A eerie feeling lingered over the world. The sense of darkness and danger hanging in the night's air. A strong breeze blew through the desert, parting around an extremely large hut that was thirty feet tall and a hundred feet long and wide. It sat solo in the desert, though it wasn't far off from the nearest oasis town.
A strong gust increased, blowing grains of sand along the duneless plain. The front of the abode was lit up by the brilliance of a single torch. Its flame swayed to the side as it was blown with the wind, flickering as it was pushed.
Inside the hut sat an AncientGreymon, who lay on his stomach with his chin resting on his crossed forearms. The dragon's eyes were closed in deep thought. He has sensed an external darkness looming over the world. It grasped at his heart, taunting him, coaxing him.
He let out a deep sigh. Anybody who knew the digimon knew that he wasn't his regular self. As of late, his heart lacked the passion and enthusiasm that he so often held for his life and his missions. No longer was he the first one out of the gate. Instead, he gave off a feeling that nobody would ever have expected from him... and air of hopelessness. Anybody who knew Tiwaz would say that he has changed...
His bright, blue eyes snapped open upon hearing a rapping on the door. The AncientGreymon grunted and stood to his feet, trudging towards the large door to open it. Outside he saw a Halsemon, who was angling his head to the side to prevent sand from flying in his eyes. Upon his seeing of Tiwaz, he promptly bowed his head respectfully.
"Sir Tiwaz..." he addressed formally. "...There's a problem... and you might be needed..."
Tiwaz slowly looked over to his goggles hanging upon his armour rack and then back to the Halsemon, sighing. "I know... I can feel it."
"There's a darkness coming... It's coming fast," the Halsemon said with worry. "I don't want to ask this of you, but... I can't do anything else about it," he said, shutting his eyes.
The AncientGreymon looked down at him. "...Tell me."
"I don't know what caused it... but there's an outbreak..."
"An outbreak of what? Get to it already," he impatiently responded.
"...Of Death-X digimon," he said, suppressing shivers as he spoke. He refused to open his eyes. "...It's my village... There's five Dexmon getting near it. We don't stand a chance against them!"
Tiwaz's eyes slowly narrowed as he spoke. "Dexmon...?"
The Halsemon nodded. "I-I can't ask you to fight for us, but if you can gather-"
"No." His words were resolute as they left his mouth. "...I'll fight them," he said, his words heavy. He spoke as if he knew of what the outcome already was... as if he knew of his fate.
He knew he wouldn't return.
"But Tiwaz, sir!" the Halsemon protested. "You can't!"
"Don't tell me what I cannot do," Tiwaz told him, his eyes icy as they glared into his.
"But it's suicide!" the Halsemon pleaded.
"No..." Tiwaz said. The AncientGreymon slowly walked past him and looked up, gazing into the starry night sky overhead.
"...It's what it means to be a hero..." he whispered.
Within a second, the Halsemon had vanished and he could feel a new presence behind him. The dragon knew who it was exactly, just by the way they made him feel by being around them. He turned around and saw the form of a female RizeGreymon standing in the hut, behind him.
Tiwaz offered a small smile and turned around to walk towards her. As he did so, he used his tail to take his goggles from the armour rack beside the door.
"Going again, Tiwaz?" she asked in a kind but slightly disappointed tone.
"...Yes," he said sadly, not wanting to tell her the grim truth.
She moved closer to him, equal to him in height. "Tiwaz... Why have you been gone so often lately?"
The AncientGreymon's gaze turned to the floor, not prepared with an answer. "Rizalia, I..."
Rizalia moved closer and placed her claws on his shoulders, rubbing them soothingly. "You've been getting more nightmares recently too... ever since you found out about Fenrir..."
Tiwaz grimaced, but looked up to face her directly. "...I know ...I've been trying to distract myself," he said grimly. "...It hasn't been working," he thought.
"We'll get through it, Tiwaz... I promise," she said, moving closer to him.
"I've tried..." he told her. "But I'm the only one left... They're all gone."
"I must go now..." Tiwaz said to his wife. He knew that this was probably the last time that he would ever see her. He stared deep into her golden eyes, not wanting to ever take his eyes off of them. For once, not hiding his true emotions, he spoke more genuinely than he ever had before. "...I love you, Rizalia."
He then moved his head towards hers and kissed her passionately, to which she returned the loving action. After several minutes, he finally forced himself to wrench his head away and turn around. "...And tell our sons I'm proud of them."
"Tiwaz... Why are you saying this?" she asked, slightly worried.
"Because I mean it," he replied resolutely, looking over his shoulder and now donning his goggles. "...And I'll always love you."
"...And I'll love you too, but--" Rizalia responded, but was cut off as Tiwaz instantaneously changed scenery.
Within a second he was suddenly standing in a blackened wasteland. He immediately knew there was a village behind him. He could hear the panicked running of fleeing civilians. Before him stood a towering Dexmon, giving even his size a match. To his right was also a Dexmon. Both the undead digimon were heavily burnt and wounded. Between Tiwaz and his foes was a shroud of black, dissapating data. Somehow he knew that it was from three Dexmon that he had slain.
The dragon looked down at himself. His blue goggles rested in front of his eyes. His armour was dented, cracked, and even shattered in some parts. His form was soaked with blood from various burns and cuts he had sustained. His black skin was bruised, though they weren't visible, and deep wounds covered his body. Even his blonde hair was matted with dirt and blood.
"Process F!" the Dexmon on his right shrieked.
Tiwaz felt the familiar sensations that came with a high density, emerald beam piarcing through his now-unarmoured right flank and passing out his left. He let out a roar and soared through the air at full speed towards the Dexmon.
The undead thing gave a rivalled roar and prepared a second attack. "Process F!" it bellowed as it released a second surging beam towards the rushing dragon.
Tiwaz flapped his torn wings and flew upwards, over the blast of his wounded foe. The AncientGreymon plowed into the giant Dexmon at full force, slamming it into the ground. He then closed his powerful jaws around the undead digimon's neck, piercing his teeth into its rotting skin. The dragon knew his time was coming to an end and that his life was slipping away. With a pained snarl, Tiwaz ripped the Dexmon's head from its body, and discarded the limb far into the air.
The AncientGreymon arched back with agony as he felt the attack burn into the square of his back. Tiwaz tore himself away and swung around to face the last remaining Dexmon. With a roar he shot towards the digimon as two thick streams of data poured from his body. Tiwaz's whole body suddenly ignited, blazing with suffocating flames.
His large-fire enveloped body shooting through the night sky gave him the appearance of a comet, with his streams of data acting as the tail.
"These are the raging flames of a dragon's heart!" he roared as he propelled himself towards the Dexmon, nearing ever closer. "Behold the final action of the Great Ten! Behold our bravery, our determination, our compassion and our will! And behold. YOUR. END."
"Process F!" the Dexmon roared as its utterly immense attack burst forth as Tiwaz was upon him.
"OMEGA CORONA!" Tiwaz echoed. An umatched inferno ripped from Tiwaz's body in an inescapable wave of burning power. "Rizalia... Fe--
The two attacks collided piercing through each other and exploding at point blank range between the two foes. Both Tiwaz and the Dexmon were obliterated by the blast.
The remaining traces of the AncientGreymon was a now-safe village and a blazing mushroom cloud that lit up the night sky...
Tyr awoke with a start, twitching on the ground and wrenching his head all around him. "Wha..." he groggily sputtered in a slurred voice. Tyr looked above him and saw the stars above.
"Tyr..." Tiwaz said, addressing him in his mind. "...Did my dream cross over to you? ...I didn't mean for that..." he said sheepishly.
"It's okay..." Tyr said, awake now and gazing up into the sky. "...Was that how you died?"
Tiwaz shifted into his AncientGreymon form, swapping control with Tyr. "Why didn't you get the aid of the Royal Knights or something?" Tyr asked from within Tiwaz.
"Because-..." Tiwaz began but let himself trail off. "Because the village would have been destroyed by then!" he angrily snapped. "...And because that's what it means to be a hero."
"What do you mean?"
"Doing what's right... no matter how hopeless it seems. And fighting for those weaker than you, no matter the odds. That's what it means," Tiwaz told him.
Tyr thought about his words carefully, but he couldn't help but think there was another reason why Tiwaz did all that.
"...Let's get a move on, Tyr," Tiwaz said, stretching before continuing their trek. "No sense hanging about."
A TigerVespamon stood in a great hall that donned magnificient archways on either side of him. There were grand, colourful murals of angels and holy figures on the high ceiling of the monastic cathedral as well as on the walls. Rays of light shone through the large oculus of the ceiling, casting light down into the otherwise dark hall.
The form of an Angemon flew down through the oculus, bathed in the rays of light before leaving them and descending towards the great hall where the bug digimon waited patiently. The Angemon, garbed in a prestine white, hooded robe, gently set down in front of the TigerVespamon and gave him a warm smile.
"Barachiel... I suppose you are leaving to help Saint Michael Ha'Yisrael try to quell his suspicions now, am I correct?" the Angemon asked.
The TigerVespamon, who was now known as Barachiel, nodded. "Yes, Hadrael... From what I have heard, the Holy Host had some problems with it."
The angel known as Hadrael Aker nodded. "While you should not doubt that his visions may indeed be true, some say that it is his new title going to his head."
"Do you?" Barachiel asked.
The Angemon shook his head. "It is not our place to judge... but I can only pray that his visions are false, for if they the Demon Lords are rising..." he trailed off.
"If they are, I will do all that I can to prevent it," the TigerVespamon replied in his calmed, celestial voice, similar to that of Hadrael's.
Hadrael smiled and placed his hand on Barachiel's shoulder. "And I can only give you my blessings and prayers of safety and victory."
"They are more than enough," Barachiel reassured, giving him a thankful nod.
"You do realize that your brother will probably be there, right?"
"Yes... I do." To this the Angemon nodded.
"There is one more thing, before you go," the Angemon said to him. Barachiel looked at him curiously. "I would like to give you something." Hadrael motioned to the necklace around Barachiel's neck, mostly all but the pendant hidden by his red scarf. "May I?" he asked.
"Of course, Hadrael," Barachiel said, gently taking the necklace from around his neck and handing it to his mentor with the upmost care.
The Angemon took the necklace in the palm of his hand and inspected it carefully. The pendant of the necklace was an obsidian scarab with an '8' on the back of its shell. "Your father gave this to you, correct?" he asked Barachiel, who nodded. Hadrael gave a small, fond grin. "This pendant represents rebirth and new beginnings," he explained. "Did you know that?"
The TigerVespamon shook his head. "I did not..."
"This must be very special to you... being from such loving parents as the ones you had."
Barachiel nodded. "It is..." he said somewhat solemnly.
"Would you mind if I added to it?" Hadrael asked him.
Barachiel shook his head and looked at him curiously. Hadrael took a pendant from his pocket and slid the string of the necklace through it. Barachiel looked carefully at the metal pendant. It was of a crescent moon with a six-point star within it. In the center of the star was a cross.
"Some of the symbols of the Holy Host to help safeguard you, Barachiel," Hadrael said, smiling as he placed the two pendants around the bug digimon's neck.
"Thank you..." Barachiel replied, shocked and honoured by the gift. "Thank you very much, Hadrael..."
"Be safe, Barachiel... Terrak," he said softly, bringing the TigerVespamon into an embrace.
"Thank you..." Barachiel murmured, returning the warm gesture. "For everything."
The Angemon released him and looked into his eyes. "You always have my prayers with you. May God shine joy and good fortune upon your journey."
The TigerVespamon nodded in thanks and turned around, walking towards the large doors behind him. "Goodbye, Hadrael."
The roars and hollers of a crowd echoed around them. Boos and cheers rang out from the unruly mob as a digimon gurgled in pain. A relatively small, rundown arena was the source. Throngs of digimon were gathered around a large, fenced in enclosure where two digimon fought.
A GrandisKuwagamon retracted his enclosed, Gran Killer-less fist from the stomach of a Darkdramon. The digimon staggered back, nearly falling over. Cheers erupted from many of the digimon, who seemed like they were about to win their bets on Khep, while the digimon who bet on the Darkdramon started swearing and throwing things at the fence.
The Darkdramon lunged forwards once again, driving his fist towards Kheprius. The GrandisKuwagamon leapt backwards and angled himself. He then shoulder rushed to meet his foe's punch. Khep drove the edge of his shoulder armour into the Darkdramon's fist, creating a sickening crack from the digimon's hand.
The digimon reeled back, swearing furiously in pain. Kheprius then grabbed him by the face and started punching the Darkdramon's chest repeatedly with his other hand. He then released him and gave him a solid headbutt.
The Darkdramon swung around, whipping his tail at Khep and striking him in the chest. The bug digimon stumbled back, tuning out the noise of the crowd. The Darkdramon charged once again, hoping to get a hold of Khep's wings. He seemed angry enough to tear them off once he got a hold of them. Kheprius, however, had a similar idea. He leapt to meet the Darkdramon in the air and drove his knee into his opponent's midsection.
Kheprius then moved around the doubled over digimon and grabbed hold of his white wings. He bent them in awkward angle before swinging downwards, causing the Darkdramon to plummet into the ground. The GrandisKuwagamon then flew down and landed heels-first onto the Darkdramon's face, knocking the dramon unconscious.
The crowd erupted in differing emotions, and Khep watched as a fistfight broke out among the mob.
"Kheprius Aeolus wins!" the announcer called out. "He remains undefeated! See tomorrow night if his fortune lasts as a new challenger emerges to fight him for the top position!"
Three digimon unlocked the fence-enclosed area and ran into the arena. Two of them went over the Darkdramon and hauled his unconscious body out. The third digimon, a Devidramon, came over to Khep and threw his arm around his neck, leading him out of the ring.
"I tell ya, Kheppy boy, your winning streak is great for business! Digimon from all over Babylon are coming to either bet on you or watch you fall!"
"Nice to know I have such a loving fanbase," Khep replied with a roll of his eye. "I gotta say though, it's getting kinda boring. All these competitors you're bringin' in can only fight like street thugs. It just makes it too easy. Can't you get me a real challenge?"
"I'll see what I can do, Kheppy," the Devidramon said.
"What about Samael? Set the right price for him and the tricloptic demon'd be here in a second. I never did get to fight him back then."
"Word on the street is Saint Michael came and got him to go with him for whatever reason in a few days. Can't find 'im right now. In fact, some guy came to me during your match looking for you, saying Michael was looking for you too."
Kheprius looked at the Devidramon in surprise. "Me? What the hell could that be about? Is he still here?"
"Yeah, I told 'im to wait in my office," the Devidramon said, leading him to his office down a hall.
Kheprius walked in to see a Parrotmon fidgiting nervously and looking around in pretty much every direction. It was obvious he was nervous about being in the city. "Yo, who are--"
The Parrotmon gave a surprised, reflexive squawk, but soon stopped upon seeing that it was Kheprius. "Oh... uhh... K-Kheprius Aeolus?" he said, fear in his voice.
"That's me. What do you want? What's this about Mike?" he asked.
"Uhh! He... has sent for all the Peacemakers... He wants you to meet him in Anatolia two days."
"Do I get a place to sleep?" Khep asked.
"Then let's go right now! It's better than this dump," he said, leading the messenger bird out.
Pyra stood amongst the other Peacemakers, looking around the council chamber while listening to the Council and Michael talk. She looked around at the faces, many familiar, but several unfamiliar. She noticed that three -well- five of the Peacemakers weren't present. Trowa, along with Tyr and Azur, and thus their ancestral counterparts. Pyra was disappointed that the WereGarurumon wasn't present. The Paildramon wondered if he was delayed or simply chose not to come. While she understood, she hoped that it wasn't the latter.
While she didn't see Tyr, she did see two other Greymons, one she recognized as Tyr and Sigurd's friend, Gunnar. Pyra became close friends with Sigurd since rejoining the army. Sig and she ended up in the same unit as a result of internal reconstruction to adapt to the severe losses they faced. For the time being, the Greymon Alliance forces were dissolved and phased into the Anatolian military, as were the remnants of Avalon's military. It was a temporary measure until each of the forces grew in size enough to become independant. For the most part, the army did clean up work on Avalon.
Gunnar saw that she was looking at him and promptly gave her a wink. Pyra turned away and sighed. "Oh great..."
Meanwhile, mostly everything that Michael said was lost on Kheprius. He was staring, dumbstruck, at his brother who stood among the Peacemakers and, in contrast, was hanging onto every word that Michael was saying. "What is Terrak doing here?!" Kheprius thought to himself.
He was snapped out of his thoughts upon Michael saying, "I need to know now, are you with me?"
"Uhh, sure! Demons! Right..." Kheprius said, acting as if he had been paying attention.
"I'm with you, Michael," Pyra said, stepping forwards.
"I am if she is," Gunnar said, stepping forwards. He then looked to the female WarGreymon beside him. "Same goes for you. ...Though it's not like I have a choice in the matter; if I don't, they'll put me on cafeteria duty for the third time this month!"
"I will do my very best, Archangel Saint Michael Ha'Yisrael," Barachiel said, stepping forwards and bowing slightly.
Kheprius rolled his eye. "Yeah, just as long as I get to fight something strong."
Last edited by Griff4815; 16th October 2010 at 3:57 AM.
Claimed: Grovyle - November 10th, 2013