kill him}

[] "Look at you. You have nothing left to fight with. I don't need to finish you, I don't even need to talk to you anymore. Its over." {Leave him here}

[]Write In.
 
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noahgab1133 said:
daemon is obviously buying time. we need to end this fast.

[x] "Then I had best destroy you quickly then." You prepared another Shadow Shockwave to blast away any cover.


as for using the spirit of darkness possible certainly if we had the beast spirit but we dont... wait is there a spirit in the dark area???

also if we do somehow manage to beat daemon can we load him?

There is no Spirit in the Dark Area, none of them bar the Spirits of Darkness would find it at all comfortable there, and both of them have places in the Digital World.

As to your second, you can try to load him if you like. No promises.

And to everyone, as a note, I should mention two things before you vote. Firstly, I intentionally left the possibility of a write in which has better results than any of the given options, secondly, one of those options will lead to a bad end.

Have fun!
 
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I am going to say it now. No Loading this fucker, his data is probably corruptive enough that he'll just be reborn in us.

Either killing him or leaving could be a bad end. Killing because if we really want to be sure to kill him, then we only have one attack left. And I'm not sure that ShadowSeraphimon could survive the strain. Leaving him alive is leaving him alive nuff said.

Our best option at this point would be to seal him away. In theory, we have the capability, we know some magic, we have chains that seems to be design to seal people away and we have the powers of two legendary spirits. It's also going to be a ritual, so the strain of doing so is less likely to kill us.

Thus.
[X]''Death is too good for the likes of you, and yet leaving you free to act is too dangerous. There is only one punishment fitting for a ghost like you. {Seal him away in his present state. He won't be able to act and won't be able to recover. All he will be able to do is to watch the world move on while he remains chained by his own mistakes.}
 
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[X]''Death is too good for the likes of you, and yet leaving you free to act is too dangerous. There is only one punishment fitting for a ghost like you. {Seal him away in his present state. He won't be able to act and won't be able to recover. All he will be able to do is to watch the world move on while he remains chained by his own mistakes.}
 
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The supreme consciousness, many eyes...

Grandracmon? Nope, no castle.
Can't be Demon Lords.
Satan himself?

Fanglongmon?

[X]''Death is too good for the likes of you, and yet leaving you free to act is too dangerous. There is only one punishment fitting for a ghost like you. {Seal him away in his present state. He won't be able to act and won't be able to recover. All he will be able to do is to watch the world move on while he remains chained by his own mistakes.}
 
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[X]''Death is too good for the likes of you, and yet leaving you free to act is too dangerous. There is only one punishment fitting for a ghost like you. {Seal him away in his present state. He won't be able to act and won't be able to recover. All he will be able to do is to watch the world move on while he remains chained by his own mistakes.}
 
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[X]''Death is too good for the likes of you, and yet leaving you free to act is too dangerous. There is only one punishment fitting for a ghost like you. {Seal him away in his present state. He won't be able to act and won't be able to recover. All he will be able to do is to watch the world move on while he remains chained by his own mistakes.}

yeah loading daemon in our damaged state is bad we would at best gain nothing since all the energy gained from loading him would go to heal us. at worst we corrupts us.
 
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"Death is too good for a wretch like you." You said. "You would soon escape its clutches even if I did kill you. On the other hand, leaving you here is also not an option. You are winded, but not beaten. In five or ten minutes, your strength will begin to return and then you will seek revenge."

"So wht choice does that leave you?" Daemon was still laughing at you, even as a skeleton, though now you noted he was becoming less and less skeletal by the second. New muscles crawled like worms across his bones; fresh, pink flesh was replacing the ashes of his previous skin. It seemed like you had underestimated him. It wasn't five or ten minutes, it was two or three!

"Impasse then." He said. "You can run, and I will kill you later, or you can stay and I will kill you now. Either way your whole fight was in vein. I am a Demon Lord, and I assure you that I earned that title. This is not the worst position I have ever been in."

"If I were a Myotismon or a Seraphimon, you would be right." You said. "My only option would be to destroy you, and hope that by your return I had gathered enough power of my own to put you down again. Unluckily for you, I am neither of those being. I am ShadowSeraphimon, I control the power of light and darkness, and together both will do what one could not."

"Do you think me a fool? Lucemon himself could not permanently destroy me, and his power dwarves your own. Scion of both or not, you cannot harm me."

"But I can bind you."

"No!" He snarled suddenly; his half-formed lips making a skeletal grimace. "I won't allow it!"

"You have no choice in the matter. Your power is used up, your body is healing, but broken. For the next few moments, you have no power Daemon."

You ignored the resulting stream of curses as you took a step back. It was true that you had a spell that could bind him – your Chains of Descent – but that was tied directly to you, so it would drain your power to keep it active, and also, once you became Myotismon again you would not be able to maintain it and he would go free. Happily, not for nothing had you spent your time around Phantomon, and with your own spellcasting abilities you could bind the spell directly into the Dark Area. In this way, it would draw strength from this place and not from you.

It was the best choice that you had; it would not quite be up to the level of the spell which held all the Demon Lords, but then you only needed to contain one and not seven. And because of your connection with Loweemon, the chains would grow stronger as the level of darkness around them increased.

They would gain strength just as fast as Daemon would.

You nodded to yourself, and set about the ritual. For the last time, you dipped into the reserve power of the two spirits who had enabled your transformation. This time, you had a very specific set of goals in mind. A simple casting of the attack would not be enough; you'd have to more in depth.

Lobomon's power would make up the bulk of the chains; their body would be carved from darkness itself. You drew as much strength as you dared from him, feeling his blinking mind connect to yours, and then help with the transfer. You felt the weariness he was feeling, and realised it was not only you this form was taxing.

You bent down and touched the ground at your feet; channelling the power that you had taken from Loweemon. Instantly, a line of darkness spread from the point of contact. It thickened and expanded until it had become a wide circle with Daemon at the centre,

"I won't be chained again!" The demon snarled. His flesh was boiling as he forced the process faster and faster. New bones erupted like shoots from a tree, and flesh clung to them like some strange climbing plant. The rapid change would make his new body brittle, but he obviously considered that the lesser of two evils.

For the next part of your ritual, you needed some power from Lobomon. As before, it was happily given, but he didn't have nearly as much as Loweemon had. Luckily, you didn't need as much. Lobomon's power would be spread more thinly, concentrated on the skin of the chains to ensure that Daemon did not infect them with his darkness. After all, if it was a pure darkness based seal then he would eventually corrupt it. In this manner, the main body of the spell was shielded by a barrier of shining light.

Not unlike your own form, you thought with a certain satisfaction. A shield between darkness and light, allowing both to co-exist.

Weaving light into the spell was not so easy; you had to create ''bubbles'' in the structure, like pockets of air to cushion the light and the dark, or else the whole thing would self destruct. You could allow no direct until the final casting. Carefully, you sowed each of these bubbles indivudally into the circle of darkness, until there had been hundreds formed and ready. They started small, like soap bubbles, but quickly began to grow bigger and bigger. You ensured they stopped once they reached the size of a head.

As you worked, Daemon healed. It was a race against time for both of you. The muscles on his arms and legs healed fasted, because that was where he directed most of his focus. As your bubbles began to form, he gave a cry of victory! His legs were working now, and he was able to stagger to his feet.

He looked like a shambling walking corpse; skin running like wax, fresh flesh pink and gleaming. His skull was still mostly bare, and you could see the long fangs that made up his teeth in greater detail than you had ever wanted to.

A step; doddering and shaky. Like he expected his whole body to give way. When it didn't, he took another. More sure this time. Then a third, faster. He was running. Coming for you before you could finish the spell.

You wouldn't win if it came to blows again; this was your last chance, so you hastened. You only had a second before he reached you, and you poured all your essence into the binding. Willing it to be done in time.

"Now you dieeee!" He howled, one hand extended; the skin pealed from it to make it into a grisly lance. He was coming at you; there was no way or time to dodge. You saw the point aimed right for your face.

Then he stopped; to his own obvious surprise.

"How?" He asked, and then looked to his feet. One of your bubbles had burst, and from it there emerged a chain of shining silver. It was beautiful; as though you had taken the essence of the moon itself and made it into the purest metal ever seen. It looked delicate, but you knew it was anything but. It was light on darkness. Stronger than any metal.

His eyes met yours for the last time. Hate, anger, rage that burned like a fire in his soul.

"I won't forget this." He swore.

"I suspect not, but you won't be able to act on it. I leave you to watch and wither, trapped by your own mistakes." You summoned the last burst of power you would need, and intoned.

"Chains of Descent."

Each of the bubbles popped and from them, there emerged a chain exactly like the first. They shone silver as they wrapped about the demon; binding arms and legs and wings. He snarled and howled, but his body was still weak from its regeneration and he could not break free. Before long, dozens of chains had ensnared him, and dragged him to his knees.

"Rrrgggh." He growled as his muscles bulged; but escape was beyond him and you both knew it. "This won't hold me forever, Seraphimon. In one year or a hundred, I'll break free. When I do, I'll track you down wherever you try to hide!"

He looked like he would have said more, but the chains gagged his mouth and he became a mere humanoid figure of glittering metal.

To say that you felt relief would be an understatement; at the moment you were sure that he was properly sealed, you fell to your knees. Stress from the fight which had building up since the very first exchange of blows in the tower was released at last.

The wound in your chest was too deep for survival; though you had been able to stench the flood of of crimson liquid, you knew that it would not last forever. The logical conclusion was that you would have to release your form; be returning to Myotismon most of the damage would be erased. It was too heavy to be completely negated in this manner, but it'd no longer be fatal at least. It was the only sane choice; but you found that you hesitated, your mind hovering over the bond that existed between you and the spirits.

You didn't want to return to Myotismon. You didn't want to go back to being a demon. Not when you were so much more. What did Myotismon know of the flow of the breeze over a feathered wing? What did he care for justice, save his own? The Cause he fought for was a true one but...

Wouldn't it be better served as an angel rather than a devil? Myotismon was much weaker than you, you thought slowly, wouldn't it be better if he never returned? Just ShadowSeraphimon?

Will it matter if I am dead? You thought, staring down at the wound. It was severe-looking; a massive stain of mixed flesh and armour fragments stained red. It was like a hole had been punched directly into you. Myotismon would be able to survive this, but you would not. Death, or a return to the path of shadow?

There was a crack, and you realised you had clenched your first so tightly that your armoured gauntlet had begun to fracture. The pain of the hand joined the numerous other aching complaints that marred your body.

Would you rather die than be Myotismon? A few moments ago, the question would have seemed supremely foolish, for you were Myotismon in a different form. Yet now you hesitated and wondered if that were true.

Once, Myotismon had not existed and MagnaAngemon had been a living creature; yet even Myotismon acknowledged that that Digimon was long dead. MagnaAngemon would never have done the things Myotismon had, or walk the same dark path. Would it even be right to allow Myotismon to live again? Didn't he too have crimes to his names?

The pain in your body was growing, and you noted with a start that a feeling of sickening weakness was spreading from your heart - -your Core – was this the wound? No... it was something more. Like you were being attacked on a microscopic level, by an alien power.

You hit the ground, and the shock sent waves of pain through your body. What was happening? It wasn't an attack, but your whole being was simply dissolving, being washed away as though it was some curse from Daemon. But it wasn't, you didn't know what this was and as the pain built, you found you didn't care.

A sparkle caught your eye. Free flying data from your armour. Your whole body was beginning to glitter; the destabilisation was literally ripping you apart.

Through a fog of pain, you remembered Loweemon's words.

''But not too alike of course, because if you totally converted then it would be your light vs my darkness and that wouldn't be a happy ending either. Try to strike a balance if you will''

You had failed to strike that balance; the thought was like an arrow to your heart. At the end, you had let the light fill you up, and responded to it to strongly. Now the conflict was being waged between your power and that of Loweemon. He was burning you out without even meaning too.

You could survive by dropping the form of ShadowSeraphimon. Myotismon would have no trouble with this; but you weren't sure if you would survive that. Sure, Myotismon would walk away. What about ShadowSeraphimon? It made a painful underline to the situation you had wondered about only seconds ago.

You almost didn't do it. Almost decided that it would be better to die as an angel than to return to a life of a devil; but then your thoughts turned to those you would leave behind. Jade, and Phantomon who you had healed, and to the humans as well. Ophanimon and even Piedmon. This whole world perched on the brink of war. If you couldn't defend them yourself, perhaps you could send someone who would.

This was the last thought of ShadowSeraphimon as he surrendered to the darkness, and let his power, his form, and his mind be washed away.

You – Myotismon – opened your eyes again, and felt the pain of the battle. It was almost like an echo of the wounds suffered by your mega form, but nevertheless, it was like waking up to a really bad hangover.

"Ugh." You spat on the ground. "I hate the taste of my own blood."

The chains that bound Daemon were still strong, so you were assured that at least he was being held for now. At the same time, you tried not to think of the brutal battle you had just waged. Never in your life had you come so close to death...

Never mind come close to, you had been dead. Daemon had killed you, boiled you alive. The fact that you were able to come back at all was a miracle. A shudder ran through you at the memories of the fight. You supposed you would be having nightmares about Daemon for a long time to come.

"What's it like to be able to wake up in a nice comfortable crypt?" You wondered aloud as you set yourself on your feet. Chest ached, arm felt like it had been twisted badly, but no wounds or blood. It'd do. "Or even a bed. How come every time I evolve I end up waking in some weird twisted hellscape?"

With nothing better to do, you began the track back to the keep. The Dark Area was dangerous for you now; Seraphimon had been like a lord of this place, but Myotismon? There were plenty of bigger fish who would live to make a snack of a weakened ultimate. Luckily, the kind of power that could demolish a mountain would also be capable of chasing those monsters away, at least for a while. You were able to make your way back to the keep without incident.

Inside, however, you were greeted with one last surprise. Phantomon was resting where you had left him, but standing over where the alter had been...

It was big; a crimson dragon which had carefully fished the Soul Gem with one gentle claw. Its wings and profile were so like that of the monsters you'd fought, that you felt a stab of adrenaline, and reached for the remains of your power. It did not attack. Slowly, you noted slight differences. The red on the DexDoruGreymon had been mottled and dark, like a dead creature. This one was vibrant, alive; and it was striped. Waves of black flowed along its red scales. A mane of snowy fur ran down its long neck, and most strikingly of all, it didn't have the same mask that the DexDoruGreymon had worn. Its ears were long, almost feline, and its eyes were green. It did have a jagged horn on its head, like its kin, but even that was a more lively colour. Also, not stained with the blood of old kills. Important distinction that.

It's head snapped around to look at you when it heard you enter the keep. Its ears flattened. You saw that there were the marks of chains across its ankles and neck; and theorised that Daemon had captured it, and used it to create his copies. Then this was not a DexDoruGreymon, but an actual living DoruGreymon.

But where had he found such a rare Digimon? Some people thought that they didn't even exist anymore, and up until a few seconds ago you would have been one of them.

"Come no closer." It hissed; its voice was tightly controlled, but you sensed pain under there. It had been connected to each and every copy – it had felt every blow landed. Every death as though it were its own. "I will defend my partner."

You raised your hands so he could see them. "I don't mean any harm." You said. " I just want to check on my friend." You nodded to Phantomon.

DoruGreymon's nostrils flared, but he nodded slowly. "Fine then. But if you take one step towards me, I will not hesitate to attack."

You walked cautiously to your friend, and checked his lifeforce with your probe. He was healing well. ShadowSeraphimon had known his magic. In a day or so, it'd be like he was never hurt at all.

You sank to the ground with your back to the wall. The weariness nearly overcame you then. It was not like you had just had an epic fight with a legendary demon lord, after all. Maintaining one mega form was energy intensive, but two? And the kind of fight you had gotten into? You were lucky that the Spirits had provided most of the power.

"Can you get me back?" You asked Loweemon; refusing to give in to the Siren call of sleep.

Maybe.... His answer was not encouraging. I haven't had to bust anyone out of the Dark Area before. Given time, I think we should be able to.

"Never mind." You said with a smile. You felt a familiar power tearing at the borders of reality. "I think our ride back has arrived."

Just like before; there was this moment of transition, like you were standing between two places, a part of neither. Then the sun shone down on you through a crack in the roof. An actual, proper sun.
Quickly, you hide from it. A muffled hiss escaping your mouth, but despite this you almost felt happy to see it. There was only one power that could pull you back to the Real World like that...

Striding to the balcony (After summoning your mist, of course.) you found yourself looking out over a devastated courtyard. The walls were cracked and obliterated, and it looked like a giant had rampaged through the area. Everywhere you looked, there were scores of dead DexDoruGreymon. There must have been easily over two hundred! Their bodies were vanishing; winking out one by one.

Below, in the centre of what had been the battlefield, you saw the tangled gnot of defenders. There were less than you had started with, you noted with a sinking feeling. Mummymon, Cerberumon, these you did not care but. But one of your own had paid the price as well... Urocyomon had died on this battlefield, and perhaps others. You spotted ChaosGallantmon, still on the ground.

You sprung from the balcony, and landed gracefully on the ground below. The others turned to see you, all seemed surprised but for the one who had retrieved the tower. Anubismon.

He greeted you with a rare smile, his eyes twinkling.

"I saw the whole battle." He said. "I could not summon you back until he was sealed, else he may have come with you. I did not think you would survive."

"I have survived many things that I shouldn't have." You said. "And if I'm lucky, I'll do it many times more."

"I know." This time his tone was not quite so gentle; there was a subtle sinisterness that warned you more than words ever could. This was the Lord of the Dead after all. He was probably extremely aware just how many times you had cheated him. Hell, he could probably list and name each one.

"In this instance, however." He said. "I am happy that you were able to survive. Sealing a Demon Lord is not a task performed every day. I hope that the price does not prove to be too much."

You wondered what he meant, but outwardly you only said.

"I am sorry about Cerberumon and Mummymon. I assume that they fought well."

"They did." He agreed. "But I do not know why you are sorry. They will be back. They serve me in my capacity as Lord of the Dead, did you think there were not any perks?"

He turned away to let you talk to the rest of the group. Jade was kneeling by a near rock. Her whole side looked like it had been torn to shreds at the claws of one of the beasts, and her face was marked with a slash from ear to mouth. She grinned at you nevertheless, showing no sign of the pain she must have been feeling. "Bastards were a hard fight to the end." She said. "Without you and Phantomon, Anubismon and Gallantmon had to do most of the work."

She lifted a hand carefully to the cut in her face. "Though I didn't exactly skip out either."

You had assured yourself that she was not badly hurt. It would scar if she were still human, but as a LadyDevimon all her wounds would heal eventually. You exchanged some pleasantries with her, and then moved on to the next ally.

ChaosGallantmon was lying on the ground with his head propped up by a large stone. If Jade had been badly injured, he'd been shredded. You saw that not a single inch of his armour seemed to have been spared the probing claws or teeth of the DexDoruGreymon. Judging by the sheer number of bodies around him, he'd killed half the horde on his own.

"I'm alive, if that's what you're wondering." He said. His voice was stiff with pain. "A bit worse for wear, but give me a few days and I'll be healed. Damn human world really seems to want to kill me off." He chuckled.

"Phantomon is still in the tower." You said to everyone. "He was hurt badly. He is healing now, but he's going to sleep for the rest of the day. Someone should fetch him."

"I'll do it." Jade said.

"Before you go, there's something you should know. There was another Digimon in the tower that-"

There was a scream of breaking ice, and then you felt rather than saw a shape flying from the tower at great speed.

"Ah, I believe it has ceased to matter." You continued. "Have fun."

As Jade flew off, you allowed yourself to sink into a sitting position. Tension flowing slowly from your muscles. It wasn't over. It was never over for you. But right here and right now, you felt like you were closer to your goal. You had defeated a Demon Lord, and acquired the Spirit of Light.

What else could a good little vampire ask for on Christmas?

There were things to be done. There always were. You needed to return to the city, to heal up, to resume your search for the Spirits. You needed to deal with Urocyomon's death, and to discover the way forward to your next goal. The Spirits were still out there... you had two, but there were eighteen left. More than enough to keep you busy a while.

So many things to do, but right here and right now, you were able to relax in the company of those you would grudgingly call friends.

For the moment at least, you were content.


End of a Chapter
 
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So, after four pages, a lot of work, a lot of voting and (hopefully) a decent story, we've come to the end of our little quest. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it, and if you have any critiques, or suggestions I will happily hear them. Now, the quest may be over, but we're not done just yet! You've unlocked two bonuses which we can now take a look at. Option One will allow you to take a sneak peek at what's in store for Myotismon and co in their battle against the Dark Generals, and option two will allow you to vote on the next quest that I post on QQ. You're not limited to just one of these options, the vote is merely to determine which one we will do first.

So cast your vote

[] Sneak Peek
[] Next quest!

Also, if anyone has any questions about possible routes or what might have happened in the quest, ask away!
 
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Oh so Homura's partner wasn't Cyberdramon. She's the partner of the reborn Alphamon. That is both bad and good,

[X] Sneak Peek
 
Deadly Snark said:
Oh so Homura's partner wasn't Cyberdramon. She's the partner of the reborn Alphamon. That is both bad and good,

[X] Sneak Peek

Partner to a DoruGreymon anyway. If you had visited the base of the keep first, you could had this cool scene where you let him out, and the three of you fought your way to the top of the keep.
 
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Now, what if we chose Darkness instead of Light?

How would we have been able to combat Daemon if we met him with Homu?
 
Talos said:
Partner to a DoruGreymon anyway. If you had visited the base of the keep first, you could had this cool scene where you let him out, and the three of you fought your way to the top of the keep.
Eh, DoruGreymons are so rare that any one that comes into existence has a good chance of being the one to bring Alphamon back.

Not to say that it's other Mega Form isn't awesome, but frankly the Alpha In Force fits Homura better.
 
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croaker said:
Now, what if we chose Darkness instead of Light?

How would we have been able to combat Daemon if we met him with Homu?

If you had chosen the dark path, you would still have formed ShadowSeraphimon, but his personality would have been much more like Daemon. He would have embraced the dark side of his power like he was doing with his light side. You'd basically be looking at a clash between two Demon Lords.

Though, as a point of interest, the dream scene would have been massively changed, and focused on the Domain of Shadow rather than the Dominion of Light.

As to the other question, having DoruGreymon at your side during the first fight would have been a massive boon. His power is not to be sneezed at, and together with you and Phantomon he might have been able to drive Daemon off before he could trigger his spell. The key word is ''might'' of course, since it depended on choices you didn't get the chance to make.

Deadly Snark said:
Eh, DoruGreymons are so rare that any one that comes into existence has a good chance of being the one to bring Alphamon back.

Not to say that it's other Mega Form isn't awesome, but frankly the Alpha In Force fits Homura better.

Point. Honestly, I was kind of expecting someone to get that there was a DoruGreymon present. After all, DexDoruGreymon need to come from somewhere, and at the number there was it was very unlikely that Daemon was creating them himself.
 
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Here's another question, what would have happened had we chosen to stuff ourselves with the energy of the grief seed way back? Or if we had experimented with it?
 
Deadly Snark said:
Here's another question, what would have happened had we chosen to stuff ourselves with the energy of the grief seed way back? Or if we had experimented with it?

Well the Grief Seed might have been destroyed if it had started to hatch like the last one, but you were not in any serious danger unless you did something really stupid, like pull out seven and try the trick on all of them at once.

What that scene actually was was set up, so that maybe during the Daemon fight one of you might remember the Grief Seed and pull a write in to use it. I didn't really expect any of you to, because it was a small scene and mostly character, but the option was there. Coincidentally, it was one of the ways you might have beaten Daemon without having to become ShadowSeraphimon.
 
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Eeh. Alphamon armour missing from our fortress was a red herring.

How about waiting for Daemon at the jail of the Demon Lords?
Was there any other way we could communicate with the prisoner in the Dark Area?
 
croaker said:
Eeh. Alphamon armour missing from our fortress was a red herring.

How about waiting for Daemon at the jail of the Demon Lords?
Was there any other way we could communicate with the prisoner in the Dark Area?

Perhaps, but it also could be related to what happened, if this DoruGreymon is actually Alphamon reborn. Its hard to say without knowing more.

If you had waited for Daemon at the jail, it would have led to some interesting character stuff. There was never any risk of him releasing the others though. It requires a multi-hour ritual that he obviously would not be able to perform during combat. It'd probably have led to a kind of hit and run battle, as the two of you ducked and wove between the frozen forms of the Demon Lords.

As for the creature you sensed; it was not a prisoner. The chains had the feel of power to them, like it was using them rather than being held by them. There's not really much you could have done to attract his attention, but you'll probably meet him again at some point anyway so noticing him now will work in your favour later.
 
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Speaking of which, who did the sacrifice to seal off the Demon Lords?
 
croaker said:
Speaking of which, who did the sacrifice to seal off the Demon Lords?

When the Royal Knights battled the Demon Lords, their leader, Imperialdramon gave his life to complete the Seal, and to guard it for all eternity. Incidentally, this is why the ritual to release them takes so long -- if you don't do it right, you get a pissed off Royal Knight ghost dragon coming to eat your face off.
 
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Talos said:
When the Royal Knights battled the Demon Lords, their leader, Imperialdramon gave his life to complete the Seal, and to guard it for all eternity. Incidentally, this is why the ritual to release them takes so long -- if you don't do it right, you get a pissed off Royal Knight ghost dragon coming to eat your face off.
That is pretty metal.

Anyway, how would trying to bend the energy of the Dark Area to our will with the Spirit of Darkness have when?
 
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[X] Sneak Peek

i loved this quest. also can anubismon do anything about urUrocyomon being dead?

also what would ophanimon say about us reaching shadowseraphimon?
 
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Deadly Snark said:
That is pretty metal.

Anyway, how would trying to bend the energy of the Dark Area to our will with the Spirit of Darkness have when?

Pretty badly considering even as ShadowSeraphimon, you weren't the biggest fish out there. It would have been a giant '' I am here! I am weak now, but can potentially become a threat! sign to a lot of beings.

You could do it, like. Just expect company real soon after you do.

noahgab1133 said:
[X] Sneak Peek

i loved this quest. also can anubismon do anything about urUrocyomon being dead?

also what would ophanimon say about us reaching shadowseraphimon?


The answer is...maybe. You're not sure what powers he has over the dead. You know that he can revive his own minions since he said so, but you do not know if he prepared them before hand or if he just can do it on the fly.

As to your second question. That's actually pretty interesting, and leads me to remember a possible path I discarded. Originally, it was not going to be Anubismon to find you and bring you back, but Ophanimon who had sensed the disturbance in the Dark Area (Two demon lord level threats going at it isn't exactly easy to miss, after all) and saw most of the fight. She would have helped you back to the Real World and maybe shared some words with you. It would have been an awesome scene, but I discarded because there I could think of no reasonable way that she could make it to the Dark Area and back so easily.
 
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The Dark Ocean

Since the Sneak Peek option was selected, allow me to present to you a snippet of what is to come.


In the dark ocean, there was a place. A temple built long ago to forgotten gods. It stood on a withered out cropping of rocks, stained blue by the lapping of the tainted waters. Upon the rocks, a few half-skeletal fond waved gently in the wind. The walls were the colour of stone, and looked to be made of thick slabs. Upon them there were carved images that once might have been quite significant. Here in the Dark Oceans, pictures and words held a kind of power and these ones had been carved by the hand of a God. They might have shone like the rays of a sun; they might once have blazed like fire; tracing themselves again and against like a bastion of furious light against the vast darkness of the ocean.

That time was gone. Now, they were dull and muted. Carved away by centuries of the same wind blowing gently from the waters of the ocean. Darkness is patient, and darkness is slow, but it never stops and eventually light must go out. Now the runes were void of power, and only a few still glowed softly. A poignant, but useless defiance.

If you traced the runes with your eyes, you might see that they converged and led to a single place around the front of the stone building. The door had once been solid bronze and as thick as the walls. Emblazoned upon its front, there had been words of power and protections, words of warning and caution. The door had burned with power, words of molten metal running across its surface in bands of blazing light.

Now the door was smashed upon the duty floor of the temple. In two halves it lay; the runes were still and dark. There was no power to this place anymore, it seemed at first glance. The runes that had once shone like a torch in the night were now dying one by one, and the temple that had housed the worshippers of an ancient power was now full only of dirt and dust; the only living things the crawling insects which made their home under the stone benches.

Despite all this; despite the dying bindings, despite the smashed door, despite the fact that the great and mighty deeds chiselled into the walls were now being ground away by the ocean wind, there was still some power to this place.

Across the floor, where there had once been an alter there was now a circle of light. Its soft glow seemed at odds with the world around it; like a lighthouse in the dead of night. Soft, yes, but powerful. It pulsed slowly, in time with its own ancient origins. There was a form cacooned in the light, but that form was impossible to make out. Restrained and bound by four golden chains which led away from the binding and each to four different glowing orbs that surrounded the central light. One in each of the cardinal directions. Ensconced within these four lesser lights one might make out four gems of different types. The surface of each gem was carefully etched with yet more runes of binding and protection.

These were the anchor points. Four in total; each one reinforcing the central binding and in turn being reinforced by it. The gems hummed faintly with power; each of them was the master-work of a true lord of the arcane. A lesser mage would have spent their entire lives toiling and never produced a work even half as grand as one of these. Indeed, many a Wizardmon would gladly offer up his core itself if only he could catch a glimpse of such perfection of the art of magic.

The Anchor points each linked to a separate binding in another place; all five spells worked in unison, supporting the others and empowering them. So long as all four held, the central one could not be broken even with the ending of the world.

Yes indeed, this binding was the masterful work of Yggdrasial himself. The World Computer had used all of his vast might and intellect to constrict a binding so complete, so perfect that never would it be broken. Not even the might of the Demon Lords themselves could prevail against this binding; not even Dagomon himself, with all the might and power of the Dark Ocean had been able to breach the shield, and he had tried many times. Indeed, it was designed by a perfect being to last as long as the stars burned in the sky.

Crack!

The sound of a crystal shattering filled the temple halls. It was soft, and yet one might feel that it was made all the more threatening for it. There was no groan of abused spellcraft; no defiant crackles of light. No surges of powers, just a simple crack.

One of the Anchor gems had shattered. The spell trailed loosely, suddenly untied from its point of origin. A tail of light blazed into existence and flapped widely before being snatched up by one of the other anchors. The extra power was compensated for. Balance was restored.

The binding held.

For now.

But there were side-effects. As the power shifted, for a second there was imbalance in the spell. A doorway opened for the smallest of instants into the self-contained workings of the most powerful binding spell ever devised. The result was a wave of raw power which surged from the temple. The light was golden in hue, glorious in sight. Like an explosion of colour in a world of black and grey. It rose into the sky, and where it touched black clouds turned to grey, and pure water fell from the sky for the first time in the Dark Ocean. It surged across the waves; impacting the beach where it overook the fleeing servents of the Dark One. They fell, screaming but they were not harmed. Most were simply knocked into sleep by the power, but a few were smart and rode the wave. Leveraging its power in a way they were not entierly sure how they knew to. One such being gave out a mighty shout; the chains which bound him burned away and he was free at last!


It plunged into the waves; like a scalpal of light into the very bowls of the Dark Ocean itself. The Waters protested; but it was too new, too young, too fierce to be stopped by such a small thing. Deep under the water, poor wrtetches who had angered Dagomon looked up with hope for the first time in centuries. The light struck them, and their suffering was ended.

It went further; still travelling; slowing now as the darkness began to work to repulse it. Down down to where the darkness was deepest and the ones who had done far worse than annoyed Dagomon where kept. Down to the very darkest part of the ocean. This was the hell reserved for traitors and failures.

There it faltered. Fading quickly. Now its energy was almost used up it could go no further. In mere seconds it would be gone and everything would once more be as it was. That didn't matter though, for it had reached its objective. In the fading light, one might see a corpse if the term ''corpse'' could be applied to the mangled victim that floated limply in the embrace of the shadows. It might once have been humanoid, but its limbs had been torn away one by one, now only a hand remained. Black blood filled the space around it, and it twitched every now and then. Death was a mercy Dagomon did not often grant.

The light faded.

A single eye opened.

The captive did not know his name. He did not know how he had come to be here or indeed, where here was. He did know pain. He had experienced it every day for what felt like centuries. Such pain as only the supernatural could bring. He had felt his very heart turn to pitch and flow burning through his body. He had felt worms which had eaten his flesh only to have it return to be eaten again. He knew weakness, for that had been his constant companion. Weakness and pain.

And hate.

Oh yes, he knew hate. Hate was what had held his bloated, mutilated corpse together as he had been down here. Hate was what he had used to hold onto the world of the living, no matter how barely. Hate fuelled him and drove him and filled him up to the brim. He didn't know what he hated, but it was probably everything.

Mostly he hated whoever had sent him here.

As the vanishing light had touched his scarred skin; for a second, he had felt something more. He couldn't voice it, he didn't know what he had felt. The agony returned, but this time it felt lesser. The light had touched him and awoken thoughts long buried, it promised without a voice. Spoke to him of justice, of freedom, but mostly, it spoke of..

It spoke of...

It promised revenge!

Though darkness wearied his mind, and the crushing waters of the Ocean made every move feel like the tightening of a vice, he forced himself to move. One hand moved slowly through the water, and he started to gather his wits.

He rose. Propelled by the same force which can bring two warring cultures to genocide; that age old emotion which had lasted as long as mankind. By the primal strength which had danced in the minds of man since long before they were man.

The Ocean didn't like it. Currents began to push him back down. Dragging him to his appointed place. He thrashed wildly, but he was still weak. He couldn't fight it. He would have screamed, but his lungs had long since been torn from his body.

As he sank helplessly, the being felt words echo back into his head. The last words he had heard before the pain.

"You have failed me. Not only were you unable to do as I ordered but you were destroyed as well! If they had fully loaded your data, I would not even have been able to retrieve your core."

"Please Lord Dagomon. Give me one more chance. It isn't my fault! He evolved, I wasn't ready."

"Enough! I tolerate no failures from my servants especially my second in command. You have failed and the price for failure is well known to you. To the Dark Ocean!"

"No! But I have served you faithfully for hundreds of years! Surely one failure doesn't outweigh all that!"

"You fool. Even if you did not fail, did you thinki I missed your scheming and planning? You would covet my throne, like your predecessor, and like your predecessor you will find only pain as the rewards for such treachery!"

"No my lord! I live to obey your commands! Command me, and I shall do it!"

"Command you? Very well then. I command you to suffer. Suffer without hope for death. Your Core will never be released to be reborn. Your power will be stolen and given to the Ocean. Even in agony, will you serve me."

This time, he did scream. It was a scream of the soul as fresh agony pounded through him and fire ignited in his veins. He writhed and reached up towards the surface, towards the light; willpower mixed with anger and refusal to die. Hate was fuel for strength, and with power he didn't have a moment ago he surged upwards.

Up here, the light lingered yet. As his form met it, a miracle took place. He shuddered; nerw flesh began to grow, bones began to knite together. A second arm joined the first; it was pain, indeed, some would call it true torture but after what he had been through, what was pain to him?

The Dark Ocean seemed to scream in protest; no one had ever escaped it and the currents were truly fierce now. Each kick which brought him closer to the light also seemed to be much harder than the last. It tightened about his body like it intended to crush his new bones to dust. By instinct, he knew that this was his only chance. To be drawn back to the heart of the ocean was to forfeit hope forever. Each time he felt his strength begin to ebb, he thought back to the pain of that place, and to the anger that he had felt, and there he found new strength to go on.

Then he broke the surface of the water, and breathed air for the first time in who knew how long. It was the corrupted, tainted air of the Dark Ocean. Laced with danger and promise of pain, but to him it might as well have been the freshest air in the world. He breathed it in and felt it fill the lungs he had not had mere moments ago.

He took a long ragged breath. His lungs burned and the wounds across his body seeped bile and blood. Even with the healing light he was as a risen corpse. Decayed and faltering. Without the sea to support him, he could barely move.

Hate came to his aid. The face...the face of his tormentor... and the face of the one who had sent him here... the faces of the ones who had done this to him! Bile rose in his gut and he clawed a painful inch further onto the beach. Slowly, inch by inch, he moved towards the temple. Towards the light. He left a trail of blood and ink as he went. Now, he was at the ruined doors. Now, he was into the dusty pews.

Now he was before the binding.

He reached out, but the light repelled him with an equal force. Somehow, he knew that it would do the same wether he poked it or hit it with all his power. He gazed at it for a second; feeling the power inside. It thrummed through his body; the light which had saved him had promised revenge. Yet, he knew not how to reach it.

There had to be another way! He had only moments before his former master realised his escape. He had to move. Desperate, he looked across the dusty floor. His gaze fell upon a shattered crystal, and a small leak in an otherwise perfect binding. That was his chance, the only way he would be able to reach the light which had promised so much.

He put his hand inside the tiny circle and there was light.


So you have come. Said a voice from the inside of the binding. He was weak now, weakening by the second. The world was fading; he was dying. Hate boiled inside his soul, but hate alone could no longer sustain his body.


Help.... He begged the voice. I don't want to die yet... I want to live.


As do all who come before me. A mere desire to live is not enough. What else do you want? What else do you need?

He thought. What else did he need? What had sustained him all the time in that dark place? What had kept him from being blown to pieces? A mere screaming mind caught in the churning of the ocean? Hate had done it, but hate directed at whom? His master? Oh yes, Dagomon would pay. But others too, the ones who had caused him to fail; the ones who had destroyed him and caused his failure; that had had doomed him as surely as that of Dagomon. There was only one answer, and he didn't pause in voicing it.

I want revenge! He thought. I want to hear their screams of rage and despair! I want them to suffer as I did! Be as helpless as I was! I want to spill their blood and dance in it! I want to see them all dead!

Your rage is pure. The voice said. So much like the one before you, but different as well. Your rage is solid and directed. As dark and heavy as the ocean which once held you. Very well then. My powers are sealed, but this much I can manage. Be honoured. You are the first to be chosen for over a thousand years.

A new pain burned its way across his body. Like electricity, it seemed to surge from muscle to muscle. He felt like he would explode; his flesh began to slough off his muscle and his bones to snap and bend. There was a horrible sound as though he were being turned inside out and he could barely hear the voice's words.

By the power of the Digimon King; the Lord of Miracles commands you! By the power given to me by my father, I bind you! By the power of the hatred in your soul, I set you free. Die MarineDevimon and be reborn. This is the power I grant to ye, that the ocean which once held you now be your slave! Forget your pain. For it is gone. Forget weakness, for now you are strong.


MarineDevimon...

The pain had stopped now. The electricity had stalled – not stopped, there was a definite feel that it could resume at any second.

"Yes..."

Die.


The blast of energy propelled him out of the door. It smashed him into the ground of the island and sent him rolling into the ocean. The sea swallowed him eagerly ready to return him to his proper place of torment. Dark chains rose to bind him, but as soon as they touched his skin; they faltered. The torrent of the water began to ease, and he realised that he was not being dragged back to that hell. Something had changed, the waters twisted around him; thickening and morphing; infusing his ragged body with new life and power.


DarkSeaDevimon.

The water boiled. The final lashings of the sea were finished. A new figure rose from the waters, slimmer; his lower half a mass of writhing tendrils. Two fins extending from his back like the wings of a demon. His upper chest was muscular and bulged with power. In his left hand, a trident of darkness. His face was covered in a steel mask, but his eyes were as red as the crimson sunset.

CurseDevimon has fallen. He was weak. To you, I give his lands and titles. Royal General of the West. Commander of my oceanic forces. The Digimon King bides you to rise!

"Yes." DarkSeaDevimon flexed his hands. "I remember again... Dagomon... and Phantomon who destroyed me! And the Devimon who helped."

Their lives are yours as per the agreement. Service for revenge. You will find I am not a cruel master. Do as you will with them. But first, I have a mission for you. This ocean was mine once. The capital of my empire. Dagomon is a usurper and a fool. Take back what was mine!

DarkSeaDevimon slowly brought his head up.

"Dagomon's hold is strong. In this place, he is stronger than a mega."

As are you, in this place. The Dark Ocean tried to consume you, so I made you a part of it. The Lord of the Dark Ocean. Break his grasp once and for all.

"I'll need an army. He has servants, many of them and they are powerful."

You shall have it. The souls he has sealed in this place will be his undoing. Release them! Command them! Raise your army and take back my capital.

"Yes...." He remembered the lost souls sealed with him. The pain and hate they felt... they would make perfect soldiers. All he had do was to motivate them. Lead them and unleash that great store of rage. "My soldiers of the Damned."

A fitting name.

"I shall do as you command. I will raise my army and take back the Ocean then.... I shall kill Dagomon with my bare hands! And once that is done...the others."


Yes. The voice sounded satisfied with itself as it began to grow dimmer. I cannot stay for long; even now the binding tightens its grasp. Too late! I have given you the power you sought, now reclaim my ocean and then release the others. Free me, and I shall make this world shake.

To be continued...?
 
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THAT MOTHERFUCKER!

This time we're annihilating him with the combined might of Light and Darkness. If the fucker so much as harms a single hair on Madoka and Phantomon's bodies there shall be a terrible reckoning!

Also, we really need to get working on producing an army from the Grief Seeds or the Soul Gems.
 
We'll have Homu on our side this time. Going after Phatamon will mean going after Madoka. Which means Homu enters kill modo.
 

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