So, funny story. After Daneel released a surprise update awhile back, I decided to write this as a sort of challenge/celebration after kicking the idea around a bit; a sort of welcome back present, you could say.
Then, like, five months passed.
Whoops. But I guess that makes this extra surprising.
The Hazards of Hubris
Prologue
Digimon Tamers
All around me, Tokyo burnt. Though it was only a bit after midday, ash and dust blanketed the sky, the fires below casting odd, shifting shadows over everything. It didn’t really matter, truthfully; even if the skies hadn’t been dirtied by the battle, they were still rent and darkened by the invasion, turned into a dark mirror of another world.
After everything, after all the fighting and destruction and death, we’d chosen to make our last stand here, in the place where it all began. And for that reason, Tokyo had been destroyed.
And yet, somehow, we’d won.
—It didn’t make any sense. I didn’t mean that as in it was hard to believe or that I couldn’t believe it was over; it didn’t make any sense for me to be standing here like this. I’d known from the beginning that this wasn’t a fight I could win, just like I’d known I wouldn’t find anything but death here. I’d known that, with a certainty that went down to my bones, above and beyond anything AncientWisemon could ever show. When I’d left for this battle, I’d known I was coming her to die. I’d had some tricks up my sleeves, some plans, and a few cards I hadn’t played yet, but I’d known, quietly, that none of them would work.
But I’d fought anyway. Because someone had to, even if it was impossible. Because maybe, even if I died, I could buy the others some time, give them a chance to figure something out, pave the way for whoever came next. Because it was the right thing to do, because I’d rather fight a losing battle than run and abandon others to their fate—because, in the end, even if this was my death, I’d rather die here fighting than give up and let others die instead.
There was a part of me that wanted to think that was how I’d turned things around; that it was that quiet conviction and resolve, perhaps even heroic spirit, that had allowed me to overcome the impossible.
I mulled over that thought for a long, silent moment, trying to see if I believed it, before shaking my head, looking down at my fallen enemy. I had him, somehow, dead to rights, a situation I knew I couldn’t afford to give up or hesitate with, but it was so ridiculously, impossibly unbelievable that even if it was stupid, even if it was a trap, I had to know.
“Why?” I asked, holding Gram steady at his throat. As I spoke, it was the roughness of my own voice that made me realize how truly, utterly exhausted I was. The transformation of Crimson Mode having already abandoned me and it had taken most of my energy along with it. As trump cards went, it was the best I had—the best anyone in the world had—but this still didn’t make any goddamn sense.
Lucemon just laughed, and while my voice was strained and weak in victory, not even the slightest hint of pain bleed through into his.
“Your friends might already be dead and yet you’re wasting your time chatting here with me,” He said with a chuckle. “What do you possibly have time to be wondering about now?”
Takato, my partner’s voice growled in my ear, Guilmon’s voice fierce as he barely kept his rage in check. I understood what he was feeling, because I felt it, too—I could still taste the hate and rage we’d let slip loose, the dark power of Megidramon and ChaosDukemon that we’d unleashed upon the forces of the Dark Area. I remembered everyone who’d died, everything that had been, lost, all the death and destruction—Tokyo had been reduced to a graveyard and a lot of it’s new residents had been friends. Even family.
Despite myself, I glanced aside, towards what would have been bodies had anything still remained. I hadn’t been alone when the battle started, but I stood alone now; there was nothing left behind of the Tamers that had followed us or the organization we’d worked so hard to protect the world with. The friends I’d made, the students I’d trained even though I was just a kid myself, the world-wide effort that had come together to protect the world...they was all but destroyed. In the distance, I could still hear the sounds of fighting, but even that was slowly dying down.
Yet none of the Dark Area’s denizens had appeared to interfere with our battle. That, in itself, spoke volumes.
Slowly, I looked back at Lucemon.
He laughed again at the sight of me, but it suddenly looked painful to me; not the action itself, really, but him.
“Who are you crying for?” He asked, tone teasing as if we were old friends. “It’s not for me, is it? The victor shouldn’t cry, Takato.”
I was crying? I couldn’t tell. Maybe I’d just gotten used to the feeling. A part of me was embarrassed by that, but a larger part thought that there were plenty of things to cry about.
And yet, I swallowed it down. Here and now, I had to, not because there was anything wrong with tears, but because there were things I refused to cry over now. Ruki...Jenrya…the others…there was no way of knowing if they’d been able to win. There was no way of knowing if they were even still alive.
—But, even if that was true, I believed in them. I knew they’d win, so I could cry yet. Even if it seemed impossible to anyone else, even if there was nothing to base it on, I’d say that a thousand times. Despite the odds, I’d been certain of their victory and I’d known that no matter what, I could rely on them to take down the other Demon Lords. Really, there was only one person who...
“Liar,” I whispered. “I knew from the beginning I couldn’t win.”
He smiled distantly at that, as if looking at me and seeing something else.
“Me, too,” Lucemon said. “No matter what I do, I know I can’t win.”
“What?” I asked, spear trembling slightly at the unexpected words. “What are you talking about? You...you could have won at any time and we both know it.”
“Meaningless,” He said, sneering derisively. “Win or lose, it’s all meaningless.”
“Meaningless?” I nearly snarled, heat returning to my cold body. Here and now, the balance that kept me Dukemon was fragile, especially having been broken so recently, and his words were almost enough to push me back over the edge. The notion that he thought this was pointless, that all this death and destruction was for nothing even in his eyes…I could brush of scales and teeth, something like a pair of wings pushing against the inside of my ribcage. In truth, if anything kept me in check in that moment, it was simple exhaustion. I didn’t have the energy to become a monster again and the rising anger just made me dizzy, even nauseous. “Then why?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” He said, his smile almost helpless. “No, rather, it would have no meaning to you, from where you stand. Even from my perspective, I’m not sure if it holds any value. I wonder why I keep trying, then? Hm...yes. I suppose I just...need to.”
He laughed again as he said that, as though the words were some kind of joke, and then looked at me expectantly.
“Takato,” He said, somehow managing once again to sound like we were close friends instead of bitter enemies. “Have you ever heard of the tale of Sisyphus?”
I didn’t answer, though I hadn’t. I was starting to wonder if there was any point to this or if I should just...end it, now. He might have been trying to buy time, and even if he wasn’t, my friends probably needed me. If he wasn’t going to give me any answers, then I’d just have to live not knowing, I guess.
But Lucemon didn’t seem to care about my silence. Maybe he just wanted to hear himself talk.
“A mortal man challenged the powers of the world and committed crimes against the gods themselves,” He explained, as if we were walking to class together. “He chained up death itself, but when it came his turn to die, he was punished, told to push a boulder up to the top of a hill. Should he reach the top, he’d go free—yet whenever he approached the summit, the boulder would get loose and fall back down, forcing him to start all over again. For trying to cheat death, he was given a karmic punishment, forced to struggle futilely again and again and again, with no hope of success.”
He laughed and shook his head.
“Can you imagine such a fate, Takato?” He asked me. “To be doomed to try without end to strive for something, yet knowing only failure awaits you? Imagine facing a losing battle without the slightest hope of victory, forever and ever for what one wants, nothing but a victim of the gods...is anything worth such a thing?”
I didn’t intend to answer at first, even as I allowed him to ramble. Instead, I kept an eye on my surroundings and Gram at his throat, ready to end him at any moment yet hesitating for reasons even I wasn’t sure of.
But as he finished, his words struck close to home, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. Was he talking about me, knowing I’d come here fully aware that I couldn’t win, or something else? Himself, somehow?
Either way, I thought again about what brought me here and couldn’t help but speak.
“...Isn’t that up to Sisyphus?” I answered at last, not even sure of what I was saying. When Lucemon quirked an eyebrow, I swallowed and continued the thought. “Whether it’s worth it or not…whether he’s being punished endlessly or is impossible to overcome…whether it's endless futility or endless determination…no one but Sisyphus can decide that. Maybe it’s a tragedy and Sisyphus is forced to struggle against his will forever, but maybe he never gave up hope. If he dreamed of being free and he never stopped trying...I don’t really think that it’d be right to call him a victim.”
“...Even if it’s just a hopeless delusion?”
“I don’t think anyone has the right to decide what’s hopeless or not,” I said. “Even if you fail countless times, maybe someday you’ll succeed. And even if you don’t, maybe there’s a meaning to just trying. If it was me...if I could save them, if I could protect my friends, it’d be worth it to try. I could try a thousand times.”
“A thousand times, huh…?” Lucemon repeated, lips quirking upwards. “It feels like it’s been more than that.”
There was something in his tone that sent a chill down my spine.
“What?” I asked.
“Maybe I expected this,” Lucemon said. “You always fought, after all, even though you couldn’t win. No matter what happened, no matter what I did to threaten or hurt you, you fought until the end. You were just a...meaningless side item, but you always ended up in my way, unless...heh. I could bribe the others, threaten them, intimidate them, trick them, seduce them to my side, but no matter what I made of you, when it came to this, you stood up to me. I wonder...is that why Yggdrasil made you a Royal Knight? If so, maybe that’s why I can’t...”
“No, stop,” I demanded, pressing Gram a bit harder to his neck. “What are you talking about? Explain now! What is all this!?”
“Hmph. It’s nothing,” He said arrogantly, rolling his eyes. “I simply grew sentimental and thought it might be fun to let you win, just this once. But now, I have to wonder…if it was you, would you have done the same thing? Then...show me. I won’t ask for a thousand, but in return for this taste of victory, let me see what you would do, if you had one chance. Ah, to think I’d actually look forward to something!”
In an instant, a vast, red circle began to glow around us, expanding out from Lucemon. Strange designs painted themselves across it too fast for me to see, but I recognized it anyway, to my terror.
The Crest of Pride.
“Lucemon!” I shouted, no longer hesitating. Gram pushed forward, flesh parted, and then—
XxXXxX
“Lucemon!”
I jolted awake in an instant, reaching for my D-Arc, and my heart started to pound when I grasped only air. My eyes were wide, darting around in sudden, instinctual terror at the cry, and my condition didn’t approve at what I found. Though my first thought was to find Guilmon, he was nowhere in sight. Instead, I was in a massive room colored white and gold that I’d never seen before in my life.
What happened? Where was I? Had there been another attack? Had I been captured? The last thing I remembered was fighting Lucemon and then I’d—
Takato.
The voice was quiet, perhaps even tired, but no less warm for it. I felt Guilmon’s presence more clearly then, the warmth of it bathing me softly as my partner answered my sudden panic with gentle, encompassing reassurance. He did that, sometimes, when I was close to having a panic attack. Which had been more often than I like to admit, lately.
But for me to feel his presence like this...I must have fallen asleep Biomerged again. I should really stop being surprised by that; whether it was a good thing or not, it was nearly an everyday occurrence at this point. It just saved time and made it easier to react to emergencies.
Like now.
There was a tingle at the edge of senses that I’d come to associate with Guilmon’s inherent sense for other Digimon—and the source was coming closer. Given the nature of the warning, I didn’t hesitate to summon Aegis and Gram, rising up to prepare for battle…
…Um.
I looked down at my hands—my fleshy, human hands, though one was covered with odd, blue markings—with wide eyes, more than a little…concerned with the lack of heavy weaponry and armor. What’s more, as I rose, I felt something strange, as if my entire body was some off balance. I felt something twitch behind me and caught sight of something white out of the corner of my eye—
“Lucemon!” Came the voice again, but it was only now that I noticed that it wasn’t a shout of warning. In fact, the voice itself sounded cheerful, even musical. “Lucemon, it’s time to wake up—ah.”
A door I hadn’t paid much attention to abruptly swung open, revealing the surprised face on an Angewomon. After a moment, however, the expression changed into a gentle smile.
“Oh, you’re awake. Good morning, Lucemon.”
...Um.
Then, like, five months passed.
Whoops. But I guess that makes this extra surprising.
The Hazards of Hubris
Prologue
Digimon Tamers
All around me, Tokyo burnt. Though it was only a bit after midday, ash and dust blanketed the sky, the fires below casting odd, shifting shadows over everything. It didn’t really matter, truthfully; even if the skies hadn’t been dirtied by the battle, they were still rent and darkened by the invasion, turned into a dark mirror of another world.
After everything, after all the fighting and destruction and death, we’d chosen to make our last stand here, in the place where it all began. And for that reason, Tokyo had been destroyed.
And yet, somehow, we’d won.
—It didn’t make any sense. I didn’t mean that as in it was hard to believe or that I couldn’t believe it was over; it didn’t make any sense for me to be standing here like this. I’d known from the beginning that this wasn’t a fight I could win, just like I’d known I wouldn’t find anything but death here. I’d known that, with a certainty that went down to my bones, above and beyond anything AncientWisemon could ever show. When I’d left for this battle, I’d known I was coming her to die. I’d had some tricks up my sleeves, some plans, and a few cards I hadn’t played yet, but I’d known, quietly, that none of them would work.
But I’d fought anyway. Because someone had to, even if it was impossible. Because maybe, even if I died, I could buy the others some time, give them a chance to figure something out, pave the way for whoever came next. Because it was the right thing to do, because I’d rather fight a losing battle than run and abandon others to their fate—because, in the end, even if this was my death, I’d rather die here fighting than give up and let others die instead.
There was a part of me that wanted to think that was how I’d turned things around; that it was that quiet conviction and resolve, perhaps even heroic spirit, that had allowed me to overcome the impossible.
I mulled over that thought for a long, silent moment, trying to see if I believed it, before shaking my head, looking down at my fallen enemy. I had him, somehow, dead to rights, a situation I knew I couldn’t afford to give up or hesitate with, but it was so ridiculously, impossibly unbelievable that even if it was stupid, even if it was a trap, I had to know.
“Why?” I asked, holding Gram steady at his throat. As I spoke, it was the roughness of my own voice that made me realize how truly, utterly exhausted I was. The transformation of Crimson Mode having already abandoned me and it had taken most of my energy along with it. As trump cards went, it was the best I had—the best anyone in the world had—but this still didn’t make any goddamn sense.
Lucemon just laughed, and while my voice was strained and weak in victory, not even the slightest hint of pain bleed through into his.
“Your friends might already be dead and yet you’re wasting your time chatting here with me,” He said with a chuckle. “What do you possibly have time to be wondering about now?”
Takato, my partner’s voice growled in my ear, Guilmon’s voice fierce as he barely kept his rage in check. I understood what he was feeling, because I felt it, too—I could still taste the hate and rage we’d let slip loose, the dark power of Megidramon and ChaosDukemon that we’d unleashed upon the forces of the Dark Area. I remembered everyone who’d died, everything that had been, lost, all the death and destruction—Tokyo had been reduced to a graveyard and a lot of it’s new residents had been friends. Even family.
Despite myself, I glanced aside, towards what would have been bodies had anything still remained. I hadn’t been alone when the battle started, but I stood alone now; there was nothing left behind of the Tamers that had followed us or the organization we’d worked so hard to protect the world with. The friends I’d made, the students I’d trained even though I was just a kid myself, the world-wide effort that had come together to protect the world...they was all but destroyed. In the distance, I could still hear the sounds of fighting, but even that was slowly dying down.
Yet none of the Dark Area’s denizens had appeared to interfere with our battle. That, in itself, spoke volumes.
Slowly, I looked back at Lucemon.
He laughed again at the sight of me, but it suddenly looked painful to me; not the action itself, really, but him.
“Who are you crying for?” He asked, tone teasing as if we were old friends. “It’s not for me, is it? The victor shouldn’t cry, Takato.”
I was crying? I couldn’t tell. Maybe I’d just gotten used to the feeling. A part of me was embarrassed by that, but a larger part thought that there were plenty of things to cry about.
And yet, I swallowed it down. Here and now, I had to, not because there was anything wrong with tears, but because there were things I refused to cry over now. Ruki...Jenrya…the others…there was no way of knowing if they’d been able to win. There was no way of knowing if they were even still alive.
—But, even if that was true, I believed in them. I knew they’d win, so I could cry yet. Even if it seemed impossible to anyone else, even if there was nothing to base it on, I’d say that a thousand times. Despite the odds, I’d been certain of their victory and I’d known that no matter what, I could rely on them to take down the other Demon Lords. Really, there was only one person who...
“Liar,” I whispered. “I knew from the beginning I couldn’t win.”
He smiled distantly at that, as if looking at me and seeing something else.
“Me, too,” Lucemon said. “No matter what I do, I know I can’t win.”
“What?” I asked, spear trembling slightly at the unexpected words. “What are you talking about? You...you could have won at any time and we both know it.”
“Meaningless,” He said, sneering derisively. “Win or lose, it’s all meaningless.”
“Meaningless?” I nearly snarled, heat returning to my cold body. Here and now, the balance that kept me Dukemon was fragile, especially having been broken so recently, and his words were almost enough to push me back over the edge. The notion that he thought this was pointless, that all this death and destruction was for nothing even in his eyes…I could brush of scales and teeth, something like a pair of wings pushing against the inside of my ribcage. In truth, if anything kept me in check in that moment, it was simple exhaustion. I didn’t have the energy to become a monster again and the rising anger just made me dizzy, even nauseous. “Then why?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” He said, his smile almost helpless. “No, rather, it would have no meaning to you, from where you stand. Even from my perspective, I’m not sure if it holds any value. I wonder why I keep trying, then? Hm...yes. I suppose I just...need to.”
He laughed again as he said that, as though the words were some kind of joke, and then looked at me expectantly.
“Takato,” He said, somehow managing once again to sound like we were close friends instead of bitter enemies. “Have you ever heard of the tale of Sisyphus?”
I didn’t answer, though I hadn’t. I was starting to wonder if there was any point to this or if I should just...end it, now. He might have been trying to buy time, and even if he wasn’t, my friends probably needed me. If he wasn’t going to give me any answers, then I’d just have to live not knowing, I guess.
But Lucemon didn’t seem to care about my silence. Maybe he just wanted to hear himself talk.
“A mortal man challenged the powers of the world and committed crimes against the gods themselves,” He explained, as if we were walking to class together. “He chained up death itself, but when it came his turn to die, he was punished, told to push a boulder up to the top of a hill. Should he reach the top, he’d go free—yet whenever he approached the summit, the boulder would get loose and fall back down, forcing him to start all over again. For trying to cheat death, he was given a karmic punishment, forced to struggle futilely again and again and again, with no hope of success.”
He laughed and shook his head.
“Can you imagine such a fate, Takato?” He asked me. “To be doomed to try without end to strive for something, yet knowing only failure awaits you? Imagine facing a losing battle without the slightest hope of victory, forever and ever for what one wants, nothing but a victim of the gods...is anything worth such a thing?”
I didn’t intend to answer at first, even as I allowed him to ramble. Instead, I kept an eye on my surroundings and Gram at his throat, ready to end him at any moment yet hesitating for reasons even I wasn’t sure of.
But as he finished, his words struck close to home, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. Was he talking about me, knowing I’d come here fully aware that I couldn’t win, or something else? Himself, somehow?
Either way, I thought again about what brought me here and couldn’t help but speak.
“...Isn’t that up to Sisyphus?” I answered at last, not even sure of what I was saying. When Lucemon quirked an eyebrow, I swallowed and continued the thought. “Whether it’s worth it or not…whether he’s being punished endlessly or is impossible to overcome…whether it's endless futility or endless determination…no one but Sisyphus can decide that. Maybe it’s a tragedy and Sisyphus is forced to struggle against his will forever, but maybe he never gave up hope. If he dreamed of being free and he never stopped trying...I don’t really think that it’d be right to call him a victim.”
“...Even if it’s just a hopeless delusion?”
“I don’t think anyone has the right to decide what’s hopeless or not,” I said. “Even if you fail countless times, maybe someday you’ll succeed. And even if you don’t, maybe there’s a meaning to just trying. If it was me...if I could save them, if I could protect my friends, it’d be worth it to try. I could try a thousand times.”
“A thousand times, huh…?” Lucemon repeated, lips quirking upwards. “It feels like it’s been more than that.”
There was something in his tone that sent a chill down my spine.
“What?” I asked.
“Maybe I expected this,” Lucemon said. “You always fought, after all, even though you couldn’t win. No matter what happened, no matter what I did to threaten or hurt you, you fought until the end. You were just a...meaningless side item, but you always ended up in my way, unless...heh. I could bribe the others, threaten them, intimidate them, trick them, seduce them to my side, but no matter what I made of you, when it came to this, you stood up to me. I wonder...is that why Yggdrasil made you a Royal Knight? If so, maybe that’s why I can’t...”
“No, stop,” I demanded, pressing Gram a bit harder to his neck. “What are you talking about? Explain now! What is all this!?”
“Hmph. It’s nothing,” He said arrogantly, rolling his eyes. “I simply grew sentimental and thought it might be fun to let you win, just this once. But now, I have to wonder…if it was you, would you have done the same thing? Then...show me. I won’t ask for a thousand, but in return for this taste of victory, let me see what you would do, if you had one chance. Ah, to think I’d actually look forward to something!”
In an instant, a vast, red circle began to glow around us, expanding out from Lucemon. Strange designs painted themselves across it too fast for me to see, but I recognized it anyway, to my terror.
The Crest of Pride.
“Lucemon!” I shouted, no longer hesitating. Gram pushed forward, flesh parted, and then—
XxXXxX
“Lucemon!”
I jolted awake in an instant, reaching for my D-Arc, and my heart started to pound when I grasped only air. My eyes were wide, darting around in sudden, instinctual terror at the cry, and my condition didn’t approve at what I found. Though my first thought was to find Guilmon, he was nowhere in sight. Instead, I was in a massive room colored white and gold that I’d never seen before in my life.
What happened? Where was I? Had there been another attack? Had I been captured? The last thing I remembered was fighting Lucemon and then I’d—
Takato.
The voice was quiet, perhaps even tired, but no less warm for it. I felt Guilmon’s presence more clearly then, the warmth of it bathing me softly as my partner answered my sudden panic with gentle, encompassing reassurance. He did that, sometimes, when I was close to having a panic attack. Which had been more often than I like to admit, lately.
But for me to feel his presence like this...I must have fallen asleep Biomerged again. I should really stop being surprised by that; whether it was a good thing or not, it was nearly an everyday occurrence at this point. It just saved time and made it easier to react to emergencies.
Like now.
There was a tingle at the edge of senses that I’d come to associate with Guilmon’s inherent sense for other Digimon—and the source was coming closer. Given the nature of the warning, I didn’t hesitate to summon Aegis and Gram, rising up to prepare for battle…
…Um.
I looked down at my hands—my fleshy, human hands, though one was covered with odd, blue markings—with wide eyes, more than a little…concerned with the lack of heavy weaponry and armor. What’s more, as I rose, I felt something strange, as if my entire body was some off balance. I felt something twitch behind me and caught sight of something white out of the corner of my eye—
“Lucemon!” Came the voice again, but it was only now that I noticed that it wasn’t a shout of warning. In fact, the voice itself sounded cheerful, even musical. “Lucemon, it’s time to wake up—ah.”
A door I hadn’t paid much attention to abruptly swung open, revealing the surprised face on an Angewomon. After a moment, however, the expression changed into a gentle smile.
“Oh, you’re awake. Good morning, Lucemon.”
...Um.
